But when I turned back to him, he had fallen asleep, a contented smile on his face. I tucked the covers around him and kissed him on the top of his head.
“Sweet dreams, dear uncle.”
* * *
Drake
The door to Uncle Jarvis’ room had been left ajar so I slipped in unnoticed and eavesdropped on the final part of the conversation between Amy and Uncle Jarvis. My heart nearly overflowed with love as I observed my two favorite people in the entire world having a conversation about life and love. And me.
Uncle Jarvis was correct. I can be difficult and I did have great affection for her. How could a woman who was nothing but unbridled passion in the bedroom be so gentle with the care of an elderly man?
Uncle Jarvis’ words rang in my ears. I would not allow pride to keep me from having her in my life forever. I knew her sister was in desperate straits in America and I would send a generous sum to assist her in her charitable endeavors, but I would not allow my wife to leave.
No, I could never allow that.
When she turned to exit the room, Amy finally saw me and the unguarded happiness on her face at seeing me filled me with pleasure. She raised her face to me for a kiss and I happily complied. Before the kiss ended, I scooped her into my arms to carry her to my bed.
“Drake!” she squealed. “Put me down.”
“Shh. You do not wish to wake Uncle Jarvis, do you?” I left the room and moved rapidly down the corridor to my own bedchamber. Our bedchamber.
Amy slipped her arms around my neck and traced her fingertips the length of my throat, toying with the knot of my neckcloth. Apparently she no longer objected to being carried.
Though I moved with speed and intention, she managed to loosen my neckcloth before we arrived at our destination.
The door closed behind us and I flipped the lock. I had done my duty to the estate for the day and I intended to take my pleasure from my wife for the night. I anticipated a long night of decadent deeds.
When I set her down, Amy held my neckcloth out to me. “Do you remember when you tied my wrists with this? On our wedding night?”
Remember? How could I have forgotten? Though I had never intended for us to marry and therefore had not vetted my future wife in the slightest other than to ascertain she was unmarried and a willing participant, I could not have asked for a better partner. A better wife.
I looked at her as she waited for my answer. Her hair had fallen loose from its pins and framed her face with silky strands. I ran my fingers through it. I gave a small tug. Reaching into her coiffure, I removed the rest of the pins and allowed her tresses to fall. Burying my hands against her scalp, I pulled her to me and kissed her, slow and tender until she melted against me, the neck cloth dropped to the floor.
After releasing her lips, I kissed from her jaw to her ear, breathing deeply of the scent of her. It was a unique blend I could recognize anywhere as Amy, sweet and sensual and more than a little spicy, just like her.
“So,” I husked against the lobe of her ear, “were you a good girl today?”
“Mmm.” She squirmed against me, her hands roving my chest and pushing my coat off my arms and tugging the sleeves until she could toss the garment far away. “I like you much better without that coat. It gets in my way.”
“You seem determined to undress me tonight, naughty Amy. But you have not answered my question.”
She pressed her palms on my chest and gave a tiny shove. “I will tell you, but you must catch me first.” With a devilish giggle she scooted out of my reach and hurried across the room.
“Oh, you are a naughty girl. When I catch you, I am going to put you over my knee.”
She turned and waggled her shapely behind at me. “Naughty? Me?”
I took two steps toward her and she dove under the bed and crawled to the other side, before she popped up and waved at me. “Can you not see me, Drake? I am right here. I thought you were going to catch me and give me a spanking. Did you change your mind?”
Our eyes met and held across the expanse of the bed. I rolled up the sleeves of my shirt and pushed them above my elbows.
I faked a move to lunge over the bed at her and she fell for my trick running toward the foot of the bed where I grabbed her around the waist and swung her up in the air. “I caught you. Now you must pay the price for your insubordination.”
Sitting on the edge of the bed, I laid her over my lap and began swatting. “Now, tell me, were you a good girl today? Or did you get into mischief with the ladies of Briar Glen?”
The layers of her dress made an effective spanking impossible. Besides, I wished to see her creamy arse turn from alabaster to crimson as I disciplined my naughty bride. “This is in the way,” I said, working the fastenings of her dress. “Take it off.” I stood her between my knees and stripped away the layers of her clothing until there was a pile of garments on the floor. I kicked them away and put her back across my lap. “Ah, that is much better,” I said, landing some smacks over her cheeks.
“Drake!” Amy wiggled over my cock deliberately rubbing her mound over my erection. “Stop.”
Raising my knee, her thighs tipped open, providing a better view of her cunny. I stroked my finger through the wetness there. “You do not appear to be suffering overly much. Me thinks the lady doth protest too much.”
“Shakespeare?” Amy swiveled her head. “Are you actually quoting Skakespeare?”
“Hush. You have become much too impertinent, young lady.” My swats became more determined and within a few moments my wife’s bottom bloomed like a red rose.
I delved my fingers into her quim, gathering up her natural moisture and spreading it along the crevice of her arse. On the second pass, I pressed first one and then a second finger into her bottom hole. She moaned and pushed toward my fingers. “You have done such a good job with the plugs, I believe you are ready for the real thing tonight.”
Her body stiffened and the muscles of her bunghole tightened around my digits. With my free hand, I gave a swat to her left cheek. “What have you to say about that plan, naughty Amaryllis?”
“Yes, please.”
* * *
I had been training with butt plugs. I ought to have objected, but after the first time Drake plunged into my arse with his fingers, I have been eager to experience his hard cock in the same location.
On my hands and knees atop the bed, butterflies danced in my stomach as Drake applied generous amounts of salve to my bottom hole. He had stripped off his clothing and I glanced over my shoulder to take in the view of his bare body, the muscles of his shoulders bulged as he moved his arms to reposition me for his pleasure.
His cock stood ramrod straight and Drake stroked over it, applying a coat of salve. I licked my lips, wishing I was the one touching him there. His eyes met mine. “You will get your chance, Amy. This is just the beginning. I have hungered for you today and it will be a long time before I am sated.”
I buried my face in the cushions and moaned.
He smacked my bottom and chuckled. “That seems like a good start.” He heaped up the pillows so I could rest my torso on them. “Now, bring your hands back and pull the cheeks of your bottom apart.”
We had done this numerous times when he seated the plugs in my bottom, but somehow this felt extra embarrassing. And utterly exhilarating. I did as he told me.
“Good girl.” He ran his finger along the entire length of the crack between my cheeks and a delicious shiver ran through me.
“Hold steady, Amy,” Drake said, touching the tip of his cock to my opening.
I gasped and dug my fingers tighter into the heated flesh of my bottom. He continued working his way in, the head of his cock sliding past the ring of muscles and then the rest followed until he was fully encased in my private opening.
He paused for a moment. “Bloody hell,” he gasped. “You feel even better than I imagined.”
Happiness bloomed in my chest at his praise, even if it was for my arsehole. I
wanted to give him the same pleasure he gave me.
I pushed back with my bottom, signaling I was ready for more. He chuckled again. “Oh, you are so eager.”
His large palms grasped my hips and he moved in and out. At first his strokes were short, but with each stroke he moved a bit further out then shoved back in with increasing speed and power. I cried out with each thrust. My fingers continued to hold my cheeks open but they were cramping and my thoughts were so focused on the action in my arse, I nearly let go. Drake must have noticed my grasp slackening. “Keep those cheeks apart, Amy. You are doing a good job.”
Heat swarmed to every nerve ending in my body and a wave of ecstasy washed over me, seemingly from my toes to the top of my head. It was an explosion and I came with a shout, black dots swirling before my eyes. My fingers gave out and I slumped onto the pillows.
“I am not finished with you, little girl.” He wrapped an arm around my waist and held me in place as he continued to fuck my bottom hole. Wave upon wave of sensation washed over me as he pursued his pleasure. Finally, he shot his hot cum into my arse, filling me and collapsing on top of me, his flesh slick with perspiration.
“That was a good beginning.”
Chapter 14
When I woke the next morning and wriggled beneath the sheets, I enjoyed the wonderful ache of being thoroughly used the preceding night. My body had been stretched and filled roughly and repeatedly in a variety of satisfying ways.
After a brief rest I was eager for my husband again. I rolled to the other side of the bed reaching for his firm body.
My searching hands continued their endeavor but when I could not find Drake’s body, I woke from my post coital lethargy and sat up in bed. I was alone.
Glancing about the spacious room in the early morning light, there was no sign of him. His dressing gown, which he usually left over a chair next to the bed was missing.
Perhaps he had gone to the kitchen for nourishment. He deserved it after a rigorous night of lovemaking. My own stomach grumbled and I hoped he brought something back for me as well.
The door opened slowly and I looked in that direction expectantly, for now that I had the idea of food on my mind, I was starving.
Drake entered the room, but rather than carrying a tray of cheese and meat, his face carried an expression I had never seen before. His shoulders slumped and when his gaze met mine, his eyes were red.
I rushed to him and clasped his hands in mine. The same hands which had heated my body in multiple intimate ways just hours before were now frigid and shaking. “My dear,” I gasped, “what is it? What has happened?”
He moved as though in a daze and pulled me into his arms, burying his face in my neck. He still had not spoken since entering the room, but as soon as his arms encircled me, his body convulsed against mine and his tears dampened my hair.
A sense of knowing came over me and though he had not responded to my questions, the answers were clear. Uncle Jarvis had left us.
My heart fell to my toes and sadness overwhelmed me. Though I had known all along that his days were numbered, somehow I had not really believed it. Had not wanted to believe it.
We remained that way for several long moments together in our mutual grief. Though he had been more forthcoming in recent days, Drake remained a tightly controlled man, which made his display of sadness all the more heart wrenching to me.
Drake pulled out his handkerchief and wiped the tears from my face before attending to his own tear stained face. We moved to a large leather chair where he sat and pulled me onto his lap.
“I would like to see him one last time,” I said.
“Dr. Spencer is with him now,” Drake said. “I would rather that you not see him at all. Just remember him how he was in life. I observed you talking to him last night as he drifted off to sleep and I saw the happy expression on his face. I would like to think that is the way he looked when he passed on.” He tipped my chin up so that he could look into my eyes. “That was thanks to you. I want you to know how much you have meant to him, and to me, over these last few weeks.”
Over these last few weeks.
Why did that phrase sound like the first part of a good-bye? What was next? Good luck? Thanks for stopping by?
Fresh tears pricked at the corners of my eyes and a new wound opened in my heart.
This was the first part of good-bye.
A soft tap on the door interrupted our privacy. That was to be our last moment alone until well past midnight when we would both collapse into bed exhausted from the strain of the day. Funeral arrangements were made, express messages were sent to London to spread the word of the passing of a great man, and soon the house overflowed with members of the community who wished to pay their respects to the departed and offer condolences to those left behind. The house was draped in mourning. The staff, all of whom had been fond of Uncle Jarvis, and many of whom had been in his employ for decades, all moved through their tasks with solemn faces. Though the activity level had increased, Jade River Hall was eerily quiet as sadness settled over all.
The following two days continued much the same. By the evening before the funeral, Drake had deep circles under his eyes and it seemed the hair at his temples had grayed a bit. I longed to smooth it back with my fingers and whisper words of love and care to him, but it could not be. Not only were we not afforded the time alone for such moments of intimacy, but the words of our last private conversation continued to ring in my ears. I know how much you have meant to him, and to me, over these last few weeks.
During the long hours I sat vigil for Uncle Jarvis I tried to focus my mind on higher things, on prayers for his soul, but all I could hear was Drake and what I was convinced was the first part of a farewell speech.
* * *
The funeral was over and the last of the mourners had left. Feeling bereft, I wandered the halls and as if drawn there, I found myself in Uncle Jarvis’ chamber, thumbing through the book which I had been reading to him and which we had not finished.
Was that not always the way with death? Loose ends and unfinished business.
I glanced over at Uncle Jarvis’ writing desk and remembered my horrible faux pas of leaving my sister’s letter, as well as my reply, there for anyone to see. My backside tingled at the recollection of Drake’s punishment.
It also reminded me that my sister expected me in America. Sooner rather than later. Another letter had arrived just that morning urging me to be en route at my earliest opportunity.
Now that my obligation to Drake had been completed, my earliest opportunity had arrived, much as it saddened me. Heartache wrapped around me like a heavy cloak and I wondered if it might crush the breath from me.
Just a few weeks ago, I was certain of the path my life was on. Certain of what I wanted, but that person no longer existed. I was now Drake’s wife and wished more than anything to remain so.
Do not misjudge. It was not the trappings of my station in life that mattered, it was the life I had at Jade River Hall and in Briar Glen with Drake and the people of the village. But, mostly, I thought about Drake. His touches and the rough way he liked to take me from behind. He satisfied me in so many ways, body and soul.
Would a life of service to the poor in America ever be able to compare?
Was I a selfish creature to put my own desires above good works?
The answer did not matter because regardless of what I wanted, my time at Jade River Hall, and as Drake’s wife, was up.
Sadness unlike any I had ever known washed over me.
“There you are.” Drake stood in the doorway. “I thought I might find you here. It is difficult to believe he is gone. I shall miss him.”
“As will I.”
He closed the gap between us and held an envelope out to me. “I meant what I said, you made his last days very happy. Thank you.”
The envelope was thick and I knew its contents without looking. Money. As we had agreed. Payment for a job well done.
It felt l
ike a dead weight pulling on a noose around my neck. “Thank you,” I managed to say despite the lump in my throat.
He took my hand in his and drew me to stand. “We still have tonight.”
* * *
Drake
I wondered if she knew how it pained me to hand over that envelope. No, not because I am miserly, but because it signified the completion of our agreement. The end of our time together. The termination of a marriage neither of us had planned to enter in the first place.
Since the day I knocked on Lady Ambrosia’s bright red door, my life had taken on flavor and excitement and passion which I had never envisioned. And with the dawn, it would return to the dull and colorless existence I had led before. Even more so, with the absence of Uncle Jarvis.
It was a dreary prospect and my heart yearned to beg her to stay. When I handed over the envelope, I had prayed she would reject it. Slap it away and tell me my money meant nothing to her, all she wanted was my love, to continue as my wife for all eternity.
Instead, she said thank you.
At least that is what her mouth said. Pressed against mine, her body said she was not so indifferent to me. Our lips came together and I quenched my need for her with a satisfying kiss. Then I took her hand and led her down the corridor to the bedchamber we had shared since her arrival.
I carried her to the bed and laid her upon it. Gazing down, I allowed my eyes to feast upon her features one by one, committing them to memory, though I could not imagine I would ever forget her. She was seared upon my soul.
She smiled up at me and reached out her hand in invitation. I joined her upon the bed, though we were both fully clothed. Instead of a frenzied final night together, we were languid and tender with one another, as though if we moved slowly, perhaps the clock would too.
His Bargained For Bride: Regency Matchmaker Book Four Page 11
