“Thank you, my good man.” I entered the lush interior upholstered with maroon silk over horsehair stuffed bench seats. Colt sat with his arm on the window sill. Lillian had removed her hat, her pretty mouth slackened in slumber.
“I see her lack of sleep has caught up with her.” I took the seat next to her, looped my arm around her shoulder, and drew her to my side. She curled into me, the fragrance of lilies teasing my nose with the soft floral scent.
“She worked hard, and I think it will pay off.” He tapped his thumb against his trouser leg, staring out the window. The carriage dipped from the weight of the driver before it righted.
“You and she collaborated well.” I inspected his profile with his straight nose and trimmed sideburns. Per usual, not a hair was out of place. There was a spot beneath his ear that I had sucked on, leaving my mark on his skin. Sensations flickered in my groin at the mere memory. We had an hour’s drive to our destination ... I quashed the notion. It was broad daylight where anyone could see us. Unless I closed the drapes. “You were our inspiration. I must admit, it was some inspiration.” He flashed a sensual smile, his eyes sparkling with overt desire.
I offered him a slow wink, grinning back. “I have that effect on people.”
“I shouldn’t admit it, but yes, you do.” He shifted his booted foot, long legs stretched out. The twill trousers hugged his thighs. “Your wife is also talented. Her new material is outstanding.”
It was still odd to see him look at me in such a compelling manner. I grinned back, eager to explore more intimacies with him. “I have read the new material she wrote, but not the old. Was it unfortunate?” I glanced down at my bride, not wishing toinsult her in case she was awake. “She did mention being passed up by twenty-nine publishers.”
“Not being a publisher myself, I can’t say for certain. I liked the premise of her book, but it lacked the same maturity it has now.” He shrugged his shoulders and plucked at a stray piece of lint from his knee. “Like all forms of art, it’s all subjective.”
“My earlier works were laughable. I have since honed my craft.” I was itching to get my fingers in clay once more. Alton Castle had a great kiln in the west garden, and I had converted one of the greenhouses into my studio. “I have an idea for a new collection of urns inspired by nature. I’m especially interested in the exotic wildlife.” I rubbed my thumb along the silky skin of Lillian’s bared wrist. Sooty eyelashes created black crescents on her pale cheeks. A smattering of freckles dotted the bridge of her nose. “My wife is one of the most alluring of them all.”
He lowered his hand and cast me a roguish grin. “I can guarantee she’ll not be flattered by the comparison to an animal, no matter how adorable.”
I leaned my head against hers, my hand dangling over her shoulder. The movement of the carriage had settled into a steady rhythm as it hit the toll road. “The first time I saw her, I thought of the gazelle; all long limbs, with eyes that cut into your soul.”
His amusement dimmed, and he shook his head. “Pray tell me you never told her such claptrap?”
“It isn’t claptrap, and no, I have not said a single word to her. You know how sensitive she is. I would never hurt her intentionally.” I cared for Lillian and would rather hurt myself than harm her. My views of the world were often at odds with the norms, and I straddled a fine line in my bid for freedom.
“I know. It is what I like about you. Well, that and a few other things.” He stared pointedly at my crotch. I had to spread my legs to brace myself and keep Lillian upright. My cock stirred at his lustful inspection.
“You have buggered me, and I have yet to bugger you.” I cast him a questioning stare, pleased by his growing color. His cock in my arse had been divine. Not since Gavin had I been fucked with such thoroughness. The actor had turned out to be a nightmare, but he did possess some excellent skills in the boudoir. Gavin was in the past. I had moved on with Colt and Lillian and would never look back.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Sir Colt Lawrence
The Scottish countryside passed in a blur, all green hedges and bucolic fields. Inside the carriage, a sense of expectation hung in the air. Lady Lillian’s hand fell to Lord Kendrick’s lap, the white glove in contrast to the deep brown of his trousers. His finger played over her wrist bone with gentle strokes.
I envied her. She was his wife, and not a single soul would comment on their intimacy. As another man, I wouldn’t have the luxury of touching him like that in public. I curled my fingers into a fist at the unfairness of it all. When we were alone, I had no such restrictions. “Lord Golden is at your mercy until the end of the month,” I said.
My gaze locking with his, I leaned back in the seat and spread my legs wider, my foot touching the inside of his booted one.
He snapped his head up and blinked at me. “That is—”
“Twenty-nine days. Your entire trip.” I’d been giving it some thought, and I couldn’t bring myself to leave. Not yet. The shipping business had waited six months. It could wait longer while I lived out my fantasy. Reality would come crashing down soon enough.
His entire demeanor transformed, eagerness now in his gaze. “Excellent, most excellent. By my calculations, that equates toabout fifty cock-suckings, give or take a few. Thirty fuckings at a minimum.”
