The Fifth Wife

by Sahara Kelly

  She couldn’t help a little giggle. “Oh dear.” She looked up. “The things we do for our friends.”

  His blue eyes sparkled with laughter as he grinned back. “You, madam, are handful.”

  With a swift and unexpected move, he swung her around, dumped her face down on the tiny bed and whisked her skirts up and over her body, revealing her bare bottom to the cool air.

  “Charles…” The linens muffled her shriek, as did the layers of clothing tangled over her head.

  “You need discipline, my love. And I’m going to enjoy the task of keeping you in line.”

  With that, he placed a solid smack on her naked buttocks, and she squealed, only to moan as he replaced his hand with his lips and kissed her, nipping and licking to soothe the sting.

  “I’m going to dig up a clean shirt. Our bags are in my room if you need anything.”

  And he was gone, leaving Hannah with a pleasantly stinging arse and a heated curiosity as to what might have happened next…

  *~~*~~*

  Charles barely made it to the end of the corridor and his room before his cock threatened to erupt. He tore inside, slammed the door, leaned against it and dropped his breeches, remembering just in time to grab a handy cravat from the pile on top of his open bag.

  One stroke and he came, spending freely into the fine linen, clothes around his feet and his backside against the rough wooden panels. He should have been horridly embarrassed at his lack of control. But he wasn’t. It was all about Hannah and what lay ahead this night. His need was indeed beyond great; and the knowledge that she was now his wife and he could spend the entire rest of his life exploring her body and that incredibly beautiful arse of hers, laying with her, over her, under her and inside her…even fathering their children…

  Incredibly, his limp cock twitched at that idea.

  “Oh no.” He grabbed his breeches, refastened them and began to tidy himself. He couldn’t let another erection plague him. He wanted some left for his wife.

  Wondering when Hannah would appear at their door, and praying he could keep his hands off her for the next few hours, he freshened himself with the cool water in the ewer, splashing it liberally over his heated skin. Finally he felt almost human again and after donning a fresh shirt and running a comb through his unruly hair, he was ready.

  There was a tap on the door. “Charles? Can you open the door please? I have hot water.”

  Answering her call, he bent to lift the steaming cauldrons she’d brought upstairs. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me? I’d have carried these, dammit.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I have been carting those around for several weeks. It’s no hardship, believe me. I didn’t even think about it.” She glanced around. “I think you’d better go away now so that I can tidy myself. And this room.”

  He looked around as well. “What’s wrong with it?”

  She stared at him.

  He stared back.

  She gave in. “You have to ask?” She waved a hand. “Your clothes are strewn everywhere. Your towels are on the floor. I appreciate that you’re used to having a valet, whom I now pity with all my heart. But at this time he is not present, lucky chap. Thus it falls to me to pick up, fold, straighten and repack. Then I will change and tidy myself.” She continued to hold his gaze with an iron glare. “May I suggest you leave me to it?”

  He went without a word.

  Hannah smiled to herself. Maybe it wasn’t so hard being a wife after all.

  She whisked around the room, humming to herself as she restored order. Then she found her bag and pulled her one remaining dress from it. Thank goodness for the kindness of people—Agatha had been very generous with her niece’s leftover garments.

  As she struggled into it, she pondered how strange it was to meet with such kindness from people who were practically strangers, and yet at home…where one would expect kindness to begin…she’d known very little. The best she had hoped for was to be ignored.

  And yet now the good folks downstairs were preparing a celebratory dinner just for her and her new husband. She didn’t even know half of them. But she promised herself that she would, by the time they retired to their room. And she also made a promise that no matter what lay ahead, she would try and act in the manner of simple country folk. With their goodness in her heart.

  As she finished her toilette with a quick whisk of her hairbrush, Hannah also vowed one more thing. To be always kind and loving to her husband, no matter what. That didn’t mean they wouldn’t argue, of course, or that she wouldn’t try to make sure her suggestions were followed. It just meant that she would always respect him. And demand respect from him as well.

  She doubted that would be a problem, since he’d shown himself to be a profoundly kind man.

  And her gaze fell on the bed—and she wondered if he’d be kind there as well. She wasn’t quite sure about the whole business, but overall she was looking forward to it. And if Charles turned out to have a bit of a domineering edge when they were naked…

  She shivered with anticipation, grabbed a thick woolen shawl, and left the room.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The Sow’s Ear pulsed with music and laughter as the sun set that evening. Several regular customers had brought fiddles with them, and one had an ancient drum. Another had a pipe and between them all the floors had been cleared and the dancing had begun without much fanfare at all.

  As each visitor arrived bearing something for the feast, the food began to pile up on one of the long trestle tables set up alongside one wall. The fire blazed, the candles fluttered and there was laughter ringing up to the rafters.

  Charles won hearts with his impromptu hornpipe, followed up by his insisting on dance with Grandma Dickson. She grinned from ear to ear, showing nothing but gums, and then shamed him with her flourishes during an energetic Irish reel.

  Hannah was everywhere, hugging people at least twice, laughing and jesting with those she knew well and winning over those who were first time visitors.

  Finally, Charles judged it time to rescue his wife and retire, so that the merrymakers could settle to whatever it was they did when they were all half drunk.

  He hopped onto a chair and gave a piercing whistle. All heads turned to him. “Well, my friends—we’ve had a splendid evening thanks to you. So my wife and I would like to raise our tankards in a toast.”

  As he raised his, everyone else grabbed for their drinks and lifted them high.

  “To the good friends here tonight. Gentlemen and ladies all. Thanks from myself and Lady Hannah…may the laughter never die and the warmth carry you all throughout the year. To good friends…”

  “To good friends.”

  The words echoed around the room as everyone drank.

  “And now, my wife and I must retire. We have an early ride ahead of us on the morrow. So once more, our thanks. And goodnight.”

  He jumped down, grabbed Hannah’s hand and ran for the staircase, trying not to hear many of the comments called out as the party noticed the hasty departure.

  “Good Heavens,” giggled Hannah. “I think that was Grandma Dickson. Are we really going to do that?”

  Charles just shook his head. “Don’t stop. And we have to make sure we lock the door. I don’t want any company observing us tonight and they’ve all had just about enough ale to make that sound like a good idea.”

  They rushed headlong down the passage and into the large end room, shutting and barring the door behind them.

  “Damn. I wonder if this will be enough.”

  Hannah studied the massive bolt above the lock. “Well in lieu of some sort of portcullis, I should imagine that should suffice to keep out even a horde of marauding Normans. Now our friends downstairs, on the other hand…”

  “All right, perhaps I’m overreacting.”

  “Perhaps?”

  Charles eyed her sternly. “Lady Penvale. Jest with me now at your own risk.” He neared her. “Turn around.”

  “Are you g
oing to spank me again?”

  “Perhaps. But first I’m going to take your clothes off.”

  Hannah’s pulse broke into a gallop. “All right.” She let him untie her dress and loosen it enough to drop down over her shoulders to the floor. “Do I get to undress you?”

  Her chemise straps were pushed down.

  “Do you want to?” Charles sounded a bit breathless as he pulled the simple garment down to her hips, baring her to the waist.

  “Oh yes.”

  He turned her. “Then please do.” He unbuttoned his top shirt button.

  Heedless of her bare breasts, she rushed to strip him, fingers flying down the front buttons and pushing his shirt away as quickly as she could. Then, after running her hands over the firm muscles, she obeyed an instinct and moved closer, rubbing her nipples against that same flesh.

  She moaned as he slid a hand to the back of her head, holding it and tilting it for his pleasure. His gaze rested on her face as she gasped for breath, feeling the first fluttering of ecstasy low in her belly.

  “Charles.” She whispered his name, a breath of pleasure against him.

  “’T’is time, my love.”

  He removed the rest of her clothing and his own, managing to touch her everywhere as he did so.

  She looked at him then, naked and so close to her. His cock was stiff, pointing meaningfully toward her. He was large, that she knew. But how large…well, it surprised her.

  Tentatively she reached out and gripped him, glancing up and noting the color in his cheeks and the lowering of his eyelids as he too succumbed to the desire of the moment.

  “I like touching you.” She daringly stroked his length from the tip to the nest of dark blond curls at his groin.

  He groaned. “And you shall, love. But first give me permission to explore my wife.” He picked her up and laid her gently on the bed, then followed her, settling beside her. They had only lit one branch of candles, but it was enough for both of them.

  The soft light danced over his skin as he bent to her and his hair was golden silk where it brushed her sensitive flesh.

  He kissed her, softly, sweetly, sucking at her tongue and teasing it with his own. She sighed with pleasure and he moved to her neck, licking and nipping the place where it met her shoulder, then pressing his lips to the tiny hurt.

  Hannah writhed, her body eager, hungry, wanting so much—wanting everything. The more he caressed, the needier she became. When he reached her breasts, molding them in his hands, weighing them and then suckling hard on the sensitive buds, she cried out—a soft sound of passion that echoed around the room.

  He teased her, licking her nipples then blowing on them, making her shiver even as her flesh heated beneath his touch. She could feel the moisture gathering between her legs and wished he were there already, but then he started to nibble beneath her breasts and she learned a new sensitivity.

  Everything he did pushed her arousal to new heights. His hands stroked her, soothing yet inviting, claiming her as his own. He caressed her belly, kissing his way around her navel, making her laugh as he rubbed his chin beneath it and tickled her with his rough, unshaven skin.

  Just as she surrendered to the moment, he pushed a finger inside her swollen folds, and she jumped at the unexpected intrusion.

  “Sssh. Get used to the feel, Hannah. Relax.”

  “Uhh…”

  She would have pointed out that this wasn’t the most relaxing experience she’d ever had, but Charles chose that moment to explore those delicate female folds. With his tongue.

  Her hips lifted in a wanton invitation. And he accepted, settling himself to devour her, delving this way and that, rubbing rapidly then slowing to long loving strokes—driving her up and up until she was panting and grabbing the linens with both hands.

  He kept that finger inside her and she suddenly realized that another was joining it. He was stretching her, readying her for the final act of their passionate performance. But just at the moment his tongue was finding so many exquisite places that she forgot about anything but parting her thighs wide and giving him whatever he wanted.

  She was soaking wet, every nerve ending shuddering in a vortex of physical pleasure. It was close now, this tidal wave of sensation that would swamp her and throw her off the edge of the highest cliff.

  He moved, keeping his fingers within her while he straddled her. She missed his mouth and his tongue and whimpered at the loss.

  “Easy now, love. Let go of everything and relax. Just feel…”

  He lifted her legs and let them rest on his, while his thumb found a sweetly tender spot and delicately massaged it.

  She did her best to obey and then felt him replace his fingers with his cock. She couldn’t help it—she tensed.

  He must have sensed it though. His thumb never faltered and Hannah started to tremble as her climax built rapidly within her spine and her muscles froze.

  She broke, a scream of pleasure erupting from her throat as the magnificent explosion of indescribable feeling roared through her.

  She barely felt Charles thrust home past her maidenhead, nor did she hear his roar as he pushed deep, stroked within her and then released his seed. His throbbing spurts did burn a little, but instead of pain, she felt delight as the pulses stimulated her inner muscles and she rode the wave once again.

  After what seemed like uncounted eons of time, Hannah’s body began to ease, her limbs falling limply to the bed, her heart slowing and her breath returning to starved lungs.

  Charles, gentleman that he was, tumbled to one side with a groan, his cock slipping from her as he did so. That moment was unique; something precious lost after so much had been gained.

  She wanted to cry with the joy of it and laugh at the absurdity. Instead she turned on the pillow and looked at her husband. He was watching her with those beautiful blue eyes.

  “That was…” she shook her head. “I love you.” She had no words.

  He smiled and brushed a stray lock of hair away from her face. “Are you all right?”

  She nodded. “Better than all right.” She paused and examined the twinges in her body. “But I think I might be a bit sore tomorrow.”

  “I will make sure we don’t overdo it.” He pulled the covers up over them both. “Tonight and tomorrow. Limited riding.”

  She rolled her eyes at his jest.

  “Oh, and something else, wife.” He rose up on one elbow and kissed her before pulling her close and tucking her against him. “I love you too.”

  *~~*~~*

  Wife.

  Charles rolled the word around in his head as he prepared the horses for the last leg of their journey home to Fontaine House.

  He had a wife. He’d pledged himself to a woman he barely knew and hadn’t wanted within the space of less than a week. And he was besotted. The memory of her face as he took her last night, the sweet scent of their sex, the sighs and sounds of her…yes, he was besotted.

  In the cold light of dawn, however, he forced himself to push the emotional storm into one corner of his mind and rediscover the ability to think logically. He had taken a life-changing step—not exactly on a whim, but not with his usual amount of careful consideration.

  Was this the result of a bad case of lust for a lovely young woman? He certainly desired her. His body was that of an active and healthy male. What man wouldn’t respond to those unusual eyes, the quick smile and the curvaceous young female beneath the simple country garments?

  So yes, the lust was there.

  It had been there with Amelia too, but he’d never mentioned love. Neither of them had. But then again, conversation hadn’t been much of a feature of their relationship. That had been more along the lines of two wild animals in heat.

  It had been an obsession. A need for sex and savage fucking. To feel that rush of intense madness again and again. Amelia knew how to tease, how to draw that animal to the surface. She had drained him again and again, only to wait until he had revived and then repeat the pr
ocess.

  His time with her had left him emotionally numb and physically exhausted. But never had he felt this sense of elation and satisfaction that he experienced on this, the first day of his married life.

  He couldn’t wait to set off with Hannah by his side. He couldn’t wait to take her to her new home and see her in his house, surrounded by his possessions, his servants, his life.

  He couldn’t wait for her to make it hers as well. And perhaps in due course they could fill some of the smaller rooms with their own family. It was how life was supposed to work.

  And that, he realized, as he stared into the morning sky over the ears of his horse, was what had been missing with Amelia. She was living the life she expected and wanted.

  It was nowhere near the one he had in mind.

  The horse, somewhat puzzled by his master’s inactivity, chose that moment of revelation to snort and butt Charles with his head.

  “All right. Patience, lad. We’re almost ready.” He fastened the last bag and checked the girth. He’d adjust Hannah’s stirrups when she came down.

  On that thought, the lady herself arrived.

  “Why didn’t you wake me, damn you?” She glared at him, her hair all over the place, her shirt buttons crooked and her cloak over her arm. “I rushed.”

  “No, really?” He grinned and took her cloak from her, then re-buttoned her shirt. “You looked far too delicious to wake, my sweet. If I had done so, we’d still be in bed. Since we have a few hours riding ahead of us, I nobly quenched my carnal desires so that you could sit with relative comfort on the back of a horse.”

  She cast him a withering glance. “You are all concern, my Lord.”

  “Of course, my Lady.” He took the cloak, shook it around her shoulders and made sure she was snugly covered. Then he dropped a kiss on her nose. “It’s going to be difficult to get used to being Lord and Lady Penvale, you know.”

  “You do not need to tell me that. I have no idea how to begin.” She rested her hand on his shoulder and put her foot in his hands, allowing him to throw her up into the saddle. “I am terrified I shall disgrace you, Charles.”