He strolled away from the house and glanced back once to notice that the lights had been extinguished in the front parlor. He really wished to hurry, rush around the block until he found the mews, cross through them, across the alley, across the back lawn and into the back door, but kept his pace casual.
Chapter 22
Octavia turned down the lights and glanced into the other rooms on the ground floor to note that no one was about, and all was silent. The servants had retired or were at least in their separate rooms. She then made her way to the back door off the kitchen and waited for Angelo to arrive.
It would not be pleasant or easy helping him find a wife, but a necessity. She could not stand for him or his future bride to have an empty or even unpleasant marriage. There were too many of those already and Angelo deserved more than that. Though her heart ached that he could not be hers, and she suspected that jealousy would become a familiar friend, Octavia needed to put those emotions aside.
Maybe one day she would find someone else with whom she could share a passion, who did not need an heir, though she did not anticipate such happening. For now, her independence was too important, but she also didn’t wish to grow old alone. So, maybe by the time she was fifty, long past the age of infatuation, passion, and love, she might find someone to share the remaining years of her life in pleasant companionship.
When she heard the scrape of a boot on the back stoop, Octavia cracked the door to make certain it was Angelo, then opened it wider for him to step inside.
She thought that he’d follow her upstairs, but instead, he took her in his arms and pressed her against the wall as his lips descended on hers.
Goodness, he stole her breath and Octavia’s blood heated. He nearly devoured her mouth as his hands roamed from her back to her hips, cupping her bottom and bringing her against his rigid manhood. Heat pooled and she wanted nothing more than to strip her gown, or just raise her skirt so that they could be joined.
Angelo trailed hot kisses across her cheek and down her neck and began to lift her skirt while the other hand caressed her breast.
All she could do was grasp his shoulders and hold on as she tilted her head back to grant him better access.
He made quick work of the buttons on her bodice before he slipped his hand inside. At the same time, his fingers skimmed up her thigh and then touched the place that ached the most. She was already on fire, ready, and when he stroked, her legs grew weak.
Was she really going to experience a release standing just inside the back door to her house? Did she care if she did?
Octavia stiffened her legs so that they did not give out and held on tighter. Angelo bent and licked across her exposed bosom, and just as she was about to explode, he straightened and withdrew his hand and let her skirts drop.
Octavia opened her eyes, just realizing that they’d been closed and met his dark heated ones and the self-satisfied quirk of his lips.
“Shall we adjourn upstairs?”
She wanted to slap him for leaving her in such a state. Instead, she flounced away and mounted the stairs, confident that he would follow.
Octavia was one of the most responsive women whom he had ever encountered. He could have taken her against the wall, and she would not have objected. Had he lingered and stroked a few more times, she would have shattered. Instead, he took her to the very edge and stopped, leaving her achy with need, likely matching his.
As soon as they entered the chamber, he closed the door, then sat to kick off his boots. Those were always the first to go so that they did not hinder his quest to join with her.
Octavia stood in the center of the room. Her hair was already mussed as if they’d tumbled, and her breasts were nearly spilling out of her gown because he’d loosened the buttons. She watched him, and he watched her, and he could tell that she wasn’t certain what to do, which he found adorable. She wasn’t a practiced mistress who would have stripped before him to entice him into bed. Not that Octavia needed to gain his interest. It was fully aroused and uncomfortable.
Standing, he shrugged out of his suitcoat, the waistcoat, and unfastened the placket on his trousers.
Her breaths grew shallow as her grey eyes darkened.
Angelo paused before her and pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside. He had but one article of clothing to remove and she remained fully clothed, but not for long.
As her gown was already open, he slid the sleeves down her arms until her breasts were exposed and he wasn’t surprised that her nipples were already erect. Bending, he took one tip in his mouth as he slid the gown and shift from her body.
Once free of her gown, Octavia arched to give him better access and he shrugged out of his trousers. They were both naked and he straightened and then took her lips and deepened his kiss as he brought her body against his. She lifted her arms and clung to his shoulders, angling her head to give him better access and mimicked him. Trailing his hands down her sides and then to her stomach, her muscles contracting beneath his fingertips, he didn’t stop until he reached her womanhood, already damp. Angelo nearly groaned.
He should take his time and slowly build but he already ached to be deep inside. He circled and stroked and soon Octavia’s legs were quaking. When her legs stiffened and she arched her back, exposing her neck, he kissed as she reached her release. Angelo barely acknowledged her fingernails digging into his shoulders, and he didn’t care.
As her waves of passion receded, Octavia’s legs nearly gave out and that was when he lifted her. Grasping the perfect globes of her buttocks he brought her up and then entered in one swift action. Her walls closed around him, and she shuddered once again as she locked her legs at his hips.
He thought to put her against the wall, but it was too far away and instead, fell onto the bed. This was not a slow, gentle loving, but fierce and all consuming. As her cries of release once again echoed in his ears, he let go, his own climax coming on so strongly that his toes curled. Heart racing and barely able to catch his breath, Angelo collapsed beside Octavia and pulled her into his arms.
This was not well done of him. He thought to go slow and savor every moment but had been unable to do so. Memories of the night before had stayed with him all day and he’d been ready for this moment before he had ever arrived at her house. The fact that their conversation had been serious kept everything in check and prevented him from becoming too uncomfortable. But once she indicated that she wished to retire, his body had tightened with anticipation, and he was ready to be with her by the time he entered the back door.
“I am sorry,” he finally said.
“For what?”
