He sighed. “I haven’t decided. Puppies are loud, disruptive, and chew everything they can get their sharp little teeth on.”
“So do children, or so I’ve been told.” She sipped her tea, and then asked gently, “Where is their mother?”
Abel’s gaze shuttered. “Catherine…died. In childbirth. They don’t know her beyond memories and portraits. I’ve been too lenient with them as they’ve grown. It’s why they can be… unruly. It’s been difficult. Raising them alone. Trying to know how stern to be. Whether I should give them a lecture or a hug.”
Lillian’s heart gave a small, poignant tug inside. Setting her scone and tea aside, she placed her hand on the duke’s thigh and softly squeezed. A small token of comfort in an ocean of grief. “I lost my mother when I was a baby as well. She didn’t die. As terrible as it seems, it might have been better if she had. Then at least I would have grown up knowing that she loved me. Instead, she left before I could memorize what her face looked like. And I’ve had to grow up knowing that she didn’t love me enough to stay.” She took a long breath. “My father raised me, as you’re raising your girls. And although I’m sure it was hard for him as well, he did a wonderful job. The best job. Because he did it withlove. As you are.”
Abel put his hand on top of hers. Their fingers interlocked; pieces of a puzzle coming together that never should have fit but somehow clicked perfectly.
“I really do have a meeting,” he said gruffly.
“And I should return to the theater.”
But neither of them moved.
“Or perhaps… perhaps you could go to your theater and then come back here, for dinner.” His thumb curled around her wrist, hovering over the light flutter of her pulse as its tempo increased. “I can send a carriage for you.”
Lillian gazed up at him. Unable to stop herself, she brushed a lock of ebony hair behind his ear. And when he lowered his head almost imperceptibly, she kissed him. A long, slow, lingering kiss that filled her with a contented, glowing warmth from the tips of her toes to the ends of her eyelashes.
Cradling her cheek, he shifted her onto his lap as the kiss went on, and on, and on. Both of them loathe to be the one to end it as time itself seemed to stop. The light in the room intensified, heating her neck as she slipped her fingers into Abel’s thick, luxurious mane and they sank into each other.
He traced her spine, following the delicate bumps of each vertebrae until he reached her bottom and she gasped when he brought her closer to his loins, clasping her buttocks with one hand and tugging her nightdress over her knees with the other so that she could straddle him, the smooth inside of her thighs clinging to the coarse fabric of his trousers.
She tipped forward as he leaned back and they fell together onto the mattress, sprawling on top of one another in a tangle of limbs and lips. A flicked glance at the door to make sure it was firmly closed before she reared up, first to pluck the pins from her hair so that it released over her shoulders in a tumbling waterfall of tawny tendrils and then to pull off her nightdress(with a touch of dramatic flair, of course).
“Lillian.” The knot in Abel’s throat bobbed when she stretched like a lioness, allowing him to look at her.Wantinghim to look at her. At the slender slope of her shoulders. The slanted line of her collarbones. The dusky pink of her nipples. The small hollow in the middle of her navel. The thicket of curls between her thighs. His jaw worked convulsively, and when it appeared as if he wasn’t sure where to start, she started for him, first with his shirt and then his trousers, dropping her chin and giving a tiny, teasing lick on the point of his hip bone to get him to arch off the bed so that she could remove the last stich of clothing from his magnificent frame.
“YourGrace,” she said, her gaze moving across his manhood with appreciation. Dappled sunlight spilled into the rigid lines of his abdomen, illuminating the veritable wall of muscle. The man, bless him, was a work of art. A marble statue come to life.
And he was hers to do with what she wanted.
“Put your hands above your head,” she ordered, and while his gaze flickered, he obeyed.
“Authoritative,” he rasped, his stomach quivering under the light pressure of her lips as she began to kiss her way further downward.
“You’ll thank me later,” she promised before she took him into her mouth, circling her tongue around the damp tip with little licks and sucks before starting to work her way down to the thick, pulsing. Despite her outward show of confidence, it was an act she’d never performed before, although Marjorie and the others had certainly regaled her with stories, most of them bad. But stretching her lips around Abel, tasting Abel, hearing Abel’s groan as she took him deep into her throat… it was a satisfying, thrilling pleasure unlike any she had ever experienced before.
Without warning, she suddenly found herself flipped breathlessly onto her back while Abel loomed above her, hisarms taut on either side of her.
“Put your hands above your head,” he demanded hoarsely.
For once, Lillian listened without hesitation, nearly hitting the headboard in her haste to submit to his request. Her previous lovers had never attended to her downthere, and she’d always secretly wondered if she would enjoy it.
When Abel’s mouth settled at the apex of her curls and his tongue outlined the small nub of her desire before slipping inside her wet, velvety quim, she had her answer.
Yes.
Yes, she enjoyed it.
She enjoyed itverymuch indeed.
When he had reduced her to a quivering, writhing pile of nerve endings and curled toes, he made his way back up her body, pausing only to languish over her breasts until with a half laugh, half mewling whimper, she dug her nails into his scalp and urged him upward.
Their gazes met when he entered her and she saw his pupils dilate before he captured her mouth in a searing kiss, his tongue moving in tandem with the thrust of his hips. Already teetering on the brink, she raced toward release with Abel right behind whilst stars danced behind her closed eyes and their hearts pounded in tandem.
A cry tore itself from her lips when she came, her ankles hooking around his hips while her slick walls tightened around his cock as wave after wave of sweet, heavenly pleasure coursed through her veins. Withdrawing at the last possible second, Abel spilled his seed into the sheets as she threw her arms above her head. After he had collapsed beside her, his countenance utterly dazed, she twisted to face him and propped up her chin with her elbow.
“Have the carriage sent at six o’ clock.” Blowing him a kiss, Lillian sprang out of the bed and began to get dressed.
