Damnation, what a carnal picture she presented, clad in nothing but an almost sheer night rail of silk and lace which had been cleverly designed by some enterprisingmodisteto tempt the most stoic of saints among men. Through it, he could see the hard peaks of her breasts, red as her lips, the lush globes begging for his hands. The curves he loved so well.
For a moment, he could not find the words to speak, as overwhelmed as he was by desire. They had been married for just a few months, and his hunger for her only grew with each passing day. Each hour. Each minute.
“I love it,” he growled, “but this was not what I had in mind for the evening when I suggested we leave the ball early.”
“Oh?” She pouted up at him in a way that never failed to make him desperate to have her. “But this is what I was thinking of, especially after what you did for me tonight.”
What he had done for her was see to it that Baron Cunningham, that spineless, vile weasel of a man, apologized to her. Devereaux Winter had granted them full use of a handsome dowry upon their wedding day, and Cam had set aside a portion of it to buy up the rest of the man’s vowels. He had offered complete forgiveness of them in exchange for the baron bowing and scraping to Eugie before some of the most esteemed members of thebeau monde.
“I did not do it to bring you to your knees, my darling,” he told her, the mere thought of Cunningham enough to make his cock go soft. “I did it so you could hold your head high. Higher than all the rest. Higher than those who would have given you the cut direct and scorned you, higher than those who believed the rumors and perpetuated the lies.”
It was not lost upon him that once, he too, had believed the worst of her. Until he had met her. Danced with her. Been charmed by her in a garden. And a library. And a darkened hall.
Until he had come to realize there was something far more precious than being the Prince of Proper, and that was being the man who loved Eugie. Full stop.
“I already held my head high before tonight,” she said softly, and then, she ran the tip of her tongue down the length of his shaft. “I held my head high because I am your wife. Because you made me realize I was stronger than I knew and braver too. You made me realize I could be more than a scandal. More than a darkened reputation.”
He cupped her beloved face. “You are the strongest, bravest woman I know. The way you faced them all tonight was nothing short of marvelous.”
“I was ready for them.” She smiled slyly, giving his prick a slow and steady stroke with her hand. “I had you at my side, and I knew none of them were any match for us.”
Tonight’s ball had been the official beginning of the Season. And it had marked the arrival of the Countess of Hertford in society. She was no longer a merchant’s daughter, whispered about and scorned, excluded from the most fashionable society invitations. Now, she was sought after. He had seen the way everyone had watched her this evening. Everything from her gown to her hairstyle would be copied.
He had no doubt she would be the talk of Town, but for an entirely different reason than she had previously been. And he could not be more proud of her, nor happier for her than he had been the moment she had stared down the baron and given him the cut following his apology.
“You are the Princess of Proper now,” he told her, enjoying the disparity between the impeccable countess she had been at the ball this evening, above reproach, and the way she looked now, tousled and flushed on the floor before him.
He found it thrilling, actually. And he wanted more.Bloody hell, he would take her to a dozen balls and force Cunningham into a hundred more apologies if this was the response it garnered him.
“I am afraid the Princess of Proper is about to get very, very improper. You do not mind, do you?” Her tongue found the slit at the tip of his cock, licking over it. “Mmm. I like the way you taste, husband.”
Just like that, he was hard again. Ready.Dear God, this woman was meant to be his, and there was no question of that. He half-suspected she had to but lick him one more time, and he would spend.
He bit down on his lip to rein in his enthusiasm. “The baron did not get what he deserved. Not by half.”
If Cam had been the sole deciding factor in the matter, Cunningham would have been horsewhipped. How badly he had wanted to answer for the pain she had been dealt with force, with his fists, by any means necessary. But Eugie had been the voice of reason. She had forbade violence. And so, he had settled upon the apology and the baron’s public humiliation instead.
“But I got what I deserve,” she whispered, her expression turning positively wicked. “And that is what matters the most.”
She took him into her mouth once more, sucking and sighing and bringing him to the back of her throat. Then down it. White-hot pleasure seared him, and he had to grab the post of his bed to keep from stumbling beneath the force.
Words were streaming from his mouth, but he did not know what they were. They could have been epithets or declarations of love. His ballocks tightened, and he was going to spend in her pretty mouth, and she was going to swallow his seed.
But that was not how he wanted to end this evening.
Mustering his control, he grasped her hair and tugged until she released him with a wet, lusty pop. Her eyes were glazed, her lips slack, her chest heaving, as she looked up at him. “What is it, Cam?”
“Not this way,” he managed to say, before taking her in a gentle grasp and hauling her to her feet before taking her in his arms.
Who would have thought that attending a country house party one Christmas would change his life forever? He most certainly had not. But he was grateful for the chance he had taken. Grateful for the woman in his arms.
And he was about to show her just how much.
How much didshe love this man?
Eugie could not say. The way she felt for him eclipsed every other emotion she had ever known. She had wanted to show him with actions tonight in a way words could not convey, to worship him. To show him how beautiful he was to her: his body, his pleasure, his ceaseless championing of her. Just everything.
Every little thing about him.
