“We’ve never had a physically loving relationship,” she said with a scowl. And then furrowing her brows, she asked, “What do you mean? Are you referring to… nothing?”
The sensual spark in her eyes got the better of him.
Ah, was he to be ruled by his cock again tonight? He had entered her bedchamber with the best of intentions. But he watched as her breathing quickened. His own heart raced. The mood had changed from one of tenderness to one of physical need.
“I can make love to you without penetration. I can take a great deal of satisfaction without it.”
“Oh, you can, can you?” She dared him. A wicked look crept into her eyes. One that held a world of promise.
He brought his hand around and cupped the tender weight of one of her breasts, the tip already tightened. He languidly allowed his thumb and fingers to pull and pinch it. Her arousal affected him greatly, but he would not satisfy his own.
She arched her back and pressed into him.
“I most certainly can,” he said huskily.
She wrapped one leg around him, her nightgown already hitched up to her waist, and pressed her soft folds against him. He groaned softly as he felt her wetness and warmth all along his arousal.
Knowing that he wouldn’t last another ten seconds if he allowed her to set the rules, he slid his body downward and took the tip of her breast in his mouth. He grasped both of her wrists tightly and held them against the bed. She wiggled and let out a soft whine.
“But I wantyou!” she said in a pouty voice. He loved her pouty voice.
He softly nipped his teeth at her and then trailed his mouth down her abdomen. Still holding her hands, he dipped his tongue into her navel and then set to traveling down even farther. She arched her hips upward, reaching for his mouth.
He released her wrists, then grasping her by the waist, held her immobile. The scent of her womanhood, of her sex, was heady and exciting by itself. He was going to enjoy the taste of her even more.
He took hold of her buttocks and then plunged his mouth lower.
Her soft folds were wet and slick. He rubbed his unshaven chin down the length of her, and she cried out. “Oh, God.” He did it again. “Oh, God.” She panted.
He loved this.
Her hands were in his hair, urging him deeper. He took one finger and slipped it inside of her.
That was all it took. Her hips jerked upward, and she began throbbing around him. He’d be lucky if she left him with any hair.
But he wasn’t finished.
By the time he was done with her, she conceded that a man could most thoroughly satisfy a woman without actual penetration. Several times in fact.
When she’d finally fallen back asleep, Stephen kissed her one last time and then quietly made his way back to his own chamber. Rather than attempting to sleep, he summoned Hamilton and the two of them left before dawn.
He hadn’t evenleft a note.
It had been two weeks since Stephen had departed. Since then, Flavion had regained enough strength to order the servants to pack up in preparation for their removal to Surrey. Cecily felt twenty years older than she had just a few months ago.
When she arrived in London with her father this past March, she’d been naively fanciful as to what her second season amongst thetonmight be like.
Although her first Season was something of a failure, she hadn’t given up. In fact, having not taken, she’d immersed herself in her etiquette, dancing, and comportment lessons. And when Flavion took notice of her, she had felt that her hard work had been worth it.
All within a matter of three months, she’d become infatuated, married, been betrayed, fallen in love for real, and then been forced to come to terms with the hopelessness of loving her husband’s cousin.
And now, much wiser, she would retreat to the country with the broken man who was to be her husband after all. She felt foolish for all of the plans and mischief she and her friends had schemed up together in hopes of shedding Flavion. All the cunning in the world was no match for the law of the church, for the law of the land. She choked back a sob as she stepped into the teahouse where she’d arranged to meet with Emily, Rhoda, and Sophia. She was going to tell them she had reconciled with Flavion — that she and Flavion were going to do what they could to make something of their marriage after all.
She felt guilty troubling them with all of the drama in her life this past Season. It had all been abouther;hersuitor,herwedding,hersorrow… She forced a bright smile as her eyes alighted on the three other ladies, her dearest friends — her sisters of the heart.
Before she could sit down, Sophia displayed her left hand enthusiastically. On the third finger was a delicate band decorated with artfully arranged sapphires and diamonds. “This morning!” Sophia squealed. “He spoke with my step-father first and then formally proposed to me.”
Cecily was close to tears but pushed them back. She was so very happy for her friend. “Lord Harold, I presume?” she asked teasingly as she sat down and placed her reticule upon the table. An empty cup sat in front of her. Emily reached over and poured some hot tea into it. “Was it ever so romantic?”
