Word of a Lady: A Risqué Regency Romance (The Six Pearls of Baron Ridlington Book 3)

by Sahara Kelly

  Her indrawn breath sounded like a gale in the quiet room, but it was to be expected, James knew. He did not consider himself to be anything extraordinary, but this was Letitia’s first experience with a man’s cock. He hoped his would meet her expectations.

  “Oh James,” she murmured. “How very…unique.” And she reached for him, not knowing that she was within a hair’s breadth of having him release all over her hands.

  He fought a new battle for control. This one harder than anything he could remember. “It’s all right. Touch me.” I’ll try not to die or scream or drown you if I accidentally orgasm. “Your hands, your skin—you excite me.”

  She caressed his hardness as he prayed he wouldn’t crack a tooth. “So fascinating.” She discovered the sac beneath his cock, her fingers curious. “Is this a pleasurable sensation as well?”

  His vision blurred for a few seconds. “Yes, very much so. It’s also quite fragile…” and would enjoy you fondling it, please.

  Letitia drew her hands up his groin and stopped at his navel, where she ringed it with her fingernail. “I like all of you, James. Everything I’ve seen so far.” She glanced up, her eyes full of excitement, need and what he hoped was lusty passion. “I only need to see your feet to make sure that every part of you is perfect.” A wanton smile crossed her lips.

  “As you wish, love. Anything you wish. I must take my boots off…” For a few moments he struggled with his clothing, tugging at his boots, removing his silk socks and kicking away the damn breeches that had hobbled him.

  At last, he stood nude before her, and held his arms out to his sides. “Do you approve, Letitia? Will I do?”

  “Hmm.” She looked him over, up and down, then bent to remove her own stockings and boots. “I believe in a fair match, James. So I must ask if you approve as well…” She copied his pose, a little grin curving her lips.

  “We should stay like this forever,” he groaned.

  Sweeping her off her feet, he walked her the few steps to the bed and tossed her down on the quilt on her back. She laughed as she bounced, and he followed her.

  Then buried his head between her thighs.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Harriet and Paul left FitzArden Hall at a little past midnight.

  After James and Letitia had retired, there was a bit of an awkward silence in the library, but finally Harriet had sighed. “Well, now we have to occupy ourselves for a little while, I suppose.” She looked at Paul. “I have to thank you, Mr. DeVoreaux. For the dreadful inconvenience both Letitia and I have asked of you.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “What, just for walking you home?”

  “Late at night. In the cold.”

  He chuckled. “Dear girl, I have boots and a warm winter cloak, not to mention a muffler and a hat, and even gloves when I remember to wear them.”

  “Yes, but even so…” Harriet tried to do her best to thank him. “I am in your debt.”

  “Strictly speaking, it’s James and Letitia who are in my debt.” He stared into the fire. “I hope it won’t turn out to be a disaster. If it does, I shall refrain from reminding them that I helped make it possible. I’d appreciate your not mentioning it either.”

  “I won’t,” she promised. “But I doubt that eventuality will come to pass. They’re far too well-matched.”

  He nodded. “Rock and steel.”

  “Pardon?”

  “James and Letitia.” Paul stretched out his legs and crossed them at the ankles as he looked at Harriet. “Letitia is sharp steel, bright, intelligent, often flashing and darting here and there.”

  “Well, you could say that, yes.”

  “And I just did.” He grinned. “But then you have James. Steady as the proverbial rock, and with the patience of one as well. He will wait, and wait and wait until he gets his way. There’s no moving him, unless you’re an earthquake, once he’s set his mind to a thing.” He pointed above the fireplace. “See that painting?”

  Harriet nodded.

  “It took him four years to get that. He had to wait out two previous owners. But he wouldn’t accept another in its place.”

  “A man of great determination, then,” acknowledged Harriet.

  “Indeed.”

  She sighed. “He’ll need all of that and more if he’s to deal successfully with Letitia. Once she’s set her mind on a goal, she never gives up until she reaches it. Nothing gets in her way.”

  “I foresee an interesting few months ahead for both of us,” he laughed.

  “Oh dear,” said Harriet. “I believe you may be correct, sir.”

  He glanced at the clock. “Well, what do you say, Miss Harry? Shall we take our leave?”

  Harriet wished she could answer no. She so enjoyed sitting like this, safe and warm, in the company of a gentleman she had found herself coming to admire a great deal. But—if wishes were horses, then beggars would ride. It was a saying of her mother’s, and it still rang true.

  “It seems like the right time, yes,” she said, standing and allowing herself a little stretch. “This evening has been great fun.”

  “I have enjoyed myself a lot,” said Paul, on his feet in an instant and banking down the fire. “I hope we have chance to repeat it.”

  “As do I,” Harriet replied.

  “I still wonder if we should have taken horses. Or one horse,” mused Paul. “You could have ridden pillion.”

  “But then someone in the stables would have known,” answered Harriet practically. “We are trying to keep this entire evening private, aren’t we?”

  Paul agreed with a nod, retrieving his cloak and a thick muffler, along with his hat.

  Wrapped in their warm woollen cocoons, they opened the front door, only to be greeted by a whoosh of wet snowflakes. “Oh look,” cried Harriet. “It’s snowing.”

  “An astute observation,” remarked Paul, wiping his face clear of the icy cold blast.

  “Isn’t it lovely?” She all but danced out onto the steps, her arms wide, her face upturned. She’d always found snowfall to be entrancing, especially when she was a little girl. “I recall the first snowflakes…such excitement there was. So many happy memories.”

  Heedless of the slick coating, she hurried down the front steps, while Paul closed the door and cautiously followed her. “Watch your step,” he called. “It’s slippery.”

  And indeed it was. She lost her footing on the last step, skidded sideways, tripped and ended up with her bottom stuck in one of the small bushes edging the stairs.

  Paul hurried down to extract her from the privet. “There now, I did warn you. Are you hurt?”

  She laughed as he struggled to pull her free, and shook her head. “No, no, I’m quite uninjured. My dignity suffered a bit of a bump and I may have dented the bushes…” she retrieved her muffler and wound it around her neck. “That’ll teach me to over indulge in brandy.”

  He held her steady as she brushed off the back of her cloak. “Your dignity looks quite presentable to me.”

  “You’re too kind, Mr. DeVoreaux.”

  “Call me Paul? I just fished you out of the shrubbery. We have shared the back of a wagon with Chillendale ale. I believe those two instances, as well as others, make us friends.”

  Harriet caught the warmth in his gaze. “I’d like that, Paul. But only if you call me Harry.”

  “Not Harriet?”

  “Letitia calls me Harry. It was a good name for a maid. And now it feels as if it’s special, some sort of connection I’ve not enjoyed until now. So no, not Harriet. Harry.”

  She was so sincere, so delightful as she turned her face to his and earnestly explained why a simple nickname meant so much to her, that Paul, already charmed by this young woman, completely forgot himself.

  He whispered “…then Harry it shall be,” and kissed her.

  *~~*~~*

  When James’s mouth found her tender woman’s flesh, Letitia let out a surprised squawk. She was so close to screaming that her lungs heaved, but some sort of re
straint held her back from the howl that hovered in her throat.

  It was without doubt the most exquisite, surprising, unexpected and erotic moment of her entire life.

  She’d read about such things, of course. But actually feeling it, sensing James’s tongue darting over and around and between places that had turned into a mass of glorious tingles…well it was beyond words.

  My writing will never be the same.

  The thought flashed through her mind as James’s teeth grazed a particularly arousing spot, and she found herself parting her legs even wider, a lascivious invitation to him to carry on doing exactly what he was doing.

  His hands slid upward, cupping her buttocks, lifting her into the perfect position for his mouth. She felt the strength of his forearms beneath her thighs, an added strangeness that heightened her awareness of their nakedness.

  She reached downward, letting her hands touch his hair, feel the strange hardness of his skull beneath the warm skin. He nuzzled, murmured sounds of pleasure, tongued her more hungrily—each a tiny advance into unknown waters.

  She was as wet as the ocean already, but James didn’t seem to care, lapping at her folds with enthusiasm.

  It was all so new, so…unexpected.

  Every inch of her body seemed to come alive, the slightest brush of air brought a tiny shiver with it, and the feel of the sheets beneath her bare back reminded her that there was nothing between her and this world of sensuality to which James had brought her.

  He was slowly but surely driving her upward, toward that crest she knew would take her over the edge and bring her moments of exquisitely breath-taking oblivion. The signs were all there and growing…the shorter breaths, the tightening of her muscles and the flood of sensation emanating from that tiny spot he’d been caressing so tenderly with his talented tongue.

  She shuddered from it, from the onslaught of so many sensory shocks at one time. Her toes curled, her fingers scrabbled to hold on to the linens and her spine began to bow as he held her fast, refusing to let her move away from his mouth.

  “Yes,” he hissed, a whisper against such sensitized flesh. She shivered again, her buttocks clenching within his grasp. “Come for me, Letitia.” He growled as he licked her hard, an upward stroke that hit beneath that magic place with a force that sent lightning darting through her body. Her breasts felt swollen and full, aching a little, and erotic awareness of her own body shattered through her like a massive wave breaking against a cliff.

  “Let it happen,” said James, moving back and rising to kneel between her parted thighs. His fingers kept up the sensual massage and she knew she was powerless to resist.

  “God,” she groaned, her head moving from side to side, her body writhing as darts of arousal shot through every muscle, every inch of her. She was riding a wave, lifting her higher, higher—and higher still…

  Then she broke, whimpering mindlessly as her vision turned to glittering rainbows and everything that she was exploded into a million tiny pieces. Rigid, her muscles held her above the bed for long seconds as her existence narrowed down to where a man’s hand touched her. And as she flew down, filling empty lungs with a heaving breath, he petted her gently, murmuring soothing sounds, stroking her skin.

  “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Your passion is beyond belief, Letitia.” He lay next to her, still touching, still stroking her. “Your eyes turn mysterious and your body…I have no words.”

  She swallowed and turned her head to look at him. “Really?”

  “Yes, love. Yes.” He ran his hand from her shoulder down over her arm to her thigh, and then back up again. “Are you all right?”

  She smiled. “Oh yes. Very all right.”

  “Good,” he smiled back. “I think you’re ready for more.”

  She looked down at his cock, so hard and thick, lying against her leg. “I think you’re right.”

  “I won’t hurt you if I can avoid it, Letitia. Please understand that.” He moved again, this time aligning their bodies so that his face was close to hers. “There may be a little pain, though.”

  “I know,” she whispered. “I want to feel you inside me, James.”

  “I want to be there, love. And I hope you’re relaxed and ready enough to take me.” Gently he shifted to take his cock in his hand and rub it over her soaking folds, making her groan with pleasure.

  “God, that feels so…so right…”

  “I have wanted this since the first moment I laid eyes on you.”

  She looked up at his face, his hair wild about his shoulders, his eyes on where their bodies were touching. “You have?”

  “Yes.” He kept up his stroking, pushing a little harder against her. “Every time we met I knew that one day I would have you here, in my bed, naked beneath me. I knew that I would touch you, make you come, and then that I would do this…” Another shift forward and he was pressing against her slick opening. “I knew you were mine, love. There was never any question at all in my mind.”

  “I had no idea,” she gasped as he began to push himself further. “And yet now, it seems so natural…”

  “It is. It’s destiny,” answered James, his voice rough. “Because you’re mine, Letitia.”

  She couldn’t answer him; he was pushing now, harder and harder, until with a tiny sharp pain that made her gasp, he was there, filling her so strangely and yet so completely.

  Their gazes met, hers seeking something in his face that would acknowledge where he was and what he’d done.

  What she saw… it made her want to look away.

  She saw naked love, adoration and an expression on his face that was soft, and yet sensual. Her heart twisted inside, and an unusual sense of belonging fought with her customary fear of such entanglements.

  “Are you all right?” whispered James.

  “Yes,” she whispered back. “You’re inside me. It feels…quite astounding…”

  “Just wait,” he smiled.

  And then he began to move.

  Slowly at first, which she appreciated, since it gave her the opportunity to catalogue and relish each new sensation. Then faster, and something inside her responded, drawing her into his movements, making her want to thrust upward to meet him.

  His control was astonishing, she realized, since he must have been hard for so long while he made sure she was ready. And even then, he didn’t rush, but simply took her in an easy leisurely rhythm that gave her chance to catch up.

  Once again she sensed the beginnings of desire, the rush of juices slicking her soft folds, and any discomfort she might have expected vanished as she shifted beneath him and felt his body abrade that tiny spot of wondrous pleasure.

  He gauged his thrusts carefully, it would seem, a little deeper, then deeper still. She loved that sensation, loved knowing that she had joined in this way with James, a moment so pivotal that it seemed only he could fully appreciate it. He was the ideal size, she realized, since her body was already accustomed to his presence, stretched around him like a custom made glove.

  “Hold on, love.”

  His thrusts intensified, and now the inner movements were stimulating her, bringing her along as he began his own ride to the peak. He must have realized what was happening when her spine bowed again and her hips lifted from the bed.

  “Yes, God, yes…” his hands slipped beneath her and he pulled her onto his cock, going as deep as he could, then back and forth, teasing them both, driving them both ever upward.

  He broke first, a groaning cry as his head snapped back and every muscle locked hard.

  She cried out as well, the first shudders of her own release beginning slowly, then rocking through her as she felt his cock spasm inside for the first time. It stimulated so many nerve endings that she closed her eyes, afraid she would soar away from the world if she didn’t. Clinging to James, her hands scrabbling for his, she sobbed tiny breaths, aware only of their bodies joining and caressing each other in the most intimate of ways.

  Eventuall
y they fell, sated, limp and sticky, into each other’s arms.

  Letitia stroked James’s back as he lay atop her, gasping for air. His skin was damp and she breathed him in, a scent of musk and man and salty sweat.

  People were right, she realized. It really was a life-changing experience.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “I should apologize,” said Paul as he walked Harriet down the FitzArden driveway. “But to be honest, I don’t think I can.”

  Harriet, still giddy from their kiss, glanced at him from beneath the hood of her cloak. “Then don’t.”

  “I’m glad I kissed you,” he said with a measure of pride. “I’ve been considering it for quite some time.”

  “Really?”

  “Of course.” He neared her and took her hand, locking his arm around hers, holding them close to each other. “You’re a very desirable woman, you know.”

  She gave a wry chuckle. “Up until recently, Paul, my desirability was solely based on my potential income.”

  He sighed. “I understand. And it makes me exceedingly angry that you were so badly treated.” They walked on. “Would you like me to have your aunt and uncle…er…disposed of?”

  “What?” She nearly stumbled at his words, grateful he was holding on to her so tightly.

  His teeth flashed white as he smiled at her. “I could, you know. I have the right contacts. Nobody would be any the wiser.”

  “You really are a pirate at heart, aren’t you?”

  “Absolutely,” he agreed. “That’s a most astute observation.”

  “No regard for rules,” she walked slowly but steadily beside him.

  “None whatsoever.”

  “You will do what you think is right,” she continued. “Just like Blackbeard.”

  “Well, not quite as adventurous, but I’m not adverse to a bit of plundering now and again.”

  “Pillaging too?” Harriet smiled.

  He thought for a moment. “Possibly. Although I believe I’d be a better plunderer than pillager.” He drew them to a halt. “May I practice?”