“Well, now,” James murmured. “What have I done to deserve this?”
The carriage had barely started moving when Evie knelt gracefully between his legs. His blood rushed in his veins as his lovely lady scientist unfastened his trousers with the same care she used when gathering her specimens. In the lamplight, her hair was spun gold, and her eyes were mysterious amber pools. When she freed the last button from its hole, his cock sprang free, hard and ready.
“This is for being you,” she said. “I adore the man you are.”
He didn’t know what aroused him more: her passionate avowal or the way she gripped him with her gloved hands. The sight of her delicate fingers, encased in pearl-grey kid, frigging his rampant pole was an inexpressible delight. She used his own arousal to lubricate her decadent pumping, her expertise bringing forth more liquid desire.
“Shouldn’t our positions be reversed?” He toyed with a tendril at her temple. “We are celebrating your accomplishments, after all.”
“You may have your turn. After I have mine.”
Her feminine hunger beguiled him. She eyed his cock as if it were her favorite treat, and when she darted out her tongue, rimming his tip, he grunted with pleasure. His wife had become an expert at tormenting him with her mouth. She took her time, her teasing flicks and voluptuous suction making him grip the edge of the seat. When he judged she’d had her fun, he threaded his fingers in her coiffure. Pins pinged to the carriage floor as he guided her head.
“Deeper,” he instructed.
Her hum of assent sent a delicious vibration down his turgid shaft. She dove down with a cheerful enthusiasm that caused his hips to buck. Knowing that she enjoyed this as much as he did—well, perhaps not quite as much—was a potent aphrodisiac. As carnal heat blazed through him, he had a flash of insight: he and Evie had earned this. Their physical intimacy was rooted in the trust they’d built. Love made it safe to express their deepest desires, to be who they were, without fear of judgment. With her, he didn’t have to be the perfect gentleman or heir…it was enough to be himself.
The recognition stripped away the layers of civility, baring his primal self. Dark impulses pounded in his blood. He unleashed the desires that could only be sated by his mate.
“Take more of my cock.” He fisted the silken ribbons of her hair. “I know you can do better.”
He knew Evie enjoyed a challenge, and her moan of excitement proved him right. That sound, muffled by his meaty rod, churned his lust, and he pushed her head toward his lap. The lush glide of her tongue set fire to his blood. She bobbed on him, hollowing her cheeks with such alacrity that he spurted a little. When the carriage hit a bump, he felt the ripple of her throat and groaned in bliss.
She sputtered but continued her ministrations, taking him to the precipice.
“Do you want it, darling?” he grated out. “Do you want me to spill down your throat?”
Her eyes, huge and watery with effort, gave him the answer.
“Then take it, sweet wife. Take it all.”
His fingers digging into her scalp, he let himself go. Bliss seared him as he erupted with a shout. His stones pulsed, releasing their hot load into his wife’s loving kiss. She accepted his offering and tidied him with gentle licks. Panting, he drew her into his lap, kissing her thoroughly. Like before, she squirmed at sharing the earthy flavor.
“I like it,” he growled against her lips. “I like tasting what you give to me. I like that you are as gifted at giving a lecture to a learned society as you are at sucking my cock in a moving carriage.”
“James.” She wriggled again, her eyes filled with helpless need.
Understanding, he smiled. “Your turn, sweetheart.”
Lifting her off his lap, he bent her over the opposite bench. As she balanced her arms on the velvet squabs, he went to one knee, grabbing a fistful of her skirts. The rustling layers resisted his command, but he was resolute and achieved his goal. With her skirts spilling over his head, he widened the slit in her drawers, exposing her swollen crease. Her fragrant arousal made him heady. He drew his tongue slowly, lazily over her plump folds.
“Ripe as a peach,” he murmured. “How I shall enjoy eating you.”
She made an incoherent sound and pushed her pussy against him. As carriages clattered past and hawkers shouted their wares, he feasted on his countess with leisurely delight. He sheathed his tongue in her cunny, grunting when her muscles clenched around him. Rubbing her nubbin, he ate her thoroughly, uncaring if he gorged himself. Eventually, his desires took him higher—to her naughty rim. She gasped when he tongued her there, slowly and deliberately. Between them, they’d discovered that no pleasure was forbidden, and he took his time playing with her lovely hole. When she came, her cry was as sweet as her gushing honey.
He rose, shoving her skirts out of the way and notching his ready member to her slit. He drove inside, panting at the snug fit.
“Please, James.”
Evie twisted her head to look at him. Her mouth was slack with desire, her gaze glassy with need. She was as far gone and desperate as he was.
“Love me,” she pleaded. “Don’t stop.”
“Never. I’ll never stop.”
He slammed his hips, giving her his all. When the carriage bounced, he grabbed the strap for balance, continuing to plow her with determined force. Her mewls of pleasure and the soaked velvet of her pussy became his world. Her bunched skirts obscured his view of their joining, but he felt everything.
With her, he always had.
