“I want what you can give me,” she said.
He began moving them as one, backing her toward the door of the chamber, which was still ajar. Anyone could have come upon them. It didn’t matter. All that did matter was that she seemed to have won this little battle. He was holding her in his arms. He was here with her.
Theo pulled the door closed and latched it. And then she was trapped solidly between his big body and the paneled mahogany, and there was no place she would rather be. He hadn’t told her his secrets, but that no longer signified either.
She could be patient. She would wait. He wasn’t trying to push her away any longer. Now, he was holding her close. His cock pressed into her, and she rediscovered the boldness that had made her bare her heart to him and banish her pride.
She reached between them to graze the fall of his trousers. He groaned, hips chasing her touch. She molded her fingers around that pulsing ridge, stroking his thickness until an answering ache began to swell like a rising tide. Here was all the evidence she required of what he felt for her—the same deep and abiding yearning. If the rest of him was stubborn, his body, at least, was not.
“Pamela,” he ground out her name in warning.
She found a button on his falls, plucking it free. “I want you inside me.”
How freeing it felt, that confession, taking command of her body’s needs. Taking command of herself after so many years of denial.
“Then take what you want.”
He kissed her deeply, his tongue tracing the seam of her lips. More buttons slid open, and then she was freeing him, his cockstand springing hot and urgent into her waiting palm. She grasped him, stroking slowly.
Did he intend to take her against the door? His lips left hers and he raised his head, watching her with burning, raw hunger, his gaze darkening as it fell between them, to where her hand stroked his cock. She looked down too, mesmerized by the sight, the feeling of him. How beautiful he was by daylight, big and hard, his skin smooth and ruddy and stretched taut. The slit in his crown leaked a pearly drop, and she used her thumb to swirl it over his cock head as she had last night. Her cunny pulsed in an echo of readiness. She was hollow and aching and only he could fill her. Only he could give her what she needed.
But how? Her marriage bed had not been particularly inventive, though it had brought her pleasure. Was it even possible for a man and woman to make love whilst standing up thus, aligned against a door?
“Can we?” she murmured, licking her lips, recalling how it had felt to take him in her mouth, to breathe in the musky scent of him, to feel the controlled thrust of him sliding over her lips and tongue. “Standing?”
He caught a fistful of her gown and petticoats in answer, dragging it to her waist. “Hold your hems.”
She did as he asked, clutching the fabric with her free hand, cool air kissing her stockinged legs as she bared herself from the waist down for him. Theo’s fingers dipped unerringly, finding the center of her need, working over her swollen bud. She was almost unbearably ready for him, their lovemaking the night before and impassioned kisses leaving her body flushed and impatient. So desperately aching for more.
He painted her dew over her folds, then glided his fingers lower, finding her entrance and slipping inside. “Hook your leg around me.”
She did as he asked, the shifting in positions opening her to him more fully. He slid inside her, stroking deep, his fingers filling her in rhythmic pulses that had her breaths coming in uneven gasps and her body arching into his. Her world shrank to nothing more than the two of them, to the connection of their bodies, the pumping of his fingers. To the sound of her own readiness, lurid and loud in the chamber, filling her with more wetness and heightening her need to a pulsing, raging crescendo.
When his fingers curled, pressuring so deliciously the sublime, secret place inside her, everything burst. A cry tore from her lips, and he swallowed it with his mouth, kissing her as her body simultaneously tightened and flew apart. He kissed her hard and fast, so deeply that her head knocked against the door. But she didn’t care, because in the next instant, the firmness of his cock was at her entrance.
In one thrust, he filled her. Filled her so completely and fully. She was pinned to the door by his body and his cock, the hand holding her hems up trapped between them, the other landing on his shoulder for purchase as she raised to her tiptoes and met him thrust for thrust as he began to move. They made love furiously, bodies pounding together, straining, seeking. She wasn’t sure which of them was more desperate for the other.
He moved inside her with glorious precision, finding the same place his fingers had so masterfully stimulated, each pump of his hips angling against her pearl with delicious friction. Faster and faster, the door thumping behind them with each stroke. But she was too far gone to care if anyone passed in the hall and wondered at the noises emerging from the empty guest chamber. Too far gone for anyone who wasn’t him.
Theo broke the kiss and buried his face in her throat, his mouth moving over her skin as if he were ravenous for her. As if he could not have enough of her. She was in an agony of ecstasy, desperate to find release again, twining her body around his, using the floor and her position against the door to move in time to his body’s frantic thrusts. Deeper, higher, harder. It was pain and pleasure united, every stroke through her wetness undoing her more than the last. Until she came undone a second time, her cunny clamping on his cock in a series of spasms that had her body bowing from the door.
She lowered her face to his shoulder as her climax twisted through her, her teeth finding the solidness of his shoulder and sinking in without regard for whether or not she would leave a mark. He moved into her in frantic, quick bursts, and then his body stiffened against her, and he was frantically withdrawing, gripping his cock as his seed spurted all over her inner thigh in hot bursts.
He collapsed against her, a beloved, solid weight, their hearts pounding in unison, both of them breathless and spent. She held him tightly, until the sound of bustling in the hall beyond had them breaking guiltily apart. Hastily, he withdrew a handkerchief and tended to them both, his countenance an impenetrable mask as he met her gaze.
“I must go,” he murmured, his voice hushed so that it wouldn’t carry. “I’ve a duty to attend.”
“But you will come to me tonight?” she pressed. “Later. I’ve a ball to attend this evening, and I won’t be back until well after midnight.”
How she wished it were a ball at which he would be in attendance, and that they could whirl together in a waltz. But that was a foolish desire, and she knew it.
“Later,” he agreed, unsmiling as he gently pulled her away from the door and then left her without a backward glance.
CHAPTER13
Alone in the cavernous Hunt House drawing room, Pamela was attempting to distract herself from thoughts of Theo and failing abysmally. Because when she had finally set her porte-crayon to paper to sketch following their unexpected interlude in the guest chamber, only one face had emerged.
His.
