The first touch on her nipple sent her thighs squeezing against Anthony’s ears. She heard and felt his chuckle against her wet skin, her hand coming to the top of the chair to help press her cunny to that clever mouth of his.
“Make me suck it,” he growled in a way that made every nerve glow like electric streetlights. “Can’t wait to get inside you.”
At the thought of being fucked by Anthony again, Letitia cried out and began the slide into unimaginable pleasure. She moved her hand from her breast to the back of Anthony’s head so she could guide his tongue.
The sight of her lover’s face betwixt her thighs, enthusiastic as he’d been all those years ago, sent her spiraling. She grasped his hair, lifted her hips, and shot into the heavens with bliss.
***
It was when Letitia retrieved the pristine diletto from Anthony’s wardrobe that she saw something she shouldn’t have. Those items had probably been beside each other for ages, but the first time, she’d been in such a flutter that she’d likely missed it.
She came back to the bed, and her face must have given away the state of her mind.
“Whatever is the matter?” he asked, pulling her into his lap.
“You’d tell me if you were courting a girl, wouldn’t you?” she asked.
“Courting…a girl?”
“Yes, you know. Squiring a girl about with a mind to marriage. Dancing with her at balls and the like.”
Anthony squeezed her waist. “Is that what you’d like me to do?”
Her stomach dropped. Did she want him to take a girl out with a mind to marriage? Was he mad?
“I can see on your face that you’re getting the wrong idea,” he said sternly, turning her chin towards him when she tried to look away. “Is courting what you want me to dowith you, Letty?”
Again, he’d cast her adrift. What did he mean? A man didn’t need to court his own mistress. That was rather the point of the whole thing.
“Did you see it?” he asked softly.
“See what?” she asked, feeling her nose grow somewhat itchy. He would not make her ask about that thing, would he?
“The thing next to the diletto.”
“Ahh, that,” she said. “Well, yes. Otherwise, I’d not have thought to ask about whether you’re courting a girl.”
Anthony settled onto the pillows, looking suddenly satisfied. He held out his arms to her. “Come to me, Letty.”
“I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you, not descend into debauchery again!” she exclaimed.
He popped up and brushed her fringe aside before planting a kiss on her forehead. “You’d let some other girl marry me? After all of this?”
“Let some other girl…? Listen to me, Anthony Paschal-Lamb, there will be no other girls! I asked in case you needed to bedisabused of the notion! I won’t have it! I simply won’t!” She was confused and furious. How could he mention, even teasingly, other women while in bed with her?
“Oh, Letty, you sound like a viscountess when you say such things,” he said, his smile broad and teasing. “I suppose you’ll just have to marry me.”
This impossible man! He made jokes about the dearest, most forbidden wish of her heart? She’d make him regret it!
But first she’d cry her eyes out in his dressing room.
***
It was after she’d cried for what seemed like hours that Letitia realized Anthony hadn’t yelled or pounded at the door as one might expect a man to do when denied the thing he supposedly wanted most. She worried he’d woken up to the fact that she was a ruined woman and not worth his time. Was he even now ordering her things packed?
Those thoughts should never have entered her mind, not after their tender reunion, but the past few years had made her wary as a dog with a cruel master. She wished to trust this man she loved so much — had always loved — but she’d only recently emerged from hell.
When she cracked open the door to the dressing room, there was Anthony, sitting on the floor quietly.
