In unison they flipped the buttons free and then moved to the next, and next, and next until his pantaloons slithered down and disappeared below the bed. Hers on the other hand slipped down but hung on her buttock for a second or two. His eyes were fixed on the reluctant garment and his chest rose and fell as his breathing became more labored.
For a moment she thought to tease him and keep them suspended. But they had both waited too long for this to prolong a moment longer. So, she shimmied and they fell silently to the ground. He rewarded her with an appreciative smile.
And then he was crawling across the bed toward her. Mary met him in the middle and his big hands grasped and flipped her onto her back. For a moment he hovered above her, gazing down into her eyes.
Breathlessly she whispered, "Kenny."
"I've been dreaming about this for eight long years," he said.
Her heart warmed even as her stomach roiled a little. "I've been dreaming about this for more than thirteen years," she challenged.
His eyes crinkled as his smile grew. "Is this a contest?" he asked.
Her heart thudded loudly beneath her breasts. "No. Never that," she replied and reached for him.
Their lips met in open hunger. He slashed his across hers as he sank his tongue into her mouth. Mary met him with equal fervor. After an eternity he left her breathless and started trailing kisses down her neck.
With a handful of kisses, he reached the valley between her breasts and she arched her back and flung her head backward. He rewarded her by sliding to the right and cupping her breast in his powerful hand.
He began torturing her by raining little kisses around her areola. "Kenny," she cried as she pressed her breast towards his mouth. She heard him chuckle but she didn't care as he gave into her need and suck the engorged tip into his mouth. Mary's whole body teemed with raw need as she arched off the bed.
Rodney wasn't the least bit surprised at how responsive and passionate Mary was. As long as he had known her she had never done anything halfheartedly. No, Mary was the all-or-nothing kind of woman. It was what had drawn him to her as a child. And it was what had made him fall in love with her.
As she settled back onto the bed, he moved to her other breast to pay it homage as well. As soon as he feasted on her nipple, she arched off the bed once again, lifting him up as well. He suckled her for several minutes and then moved downward, kissing a path toward her stomach. His hands plumped her breasts and his thumbs glided back and forth across her nipples, pebbling them.
When he reached her bellybutton, he worshiped it for a second and felt her inward breath as her stomach spasmed beneath his lips. He chuckled as he gave it one last kiss and then moved to the thatch of honey blonde hair he had been wanting to explore. Rodney nuzzled his face in the fleece like hair and inhaled the scent of her.
Mary's fingers entwined in his hair and pressed him downward. He smiled and gave in easily as he knew what she wanted. Especially since he had been dreaming, thinking, and fantasizing about it all night long. How could he not when he had been infatuated with her long, sexy legs encased in those tight-fitting pantaloons?
Crawling to the end of the bed he nudged her knees further apart and began kissing the inside of her thigh. Slowly, he worked his way upward, feeling every little shudder and moan as he drew closer and closer to her core.
Finally, he reached the apex of her legs and wet his finger before parting the folds and exposing the pinkness of her center. Rodney's heart thudded painfully in his chest as he inhaled the essence of her. She smelled heavenly and he could not wait any longer to taste her.
Mary couldn't believe what he was doing. From the ribald comments of Leslie and many of the other actresses she had known over the years, she knew what he was doing. And what he was about to do with his mouth. Bloody hell, she had dreamed about him doing this very thing for years. Ever since the first time she had heard one of the women talking about it. But until Mary realized who was waiting for her outside the theatre, she had never thought to actually experience it. Not with Kenny at any rate.
His lips grazed the edge of her womanhood and then nuzzled the hair just above her mons. She wanted to shove his head down to the area that was aching but she restrained herself. Barely. Then his lips retraced their path and he licked the hidden nub.
Over the years Mary had pleasured herself numerous times. But none of those compared to the electric shock of pleasure his tongue invoked with just a single flick. Her back arched off the bed and her breath became trapped in her throat. Then he licked her again and she began to pant in rhythm to each flick of his tongue.
And then her mind splintered when he began to suckle the nub and slip one of his fingers into her tight passage. Her whole body arched off the bed as waves of increasing pleasure coursed through her.
He lifted his mouth and replaced his tongue with his thumb as he chanted to her. "That's it love. Let go. Let go and let it happen."
And she did. Her world exploded as wave after wave of erotic pleasure rippled through her being. Her whole world burst into a brilliant light as she soared high above the heavens and their bodies.
Mary felt loved. Protected as he stayed with her. Softly speaking to her as he continued to stroke her until every last bit of pleasure was rung from her body. As she returned to the mortal realm, he began kissing a path up her stomach, passed her breasts, and to her lips. He kissed her deeply and then pulled away.
Her eyes opened to him staring intently down at her. "Mary, I need you."
She knew what he was asking and reached up and cupped his face with her hands. "Yes. Please," she replied.
He took a visible deep breath and swallowed. "I . . . I don't want to . . . to hurt you sweetheart."
It only took a heartbeat for her to understand what he was asking. She shook her head. "Kenny, you won't hurt me."
He had always worried about hurting her or her being hurt by one of her adventures. Intuitively she knew if she told him that she was still a virgin that he would try to stop and not finish what they were doing. And she wouldn't be able to survive the coming years if she didn't have this moment with him.
Fortunately, it was all the encouragement he needed. Kenny moved above her and wet the tip of his cock between the folds of her sex. He poised at the entrance for a second and then began to slowly press into her. Mary felt her body stretching to accommodate him and knew the pain would be worse if he continued his slow penetration. So, she arched up and met him half way. His cock seated to the hilt and a gasp of pain was ripped from her throat.
Rodney froze, buried deep inside of her and stared down at her in an accusatory way. He huffed out, "You told me you weren't a virgin."
"No," she breathed, "you said you didn't want to hurt me. And you haven't."
His mouth dropped open and he shook his head. "Oh, my dear sweet little Mary Contrary." After several agonizing seconds he bent down and kissed her. For a moment she thought he was going to leave her. Especially, when he began to withdraw. But just as she was about to beg him to not stop, he thrust forward slowly until he was seated inside of her once again.
"Does it still hurt?" he asked.
It did a little but not as much as before. Mary shook her head. "No. It is fine now."
"I'm not sure I believe you," he replied and dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose. "But I'm not sure I could stop if the entire French fleet was bearing down on us right now."
"Then don't," she said and pulled him down for a deep, tongue dueling kiss.
And he didn't stop. He took her to heaven once again. And twice more before he fell into a deep, exhausted sleep.
Chapter 14
Noon
Rodney woke up feeling better than he had in eight years. The sun was shining through the open window, warming him from the inside out. Things had worked out better than he had ever hoped for. Mary had gotten back the money that had been stolen from his father. Binsby had also gotten his just deserts, if not by Rodney’s hand, then by someone wh
o would see that he paid for his crimes. And the woman he had loved for years was going to be his wife. Yes, it was a glorious day.
Unfortunately, his euphoric feeling lasted all of about thirty seconds. That was how long it took him to realize that Mary wasn't in bed with him. Fifteen seconds later he found the note she had left on the pillow by his head. With building trepidation, he read the note in her flowing scrip.
* * *
My Dearest Kenny, (Oh hell, this did not bode well. There were dark splotches on the vellum. One that nearly obliterated his name. And more towards the bottom of the note.)
* * *
I love you. I always have. But your father was right, I am not what you need in your life. My life has always been unpredictable, chaotic, and turbulent. Your father said that I was not the kind of woman an officer in His Majesty's Navy needed at his side. And he was right. Nor am I the kind of woman the Earl of Hamstone will need by his side. So, I am going to do what I do best. Please do not try to find me. This is better for the both of us.
* * *
With all my best wishes for a wonderful life, Your dearest friend,
Mary (Contrary) Cumpston
* * *
P.S., Please do not forget to tell people that you knew me and my "husband" so that I can give my niece the life she deserves.
* * *
Oh, bloody hell he was right. It wasn't good. She was doing it once again. Making decisions for the both of them based on what his dastard of a father had said about her. He had loved his father. But the man had been a bloody pain in the arse. His stodgy, pompous, and haughty view of the aristocracy had suffocated Rodney as a child. Mary had been the only thing that had kept him alive during those formidable years. And yet again, even from the grave, his father was trying to control his life.
He should have paid closer attention to the nagging feeling that something was not quite right with Mary last night. It had been the same eight years ago. The night he had lost everything he really cared about. Well, he wasn't going to lose her again. Even if he had to follow her to the ends of the earth, he was going to find her this time.
Twenty minutes later he was dressed and charging down the hotel steps. His horse was waiting for him so he bolted up and raced off to the bellows and expletives of a number of people and drivers. He didn't care. Not about the disparaging comments or the scandal he was undoubtedly causing. But it did give him and idea. Mary was running away because she was convinced she was too chaotic, turbulent, and scandalous for his stoic and stodginess. Well, he was going to show her just how unpredictable and wild this earl could be.
Thanks to the crowded streets it took Rodney forty minutes to reach Mary's townhouse. His impulse was to kick the front door in and storm her home. But that would destroy her hopes of the infamous actress Marietta Sigona fading away and the respectable Mary Cumpston-Jamison emerging in a quiet village somewhere in the remotest corner of England. And despite having no intention of allowing her to "just fade away into obscurity" he also had no desire to destroy her reputation.
Fortunately, she had shown him her private mews and secluded entrance last night. Rodney rode around to the alleyway leading to the back of her house. He trotted into the mews and jumped down, tossing the reins of his horse to the stable boy. He slipped through the hidden garden and burst through the kitchen door. Two gasps erupted from the scarred wooden table in the middle of the room. One of outrage and one of shock.
"Ere now, what do you think you about, busting in 'ere like that?" the tyrannical Mrs. Bastion demanded.
"I'm looking for Mar . . . Mar," he eyed the two women cautiously. Last night he had assumed that her roommate and staff knew about her past. Suddenly he wasn't so sure. They obviously knew she was not a black-haired Italian woman. But did they know her real name was Mary Cumpston?
He started over more slowly, "I'm looking for Maryyy-ietta."
The younger, blonde woman looked him up and down and then cocked her head to the side. "You're him. Aren't you?"
Hesitantly he asked, "Him? Which him are you referring to?"
She gave him another carnal inspection from head to toe and then grinned up at him. "The one that had her crying her eyes out every night that first year."
Oh God. A rock hit the pit of his stomach. Rodney also felt like a heel for hoping that he was in fact "the him" that had Mary crying every night that first year. Carefully he said, "I'm Rodney – Hamling,” he didn't use his title as he knew Mary hadn't known about it until yesterday. “Late of His Majesty's Navy and of the village of Hamstoneshire. Mary and I both grew up there."
"Bloody hell," the young woman exclaimed. "You are him. I just knew you were when I heard she was running around with a former naval officer last night. It just had to be you. She's done nothing but talk about her friend the heroic naval officer for eight years. So, I knew when I heard what she was doing last night that there wasn't another man in this world she would have done that with but her fancy hero." She eyed him for a second and then her grin grew mischievous. "You really as stodgy and straight-laced as she told me you were?"
He smiled back and shrugged his shoulders. "I'm afraid so. But I'm trying to do something about that. And I need to find Mary to make sure I don't become a complete utter boor."
The shorter, stouter woman pushed her way in between the two of them and glared up at him. "That girl come home four hours ago, crying her eyes out she was. Did you make my baby cry?" she demanded.
Rodney's heart sank. He knew from the splotches on her note that she had been crying when she wrote it. "I'm afraid so."
Her chin notched up. "And just what did you do to make my little girl cry like that?"
His stomach churned a little more as he confessed, "I wanted her to marry me."
The older woman's face wrinkled farther as her eyes snapped together. "You asked her to marry you?"
A cold chill rushed through him and squeezed his heart tightly. Hesitantly he replied, "I was going to ask her to marry me. But before I could she slipped away while I was sleeping."
The woman's face turned blotchy and he could swear smoke was now rising from her head. "You was going to ask. . ."
"Oh my God, she did it again! Didn't she?" the younger woman exclaimed loudly.
The cook halted in mid tirade and looked at the girl. "Lizzie, just what is it you is goin' on about?"
The girl stepped round the cook and confronted him once again. "Eight years ago, you were going to ask her to marry you."
Rodney nodded his head cautiously.
She took a deep breath and then continued in a halting voice. "Then your daddy went to see hers, and threatened to cut you off and destroy her family if she married you."
Again, all Rodney could do was nod his head.
"And rather than hurt you or her family she up and run off."
The cold hatred he had been feeling for his father resurfaced. "Until yesterday, I was unaware of my father's actions. I was told by her father that she had run off and married another man."
"Johnny Jamison," the girl confirmed. "They were supposed to get married. Least wise that was what they were supposed to do. But neither one of them wanted to marry the other so they just went their separate ways. He joined the navy, as I recall. And Mary became an actress."
Mary hadn't told him that she was supposed to marry the bonder Jamison. But knowing his father the way he did he wasn't surprised by the news. He shook his head. "As I said, I was unaware of any of that until the other day when I ran into Mary at the theatre."
She looked him up and down in a very wanton way. "And then you just fell head-over-heel in love with her again, once you saw her."
He smiled or smirked back at the impertinent woman. "Miss?"
"Benson. Miss Leslie Benson. But everyone just calls me Lizzie."
He bowed his head in acknowledgment, "Well then, Lizzie, even though it is none of your business, I will tell you anyway since according to Mary you are her best friend. I have never stopped
loving Mary."
The girl's face lit up and she beamed up at him.
From behind Lizzie the cook's voice boomed. "And just what makes you think my girl is still in love with you?"
His hand rose and pressed against the note she had left him by the bed. "Because she left me a letter telling me goodbye. In it she told me that she loves me and always has."
The cook stepped around the younger woman and glared defiantly at him. "Then why is she running off then?"
Rodney glanced at the friend and then back at the agitated cook. "Because, Mrs. Bastion, she still believes that she will unsettle my well-ordered and stodgy life."
Her eyes narrowed and her chin cocked up another inch. "And will she, Mr. Hamling?"
"Oh Lord, I hope so," he returned immediately. "In fact, it is my deepest and most profound hope that she will do exactly that to my rather boring life."
The three of them stared at each other for seconds and then in unison the two women nodded their heads and determined smiles blossomed across their faces.
"Well then, Mr. Hamling, we need to get you and my little girl together before she does something she will regret for another eight years.
Rodney smiled back. "Thank you, Mrs. Bastion. Thank you very much. And, it is Lord Hamstone. Earl of Hamstone."
"Oh lord save me. My little girl is going to be a Countess."
He smiled back. "That's the plan, Mrs. Bastion. That's the plan."
Doubts assaulted Mary the moment she had walked out of Rodney's hotel room. She kept telling herself that it was just her treacherous heart that was causing these doubts. Logically running away was the right thing to do. Just as it had been eight years before. She just couldn't ruin his life. She loved him too much to do that.
So, running away was the only thing she could do. Which meant she had a couple of other things she needed to take care of before she left London forever. The first was to go by her townhouse and let Leslie and Mrs. Bastion know that she and Abby were leaving tomorrow morning. Mary still didn't know where they were going. Somewhere in the south of England. Possibly Cornwall. But she would make that decision when they got there.
The Earl's Night of Being Wild (The Fallen Angels NOVELLA series Book 3) Page 10
