Claiming His Wife

by Golden Angel

  Edwin spanked her until her bottom was a hot, flushed pink and her arousal was dripping down her thighs. His cockhead was dark red, angry looking and demanding to be buried inside of her. Something that he wasn't going to deny himself any longer.

  Flipping his wife on to her back, Edwin grasped her thighs and pulled them apart. The swollen lips of her pussy blossomed like a flower, coated with creamy dew, her clitoris so plump and eager that it was engorged larger than he'd ever seen before. Hooking her legs over his arms, he reached up to cup her breasts as he lined up his cock with her wet heat.

  "Yes, oh please, Edwin, please, yeeee-EEEES!" Eleanor screamed as he thrust forward, her body bowing and clamping down around him as he pinched down on her nipples and used them to hold her in place as he filled her.

  Her pussy spasmed around him, her legs bending and trying to draw him in further as she sobbed out in ecstasy. Making a low, growling noise in the back of his throat, Edwin leaned forward and began to pound into her, hard, fast and mercilessly, knowing that she was aroused enough that she could take it. In fact, Eleanor had started to orgasm almost the moment he'd entered her, stretching her open with the delicious friction of his cock sliding inside of her.

  With her wrists tied to the bed, and her lower body in Edwin's complete control, there was nothing she could do but shriek and convulse around him as he ravished her. Her pussy tingled and fizzed as her first climax began to subside, unable to fully dissipate while Edwin was still moving inside of her, his body rubbing against her sensitive swollen lips and the fat bud of her clit.

  He was rock hard, a length of steel invading her body, and rubbing over an exquisitely pleasurable spot with every thrust. Eleanor writhed, knowing that he was watching her every shudder, every twist of her body, and she enjoyed it. Knowing that his entire focus was on her was a blissfully satisfying experience, even if the rush of pleasure was becoming almost painful in its intensity.

  A second orgasm overtook her as he ground his body against hers, trapping her clit between them and using his pelvis to send waves of ecstasy surging through her. Eleanor cried out, her pussy tightening around the thick rod inside of her, trying to milk it of its seed. Instead, Edwin continued to thrust, hard and deep, making her scream as her body bowed and tried to move beneath him. She tried to press her legs together, but his arms held them too tightly. There were no defenses for her vulnerable pussy as his merciless assault on her most tender spots continued.

  She sobbed with relief and release as he groaned and surged, his cock swelling inside of her, throbbing against her inner walls as spurt after spurt of hot seed filled her. Drops of moisture clung to her long lashes as they fluttered, her eyes rolling upwards as the last spasms of pleasure were wrung from her body.

  Edwin's forearms kept him from putting his full weight on Eleanor as he released her legs and leaned over her, finding her lips with his. He was careful not to put any pressure against her stomach, although she didn't seem any worse for wear from their vigorous lovemaking. Kissing him back, she made those happy, dreamy sounds that indicated he'd tamed her - for now at least.

  Pulling his lips away, he looked down into those sapphire blue eyes that had captured him from the very beginning, even if he hadn't known at the time quite what that had meant.

  "I love you, Eleanor," he said, shifting his weight to one arm so that he could cup and caress her cheek, loving the softness of her skin, the submissiveness he felt in her every languid movement. "You're the perfect woman for me, never doubt it."

  The happiness shining out of her eyes was unshaded, and he knew that he'd finally found the right words, the ones she’d been waiting to hear.

  Chapter 8

  Damn his mother and her blasted notions of 'fun' traditions. Scowling into his cup, Wesley contemplated disobeying a direct order from his mother, so that he could at least spend the evening in the company of his bride. Whose bloody awful idea was it to keep the bride and groom apart for the night before the wedding?

  He could hear the gaggle of females, even from half a floor away. Another one of his mother's ideas; having Cynthia's friends over to help entertain her the evening before. Or, possibly, just to keep her occupied while his mother attended to all the last minute decisions and tasks that were necessary to any major event. She was absolutely in her element with this wedding nonsense.

  Truthfully, he didn't begrudge his mother her fun - he just wished it didn't come at the expense of his own.

  If Cynthia had been alone... well, he wouldn't have anticipated the wedding night of course, but they'd already done a few things and he wouldn't be averse to indulging in more of those. After all, there was a certain illicit thrill to engaging in sensual activities with his bride before she was actually his wife.

  Growling under his breath, Wesley decided to quit the house and head to Edwin's for the sake of his own sanity. It was only a short carriage ride from here to the house Edwin was renting. An even shorter distance to Alex’s, although he was fairly certain that Alex had joined Hugh at Edwin’s. Nell was here, with Cynthia, Grace and Irene, so the husbands had all gathered at Edwin's. Originally Wesley had intended to stay in his own house, hoping for a chance to see Cynthia at some point - not that he would ever admit the sentiment to anyone - and sneak her off somewhere for a bit of fun.

  If they'd been in London, he would have indulged in the expected stag night, although he privately admitted to himself that he would have still preferred to try and debauch his bride a little further rather than sit in some smoky den with women who didn't actually interest him and a host of other drunken men. Although, considering his closest friends were now all happily married, it was distinctly possibly that there wouldn't have been any loose women at his stag night anyway. Which would have been fine with him. The only loose woman he was interested in was Cynthia, and the damned wench had better only be loose with him.

  He'd been hoping to get a little stag night celebration with her, but it seemed like she was doing just bloody fine without him.

  Another peal of feminine laughter rang down the hallway.

  Tossing back the remains of his drink, Wesley swallowed, ignoring the burn in his throat, and slammed the glass down on the table next to him. Enough was enough. Bounding up and into the hall, he stalked towards the front of the house, resigned to the fate of becoming just like his friends, patiently waiting for their wives to come home. Although at least they could look forward to warm bodies in their beds tonight, unlike him.

  Well, perhaps Alex might be sympathetic. The man had been as quiet as ever when it came to discussing what was going on between him and his wife. Maybe Wesley wasn't alone when it came to an empty bed.

  ******

  Despite the concerns that had nagged her all day, Grace was thoroughly enjoying herself. She'd hoped to be able to sneak into Alex's study and go through his things, to find some clue as to his desire for a reconciliation, but he'd been in the blasted room all day. In fact, he'd still been in it when she'd left the house to come to Cynthia's.

  The atmosphere with the other three women was so relaxed that she could almost forget the tension that seemed to dog her every waking hour. Although the Countess had greeted them upon their arrival, she'd quickly excused herself to go attend to other matters, leaving the younger women to their own devices. Dressed in their less formal gowns, they'd sipped sherry (probably a bit more than was wise, and Eleanor had had weak tea because her stomach was feeling unsettled), eaten chocolate and given Cynthia all sorts of interesting marriage advice. Discussion and celebration of Eleanor’s pregnancy, once she confided the news to them, had led to a discussion of intimate bedroom proceedings.

  Grace was actually learning quite a bit.

  Especially when Cynthia had told them about using her mouth on the Earl.

  "Your mouth?" she said, shocked. Not just from the stunning visual, but from the very idea of it.

  "Yes," Cynthia said, looking at her curiously. "You mean, you've never?"

 
; Shaking her head, Grace fought back a blush as she tried not to contemplate the idea. When she glanced at Eleanor in an appeal for help, she was surprised to see her friend's cheeks turn pink as well.

  "Really?" Irene's astonishment was just too much for them to handle, as she asked the question in a kind of superior surprise. All three of them turned to look at the redhead, whom they’d all considered a bit of a prude, shocked at her nonchalance. She looked back at them, as primly as she always did. "What? Is it an unusual thing to do?"

  "Good grief, what kind of wedding night talk did you have with your mother?" Eleanor asked, sounding absolutely scandalized. Considering the icy coldness of the Baroness, Irene's mother, Grace couldn't imagine the woman sharing that kind of information either.

  "She didn't really tell me much of anything," Irene said, shrugging her shoulders. "I just do whatever Hugh wants me to. He likes it when I use my mouth. It's quite a lot of fun, actually."

  "Oh no, no," Eleanor said, shaking her head as she put her hands over her ears. "I'm not listening... I think my ears are bleeding!" All of them fell over giggling at her antics and the horrified expression on her face. Grace pressed her hand to her stomach, trying to control her mirth as tears sparked in her eyes she was laughing so hard. She'd never seen Eleanor so perturbed.

  When they finally regained control over themselves, she couldn't contain her curiosity. "But really... what do you do?"

  "Oh no, don't ask them about it," Eleanor said, giving Cynthia a stern look. "I can't tell you the amount of trouble I got into when I tried it with Edwin. He was sure that I had learned it from some other man."

  It was like a thundercloud suddenly shutting out the sun. Grace's chest went tight inside, as if her rib cage had wrapped around her heart and squeezed. While Edwin's suspicions of Eleanor were definitely without merit, if Grace and Alex were to reconcile and she was to try something so new with him... would he be upset? The others were exchanging glances, and Eleanor looked incredibly regretful of what she'd said.

  "I'm sorry, Grace," she murmured, reaching out and grabbing Grace's hand, a forlorn expression on her face. "I wasn't thinking... I just spoke..."

  Giving her friend a wan smile, Grace patted Eleanor's hand. "I'm alright. I know you didn't mean anything by it, and you're right." She gave a brittle little laugh. "With all my lovers, you'd think I would have been the one with the most experience!"

  That was certainly true. Although, she'd never been particularly adventurous in the bedroom. Once Alex had left, she'd been careful to keep things pleasurable, but light. She knew from her time with him that it was very possible to get creative, and some of her lovers had tried, but Grace hadn't encouraged any kind of experimentation. That was the quickest way to get kicked out of her bed, in fact. Keep things enjoyable and rote, that had been her motto when it came to her lovers.

  "Who was the best lover?" Cynthia asked. The question made Irene shriek with horror, Eleanor whack the curious brunette with her fan, and Grace burst into laughter. Trust the unmanageable hoyden to be the one to break the tension. She wished she could keep Cynthia with her all the time. Eleanor might be her best friend, but she didn't have Cynthia's irreverence, which had proven remarkably effective at jostling Grace out of her misery whenever it came crashing down.

  "You can't ask her that!" Irene was so appalled she was actually trembling, her voice a high-pitched squeak. It made Grace want to cover her ears, the way Eleanor had done a few minutes ago.

  "But I want to know!" Cynthia protested. "She's the only one who can tell me if I'm going to get bored with one man or not, isn't she?"

  "Well I can tell you I'm not bored," Irene snapped.

  "You don't have a point of comparison."

  "I don't need one!"

  "Children, children, calm down," Grace interjected, since Eleanor was laughing too hard to. She gave them both a slightly strained smile. Although Cynthia's question had made her laugh and loosened the tension in the room, answering it kept her spirits dampened. "Alex was always the best."

  Silence descended and she avidly wished that her life wasn't so complicated. Just like her to bring down the happiness of everyone else right before a wedding.

  "Why?"

  Irene groaned. Eleanor laughed. Cynthia looked at both of them in exasperation. "What? What did I do now? The why is important, don't you think?"

  "It's the most important thing," Grace said. Perhaps her own relationship with Alex had fallen apart, but since they were all handing out marriage advice to Cynthia, she was going to give the young woman the best words of wisdom she had. Maybe Cynthia would be able to make a better go of it. Certainly, Wesley was head over heels in love with the young chit, and she was fairly certain that Cynthia loved him back. It wouldn't do for her to accidentally ruin their relationship because of her natural curiosity, and Grace hoped her words would help Cynthia to realize that. "It was always the best with Alex because, for me, it wasn't just about the physical. I loved him and it made everything we did together transcend regular pleasure. With my lovers.... it was enjoyable. I found my pleasure. But it wasn't the same. There's nothing more incredible than making love with someone you love."

  This time the silence in the room was different. Reverent. Irene and Eleanor were glowing, but also looking at her with a kind of sympathetic sadness. She refused to think of it as pity. Cynthia looked thoughtful.

  "So, why are you fighting becoming reconciled with him?"

  Maybe it was Cynthia's guilelessness. Maybe it was the sherry. Maybe it was because she was finally starting to seriously consider that Alex might be genuine in his desire to reconcile.

  The whole story came spilling from her lips. They all listened, Eleanor with the sympathy of a friend who had already heard everything, holding Grace's hand and giving it the occasional supportive squeeze. Across from them, Irene listened with pursed lips, as though she was keeping in some of her thoughts, allowing Grace to fully have her say. Which made Grace wonder what insights Irene might have into Alex's behavior. It still hurt her, a bit, how close Alex and Irene had been, how much more Irene had known him, but it was a distant kind of hurt. Irene no longer flaunted their relationship the way she had back then, and she'd apologized for her previous actions.

  Cynthia was listening very carefully, chewing on her lower lip. She brightened when Grace got to the part about wanting to search through Alex's papers, to see if she could find a hint or even some evidence about any business transactions that might be spurring his decision. Of course, Eleanor groaned in disgust at Grace’s plan, since she hadn't heard it before.

  "That's a terrible idea," Eleanor said, shaking her head. "What if nothing's there? Then will you believe him?"

  "It would help," Grace argued. "I know it's not definitive, but if there's nothing condemning there, then at least I know."

  "I think it's brilliant," Cynthia gushed, leaning forward in her seat, her hazel eyes sparkling with mischief. "In fact, I think we should do it tonight."

  "We?"

  "Tonight?"

  Irene's squeak came right on top of Grace's question. The prim and proper redhead looked horrified at the idea that she was about to become a part of this.

  "Of course!" Cynthia said enthusiastically. She pointed at Irene and Eleanor. "You told us that your husbands decided to spend the evening together, yes? Do you really think Alex isn't there? They'll probably be up all night drinking, thinking us safely tucked away here. Besides, she certainly won't get a chance tomorrow. And don't you want to know what his correspondence says?"

  Reckless Eleanor looked like she wanted to say yes, but Irene was already shaking her head. "What if we're caught? How are we going to avoid being seen by the servants? Don't you think Manfred will notice if we all go missing from this room? Besides, I can tell you right now that I'm fairly certain Alex loves you," she said, looking beseechingly at Grace. Her words made Grace's heart jump in her chest, even though she couldn't quite bring herself to believe them. "When you were married
, he was the happiest I've ever seen him... and after you left, it was like all his emotions just closed up and went away."

  "That could have been because I humiliated him by leaving him," Grace countered, keeping her heart cold against the hope that was always trying to batter its way in. "My father is completely closed against me as well."

  "Alex isn't like that..." Irene said, but then she shook her head, a rueful expression crossing her face. "But then, sometimes I wonder if I know Alex as well as I think. I would have never expected him to spank his wife, and I certainly wouldn't have thought that he'd ever say that one woman is as good as another for his wife. I know he would do anything for his business, he loves his work, but..." Irene sighed. "I'm not helping am I?"

  "Nope," Cynthia said, turning her attention back to Grace. "Which is why we should absolutely search his study tonight."

  Even though part of her was clamoring to say yes, Grace hesitated. "But... Irene made some good points. What about Manfred?"

  The Countess' butler checked in on them every so often, ostensibly to see if they needed anything, but probably also to reassure himself that Cynthia wasn't running amok without the Countess to watch over her. Grace was under the impression that he didn't trust the other women to be able to control her. He probably didn't realize how true that was.

  "What if I stay here?" Irene said, rather eagerly. She glanced at the clock on the mantle. "Manfred hasn't checked on us in a while, he'll probably be by soon. If you leave after he checks on us, there should be plenty of time for you to return, and if you aren't back before he comes again, I can say you've gone to the retiring room."

  All of them looked at Irene with varying degrees of admiration. Despite the fact that she obviously didn't want to be party to the search of Alex's study, her deviousness and willingness to contribute in a very key way was impressive. Grace would probably have given up, rather than come up with something so sneaky.