Just One Kiss

by Stephanie Sterling

  The wicked grin that he was wearing gave Daphne a clue as to his intentions, however, and when he started to carry her in the direction of the orangery her eyes widened to the size of small saucers as she began to guess his intentions.

  Well, a kiss was one thing, but surely he didn’t mean to… “Edward, put me down!” she begged, giving a little ineffective kick of her legs that hardly supported her request in the slightest. “Edward!”

  “I’m going to put you down,” Edward murmured huskily. “When I’m ready,” he added smoothly.

  “No, now, Edward!” Daphne demanded, as her husband, completely ignoring her, carried her inside the orangery. It was hot inside, almost unbearably so. Daphne took a deep gulp of heavy air and squirmed in Edward’s arms. “It’s too hot,” she sighed, fanning her face.

  “Well maybe we should do something about all these clothes you’re wearing?” Edward whispered into her ear. He finally put her back down onto her feet, only Daphne wasn’t quite sure that her legs would carry her weight any longer. “That might cool you down?” he rasped thickly.

  More than likely it would make her even hotter! Yes. She’d guessed what Edward was after, but for him to actually come out and say such-such… scandalous things, it was causing Daphne’s temperature to positively rocket! She was achy and needy, but what sort of a lady was she if she couldn’t control her own desires?

  “Someone will see,” she whimpered, continuing to make a half-hearted protest to Edward’s advances as he urged her back towards a large, cushioned, wicker chair that was more than big enough for both of them to sit in… somehow Daphne didn’t think that ‘sitting’ was quite what Edward had in mind.

  “No one will see anything,” he purred, pushing her down onto the cushions.

  With the deep foliage inside the orangery they were quite well concealed, Daphne had to admit, but if one of the gardeners should decide to work inside today…! “Edward-” she sighed his name again, but it was clear to both of them that she was giving up the fight.

  Grinning like a Cheshire cat, Edward knelt down before Daphne. He ran his hands heavily over her legs, starting at her thighs and then moving all the way down to her ankles. At first, she wasn’t quite sure what he intended to do, and then he placed her foot on his knee and lifted her skirts so that he could begin to untie the laces of her delicate little boots.

  “Better?” he purred, once her footwear had been discarded. Daphne was sure she didn’t know how to answer. Edward was running his fingers quite indecently over her toes. Luckily, she was saved the bother, because he continued: “although I know what else we can do to help,” he whispered, reaching to roll down her silk stockings.

  Daphne could only shiver helplessly as her bare skin was exposed to the elements. She gasped in delight at the whisper of Edward’s fingers and the kiss of a delicious little breeze that had swept into the orangery from one of the large, open windows.

  She curled and flexed her toes, and then gave a little squeak of pleasure when Edward leaned forward and began to bathe the soft skin of her legs in kisses. He started at her ankle, and then worked all the way up over her calf, pushing her skirts higher as he worked. It wasn’t until he reached her knee, and she was exposed to mid-thigh, that Daphne actually snapped out of her dreamy stupor long enough to try and push her skirt back down.

  “Edward, no we shouldn’t-you know that we shouldn’t,” she panted.

  “But do you want me stop?” he asked bluntly, looking up at his wife, from where he was kneeling, very nearly between her knees. Daphne felt a flicker of wanton lust pulse to life in her womb at that realization.

  “I-” Daphne stammered breathlessly, thinking that it was a very unfair question for Edward to ask her.

  “Well?” he purred, slipping his hands higher, burying under her drawers and creeping towards the centre of her femininity.

  If she was going to stop him then it had to be now… only Daphne didn’t-couldn’t stop Edward. She debated with herself until she felt her husband’s fingers stroke through her damp thatch of curls and then dip into her wetness. She was vaguely ashamed of just how ready he found her, although the smirk that spread across Edward’s face set off a series of twinges in those unnamable parts of her body that she had always been taught proper ladies didn’t think about.

  “Edward,” Daphne purred, giving herself up to the pleasure that he was stroking into her skin. She parted her legs wider, shamelessly coaxing him to continue his ministrations.

  She started to pant. It was so, so hot, she was sure that Edward was causing her to melt, or should that be boil? She wasn’t sure any longer; she could barely even think. She could feel little beads of perspiration gathering under her dress, one trickled down between her tender breasts as she ground her body wantonly against Edward’s hand.

  “That’s it,” he groaned, his voice thick with his own arousal. “Break for me, Daff.”

  Oh, she wanted to, and she really, really needed to, after her frustration earlier that morning, she was just like dry sun-scorched grass lying helplessly in the face of Edward’s blistering heat. She was going to go up in flames.

  “More,” she begged. “I need-” she gasped, and then she was given it as Edward plunged a finger into her, stroking her wickedly, before following the digit by a second, and then a third, stretching Daphne wide as his thumb continued to torture her.

  “I know what you need, love,” he panted, lifting himself up so that he could claim her mouth, although her never ceased his other attentions, and under the multiple assault, Daphne finally shattered spectacularly.

  “Oh-oh my,” Daphne puffed breathlessly against Edward’s lips as she slumped, completely boneless, in the chair. Her husband reclaimed her mouth, not giving his wife even a second to recover her senses as he withdrew his fingers from her fluttering sheath.

  Taking advantage of Daphne’s disoriented state, Edward began peeling away her clothes, completely disregarding the fact that someone might walk into the orangery at any moment. He wanted her, needed her so badly that he was straining painfully against his breeches, but he had to make this as near to perfect as he was able to for Daphne; he needed to do everything in his power to win her back.

  Edward slipped his wife’s dress off her shoulders, continuing to draw the fabric down until Daphne’s breasts sprang free of the confines. It was barely a second before the soft round swells were cupped in his waiting hands. Her skin was hot and faintly damp to the touch, and Edward blew over the rosy peaks until they puckered and hardened.

  “Edward!” Daphne gasped his name, unable to say anything else it seemed. She reached for his clothes, making a little whimpering sound of frustration when she encountered the material of his waistcoat and shirt. “I want to touch you,” she panted desperately, pulled his shirt from out of his breeches and slipping a hand under the warm cotton.

  Edward groaned, a low growling sound that came from the very back of his throat, and tensed as Daphne’s fingers glided over his skin. A shiver jolted all of the way through his body, throbbing in his groin. She plucked at the buttons of his clothes, her fingers working deftly with their newly learnt skill, undressing him quickly, so that in no time at all Edward had shrugged off his waistcoat and pulled off his shirt.

  “So strong,” Daphne sighed, raking her fingers up over his chest. Edward felt a boyish grin twitch at the corners of his mouth. His wife’s hands skated over his shoulders, looping around his neck as she tugged him closer and demanded another kiss, although her husband wasn’t sure how much more gentle teasing he was going to be able to endure.

  He needed to sink inside her. He needed to feel their bodies fused together as one. It was more than anything he’d ever felt before. This wasn’t simple rutting, he was making love to his wife— and Edward was just beginning to understand the difference.

  “I need you now, Daff,” he grunted, moving his lips from her mouth to her jaw, down her throat as he lifted her up off the seat and inverted their positions so th
at she was on his lap, forced to straddle him.

  A flash of apprehension flickered in Daphne’s eyes as she looked to her husband for guidance. “I don’t know how-” she began hesitantly, but Edward shushed her quickly, plucking at her body and driving all rational thoughts out of her head.

  “I’ll teach you,” he purred as he popped open the front of his breeches. “I’ll show you what to do,” he rasped, finally freeing himself.

  It wasn’t that she needed to be shown, Daphne thought, her mind in a dizzy whir. It was just all so wanton and wicked— and she loved every single second of it, a voice was quick to whisper.

  “Daff,” Edward groaned, bucking his hips beneath her. “It has to be now,” he grunted, grasping her hips hard and trying to guide her down, after stripping away her underwear completely. “Please, Daphne,” he begged.

  Daphne’s lips quirked in a smug smile as she realized her power. He wanted her, he needed her, he was desperate to have her… and she was in control, his hold on her hips was compelling, but she could resist him if she tried. Still, Daphne shivered as she Edward’s move against her. She made him wait a second longer before impaling herself on him, making him beg one last time, before finally fusing their bodies together.

  “Oh-” she puffed, and her most intimate muscles strained to their limits to accept his possession. It felt… different like this. She seemed to take him deeper into her body than she had ever done before. “Ooh, oh Edward!” Little mews and whimpers of pleasure trickled from her lips as she took him all the way into the heart of her.

  “Oh God, Daff, you have to move!” Edward panted, his face locked in a grimace that mimicked pain as she settled and stilled, holding him inside her wet heat. “Move!” he pleaded, cupping her bottom and bucking his hips beneath her desperately.

  “H-how?” she moaned, shuddering as she felt Edward shifting inside of her. He didn’t answer, didn’t really need to, for Daphne’s body soon began to rock of its own accord, guided at first by Edward’s heavy hands, but soon she became lost in her own rhythm, grinding and rolling their bodies together in a desperate, erotic dance.

  She was high on her own pleasure. Nothing existed outside this circle of raw need that they had created. Daphne was greedily chasing her second peak, almost deaf to Edward’s grunts and moans of pleasure as she drew closer and closer to completion. She reached her climax just a second before Edward.

  Daphne screamed her pleasure without a thought to anyone who might be able to hear her! She clenched and came so violently that she was literally left dizzy by her release. She slumped in Edward’s lap once she was spent, still fluttering and twitching around him as she struggled to catch her breath.

  “Oh my-” she gasped. “That was-” she started to pant, and then clamped her mouth shut, embarrassed by the words that wanted to spill out of her mouth-amazing, magnificent, incredible…

  …surely not terms a lady should use when discussing her… marital intimacies.

  “Yes?” Edward’s lips quirked wickedly. “That was-?” he panted, his eyes glinting.

  “Oh you are terrible!” Daphne swatted him playfully, slowly floating back down to earth. Not that she wanted to… she wanted to stay curled up in Edward’s arms and forget all of their troubles and strife.

  “Well, I agree, it was,” Edward yawned as he teased her with a smile. He dotted a kiss against Daphne’s cheek and tugged her more securely against his chest.

  Daphne let him hold her for a few minutes longer, but her feet were very definitely on the ground now and she knew that she had to go before she was missed, before they were caught!

  “Edward-Edward, I should be leaving now,” she said softly, disentangling her limbs from his body, collecting her clothes from where they had been tossed and trying to restore her appearance to something resembling decency.

  “Leave?” Edward echoed sharply. He stopped lounging and sat up straight. “What do you mean?” He fastened his breeches and stood up when Daphne turned her head away awkwardly. “Daff?” he frowned.

  “Leave, to-to go back to Dunnely,” she said quietly, sitting back down to roll on her stockings.

  “Dunnely?” Edward fairly spat the name. “To… collect some of your things?” he asked, with such hesitant hope in his voice that Daphne almost wanted to tell him yes, she didn’t however. She shook her head. “But we-you… we just-!”

  “I know,” Daphne blushed bright red. “But Edward, that doesn’t change anything, not-not really,” she tried to explain, her husband’s face was black however, and she feared that he wasn’t listening. “I want to meant more to you than just-than just that!” she exclaimed.

  “You do!” Edward argued instantly, and Daphne had to fight the sudden fierce flutter of her heart.

  “What then?” she demanded, forcing her voice to stay cool, but she couldn’t stop the pounding in her chest. She was willing Edward to say the right thing, to say something, but he just stared at her, with a horrible blank confused expression on his face and couldn’t muster a response at all. “Well, I think I have my answer,” she sniffed, blinking hard so as not to cry.

  “Daphne wait!” Edward blurted, reaching out an arm to stop her as she tried to brush past him.

  “For what?” she sighed.

  “I want you back,” he breathed hoarsely. “You have to believe me!”

  “I do, Edward,” Daphne said sadly. “I just think you want me back for all of the wrong reasons.”

  Chapter 26

  Edward opened his mouth, but Daphne didn’t hear what he said as he was drowned out by a nearby rumble of thunder. Daphne gave a little start of surprise, and then offered an embarrassed giggle, but when she glanced up at Edward’s face she started again. He looked-Daphne wasn’t even quite sure how to describe his expression; she’d never seen anything quite like it before –haunted, she supposed was the best way to describe it.

  “Edward? What is it? What’s wrong?” Daphne asked nervously.

  “The thunder,” he mumbled, “I thought-” but then he shook his head firmly and seemed to come back to normal a little.

  Daphne suddenly recalled what he had said before about thunder reminding him of cannon fire. She had tried never to think of Edward in battle. It had been too hard, too painful, and yet she hadn’t been able to stop herself from following the military campaign with a sort of morbid fascination. “It reminds you of-” she began to ask, but Edward cut her short sharply.

  “You’ll have to come back to the house now,” he said, looking with a kind of grim satisfaction out on the rain that was now pouring down outside.

  Daphne sighed, but she nodded. At least the rain would be able to conceal their already disheveled appearances. She watched as Edward pulled on his shirt, his waistcoat, and pocketed his tie, before he turned to her again. His eyes still looked terribly bleak, she noticed with a pang.

  “Come on then,” he said reaching for her hand. Daphne hesitated, but only for a second. Edward’s strong fingers wrapped around her much more delicate wrist as he tugged her out of the orangery and into the summer storm.

  The rain was refreshing, but they had barely taken a few steps before they were both absolutely soaked to the skin. Daphne heard Edward mutter a curse as he hurried her along, dragging his wife behind him as they made a dash towards the house.

  Fortunately, Packwood House wasn’t very far away, and even more fortunately, as far as Daphne was concerned at any rate, Edward led her through one of the house’s side door, avoiding the need to deal with the servants, at least for the time being.

  They stopped and caught their breath in a cozy little sitting room that Daphne remembered from her childhood. It was lit at intervals by brilliant bursts of lightning that tore across the dark sky outside. Each one of these dazzling flashes was followed by a rumble of thunder so loud and close that the walls of the house themselves seemed to shake.

  Daphne looked to Edward, unnerved by his stiff posture. It was as if he wasn’t there with her, but locked i
n some faraway memory from which she was excluded. The silence between them was growing unbearable, so Daphne found herself mumbling quietly: “I’m sorry to drip all over your floor.”

  Edward blinked and looked at her, and then at the puddles that they were both leaving on the polished wood. “It’s not my floor. It’s our floor,” he corrected her, clearly making an effort to fight away his demons. Daphne felt a little thrill at his words, but she lost him again with the next flash of lightning.

  “Is it truly so bad?” she whispered, taking a step towards Edward and laying her hand on his arm.

  “What do you mean?” he frowned.

  “Whatever you’re remembering? It is really so bad?” she pressed gently.

  Edward raised his eyes to hers, tearing them away from watching her fingers flexing on his shirtsleeve. “You have no idea,” he breathed hoarsely, sending a shiver skating down his wife’s spine.

  And she didn’t, Daphne realized, Edward’s voice wasn’t harsh or condemning, he didn’t seem to be angry with her for reaching out to him. He was just stating the simple truth - which was that his wife couldn’t even begin to comprehend the horrors that he had experienced.

  “No,” she said softly. “I don’t.” She gave his arm a gentle squeeze. “But you can still talk to me about it. If you want to that is.”

  “Talk?” Edward echoed his wife, puzzling over the word as if its meaning were completely alien to him. “I-I don’t think so,” he sighed, shaking his head and shuddering.

  Daphne gave her head a sad little nod, but she didn’t let go of Edward’s arm. “Well, if you change your mind I’ll always be here,” she said softly.

  “Will you?” Edward’s lips quirked upward just a fraction. “So does that mean you’re staying?”

  “I-I didn’t mean-I just meant-”

  “That you’re leaving me too?” he asked, his voice raw and hollow.