Her fingers sank into his hair as she arched into him. Ohdear sweet heavens. She couldn’t tear her gaze from the delicious sight of hissultry mouth on her breast. He glanced up at her, his glittering emerald eyesmelting her as his tongue flicked out to tease her sensitive skin. She lovedhim when he was at his most sinful, torturing her with pleasure until shefeared she’d splinter into a million shards of blissful woman. He sucked again,creating a tug of heady desire in her sex. She was already wet, ready for him.
“I want you to take me,” she said, needing him more than sheever had. She wanted him to make her his in the most elemental sense, make herforget the awful reemergence of Lady Billingsley in their lives.
“Naughty darling,” he said, grinning against the pale curveof her breast. He raked his teeth over her nipple, then blew upon it. “How muchdo you want me?”
Oh he was a devil, her husband. But a devil she wasincreasingly fearing that she loved. Dear God. It hit her then, with the blastof a pail of cold water over her head. Somehow, he was winning her heart. Shefroze, looking down at him, unable to recall what he’d asked her.
“Have I rendered you incapable of speech once more, love?”He winked at her, a knowing smile on his mouth.
He had called her love. She was sure he didn’t mean it inthe way she wanted him to mean it. Heavens, she hoped her feelings weren’tpainted all over her foolish face. Surely there could have been a better timefor her to realize her feelings for him. Of course, it would have beenpreferable for her to have not developed feelings at all. How she wished shewas as wise and flippant as Lady Needham, who could flirt and throw wildparties as if she were doing nothing more natural than sneezing. But she was,in her heart, plain old Margaret. And she was losing her heart to a cad.
But was he a cad? She didn’t want to think it.
She framed his face, running her fingers over the delightfulabrasion of his whiskers. “Take me now,” she urged him lest she embarrassherself by confessing her love to him. “I need you, Simon.”
He stood, towering over her once more, and pulled her to asettee in the middle of the room. “Christ, what you do to me, woman.” He placedher hands on the gilt back and positioned himself behind her. “I have to beinside you.”
“Yes.” She needed him to make love to her so badly that shedidn’t bother to wonder how they would accomplish the coupling while standing.It didn’t matter.
He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the side of her neck andraised the back of her skirts, draping them over her arm. His nimble fingersuntied her bustle pad and unhooked her drawers. They dropped to the floor withher petticoats and a whisper of sound. He continued kissing her neck,passionate caresses that made her knees threaten to give way. Cool air kissedher bare bottom, replaced in a moment by his knowing touch.
“Are you ready for me?” he asked, his fingers dipping intoher sex from behind, toying with her before sliding inside.
She moaned, bucking into him for more. “Yes,” she scarcelymanaged to say. She turned, capturing his mouth with hers. The kiss wasplundering, devastating. Their tongues tangled. Suddenly, he replaced hisfingers with his cock.
His hands went to her waist, holding her at the angle heneeded as he plunged inside her again and again. A new wave of desire hit her,making her weak. She gripped the settee so hard her knuckles turned white asshe struggled not to crumple into a puddle of lust at his feet. Dear heavens,what he did to her.
He pumped into her deeply, increasing his pace, and she cameundone, reaching her pinnacle and crying out. She couldn’t keep herself fromhalf slumping over as the extreme sensation washed over her. He held her still,just where he wanted her, thrusting with a frantic need that soon had himfilling her with his seed. She came again as he found his release, reveling inthe completion of their joining, the incredible feeling of him losing himselfin her.
He collapsed against her, his breathing ragged, their bodiesstill joined. She could feel his heart’s frantic pace against her back. In thesilence of their passion’s aftermath, she silently prayed that she’d beenwrong. That wanting would be enough to keep him by her side. She couldn’t bearto lose him.
* * * * *
He woke from his dreams that night to a hand running downhis chest, straight to his cock. Fingers curled expertly around his shaft,working him up and down. He moaned and arched into the capable touch, thinkingthat Maggie had tiptoed into his chamber through the darkness. He was hard andready.
“Maggie,” he muttered, “you want me again, do you?”
His hands went into her hair, but the texture was different,all smooth silk rather than soft curls. And then there was the scent. Lavender.The breasts pressed against his chest were all wrong. Too small. Her hips werenarrow as well, her mouth on his neck all too familiar yet still somehowforeign.
“Eleanor,” he said, startled by the realization. He pushedlightly at her shoulders as wakefulness returned to him. “What the hell are youdoing in my chamber?”
“I’ve missed you, Sandy,” she purred, writhing against him.
Once, the mere press of her naked body against his wouldhave incited him to madness. But now there was something that kept him fromrolling her onto her back and fucking her as he had so many times before. Heknew, after all, that she would be wet and willing as ever. They had been aperfect fit, the two of them. Lovemaking had been easy, passionate, remarkable.
He thought again of Maggie and removed Eleanor’s teasinghand from his cock. “We cannot. Maggie is in the chamber next door.”
“I shall be very quiet,” Eleanor promised, her lips verynear to his.
No. He could not. He flipped her to her back and rolled awayfrom her, pulling the bedclothes round himself as a shield. “You must return toyour bed at once. I will not disrespect Maggie while she sleeps so near.”
The truth was that he was very confounded, as much by herpresence in his chamber as by her presence in his household. Hadn’t he beenhappy with Maggie? She had pleased him, certainly. Her willingness to learn andbring him pleasure in the bed chamber had been unparalleled. They had forged abond in the last month, albeit not one as long or as strong as the one he hadforged with Eleanor over the years. But it was different. He had come torespect his wife, much as it galled him to admit it. Yes, Maggie was anincomparable, from her poetry to her flaming curls to her willingness to openherself to him. She was special.
But was Maggie the woman he loved?
“Disrespecther?” Eleanor’s words were all but anincredulous growl. “What of me? Who is she to you, other than the funds you sodesperately needed?”
He felt a great wash of shame then, and it made his cockwither more assuredly than a pail of cold water. She was only repeating wordshe had oft said to her. He recalled them now, a shower of shame pouring overhis head.The woman I’ve wed means nothing to me. She was a necessary sin. Ilove you, Eleanor. Only you.
