As the tip of his cock slipped inside her wet heat, his eyes rolled back in his head. He grasped her hips and thrust inside her until he was fully enveloped. She lifted an arm and gripped one of the shelves above her and with the other she dug her fingers into his shoulder as he began to thrust into her with relentless pursuit.
When she started to tremble around his cock, her breathing erratic and the pulsebeat at her neck fluttering, he knew she was nearing her second release of the night. He bent down and licked a path from that slight beat and up, along the side of her neck to her earlobe where he gently bit the delicate lobe. She cried out incoherently as she exploded around him. Brandt answered by using everything he had to ensure she was fully sated, and then he spilled himself deep inside of her. He normally didn’t allow himself to be so careless, but he had been so carried away by her passionate response to him, that he hadn’t been able to stop until it was over.
He allowed himself a moment to recover his faculties and then he withdrew from her and fastened his trousers. She was still slumped against the bookcase, and with her nightgown hanging down, her robe still in disarray on either side, he could already feel his cock stirring with renewed interest.
It was her next statement that kept any further ardor at bay. “That’s what you really wanted, isn’t it Mr. Clarke? Now that you have had your ‘wicked widow,’ I think it’s time that you take your leave of the Manor.”
Chapter 4
Ada could tell that she’d surprised him, because he just blinked. However, he slowly moved away from her, giving her some space that she desperately needed, and walked out of the room.
Once he was gone, she stepped over to a nearby chair and sank down into the cushions. She wished that they had the ability to swallow her whole. She had never been so mortified by her actions in her life. Hadn’t she just told herself that it was fortunate she had the clear head in this house, the ability to keep the others from straying into depravity? And yet, what had she just allowed herself to do? She’d tupped a virtual stranger in the library of the Manor, a place that had become her private sanctuary but would now remind her of the one night she’d let her inhibitions take flight and control her common sense.
What had she been thinking?
In truth, she hadn’t. With one touch from Mr. Clarke, she’d melted in his arms. She had never acted in such a manner with Archie. They had always lain together under cover of darkness beneath the sheets, and although he had been a kind and considerate lover, Ada had never felt the sort of passionate fire she’d just experienced. Mr. Clarke’s touch had been so unexpected and… wonderful, that she hadn’t been able to keep him from taking it all the way to completion.
She clenched her fists in her lap. At least she could take heart in knowing that this was one night she’d gone astray, but with no one the wiser, she could continue to be the same, straitlaced matron that the council had come to expect. She prayed that word of her fall wouldn’t reach them, because it might be detrimental, causing her to lose the best thing she’d ever had in her life.
True contentment.
The next morning, Ada went downstairs. She was feeling haggard and weary, but at least she could take heart in learning that Mr. Clarke had departed late into the night. She ate her breakfast in silence at the dining table, in the habit of rising before any of the other residents, and tried, but failed, to adopt a sense of surprise when Mrs. Hall delivered the news.
“As it should be,” Ada returned sternly. “He would only cause disruption within the household.”
“Indeed,” the housekeeper returned. “It is for the best.”
“Now I just have to try to lessen the damage to the Manor from the article.” Ada sighed. “Have we received word from anyone from the council in London yet?”
“No, ma’am. Not as yet.”
“I suppose I’m just anxious over the latest gossip that might have arisen.” She took a sip of her tea and waved a hand. “That will be all, Mrs. Hall. Thank you.”
The lady bobbed a curtsy and took her leave. A short time later, Mr. Smith entered the room. “This just arrived for you, Mrs. Givens.”
Relief flooded her veins, feeling it must be the council’s reply, but when she glanced up from her plate, her face drained of color and she stood up from her chair. “What is that?”
The butler glanced at the array of hothouse flowers and then back at her. “They would appear to be flowers, ma’am.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes, I can see that. But what in heaven’s name are they doing here?”
The butler kept a straight face as he glanced toward the square card on the front and suggested, “Perhaps you might see who they are from.”
Ada walked forward warily. Her face felt as if it was scalded as she snatched the small paper from the midst of the bouquet. She read the inscription apprehensively.
To my dear, Mrs. Givens.
Thank you for your kind hospitality. On behalf of myself and my family, we would like to invite you to a formal dinner in London this evening in light of your graciousness.
I shall eagerly await your reply.
Mr. Brandt Clarke
Ada stared at the card for a long time. So long that the butler cleared his throat. “Shall I offer a reply to the sender?” he inquired.
She clenched her fist at her side. Ada was not in the habit of accepting invitations, but neither was she generally in the habit of declining them when it was put so eloquently. She ought to send her regrets in this instance, but she found herself wondering if this might be a step in the right direction of saving the Manor’s upstanding reputation. Thus, she found herself saying, “Let the courier know that I shall accept the invitation on behalf of the Manor.”
Later that day, Ada found her mind wandering more than once, although she did her best to appear busy with various chores, including cleaning out the attic. She detested the way her traitorous body wanted to respond to Mr. Clarke. Just the thought of seeing him again made her heart start pounding beneath her breast. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw his broad chest with the light smattering of hair across the front, the lean torso, and the strong, sure cock that jutted from between his narrow hips.
