Christin's Splendid Spinster's Society (The Spinster’s Society) (A Regency Romance Book)

by Charlotte Stone

  He slipped his hands past the outer garment and squeezed her breast through her chemise.

  Christin’s head flew back, and she pressed her lips together to keep from crying out.

  He fondled her breast and then the other. Her nipples pressed against his palms, and her body ached for more. She'd never been groped like this, not by John. She wanted to rip her own chemise away and have his bare hand on her. She was a scandalous woman. She now knew the truth. She wanted more.

  Aaron’s voice deepened as his hands became bolder, playing directly with her nipples, pinching and pulling. “Christin, you’ve woken something inside of me. I can barely control myself around you. I’m no longer the man I was before we met.” His hand slipped into her chemise and touched her bare skin as his lips settled over her throat. “I can’t be him again. You have to be mine.” Then his mouth lowered. The chemise was pushed aside, and he brought one pink nipple to his lips, sucking on her while he stared into her eyes.

  Christin bit her lip. One hand held onto the bench while the other bit into his thigh.

  The kiss he gave her body was much like the gentle kiss they’d shared that first day, slow and luring. His tongue swirled. His teeth bit.

  She moaned as he moved onto the next one, continuing to use his hand to torment the other. She couldn’t believe what she was doing, what she was letting him do to her. He spoke of being a different man, but she was certainly a different woman. The sun was still up, and they were in the garden where any servant could come upon them.

  Yet all she could think about was wanting more.

  She wanted his mouth everywhere, and she wanted him inside of her.

  Her moans grew, and he broke away.

  Aaron covered her mouth with his own. “I feel as though I have waited my entire life for you,” he whispered. “I don’t want to wait any longer.”

  “Yes,” she replied against his lips. She felt the same. She’d been waiting for him and didn’t want to wait any longer. Her heart whispered that he was the one and probably had been doing so since the moment they’d met. She could no longer deny it.

  She was in love with Aaron, this wildly untamed gentleman who could kiss her senses away.

  Was currently doing it.

  While continuing the kiss, he quickly fixed her chemise and buttoned her dress before helping her stand.

  Christin didn’t ask where he was taking her when they started in the direction away from the house. They were going to the cottage.

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  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

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  Upon entering the small building, Christin was amazed by what she saw.

  There was a bed, as she’d expected, but nothing was of the quality of his house. Instead, the entire cottage was rustic with a small bed with woolen sheets and a fur blanket. There was a small fireplace, table, and chair in the corner.

  But one of the walls did stand out. There were shelves lined with more metal sculptures. She walked over to them and found an assortment of birds, deer, wolves, iron boxing mufflers, and a beautiful dancer. The ballerina seemed to have been caught during a toss in the air. Her arms lay behind her while her toes were pointed in a position that made Christin sure she would have landed beautifully were she alive.

  “She’s for Lily for her birthday?”

  He turned and found that he’d already started the fire and removed his jacket and cravat. His fingers were working the buttons of his shirt, and Christin had to tell her mind to keep breathing as she watched him.

  His boots and stockings had also been removed, leaving his feet bare.

  He finally shrugged out of his shirt, and Christin gave up entirely on breathing. She decided to take back her thoughts of him not being a god. Every ridge and detail of his body seemed to be crafted for intimidation and war. Perhaps there was Viking in his blood.

  He walked over to her and touched her shoulders. “I’ll take you back to the house, if you’d prefer.”

  A sensible woman would have taken him up on his offer, but she’d lost all sensibilities behind the tree when he’d touched her. She wanted to know what it would be like to make love to a man she felt everything for.

  “I want to stay.”

  He smiled and then moved a hand to the back of her neck and pulled her in.

  The kiss was again sweeter than she’d have thought Aaron capable of, but not as gentle as the others. He wasted no time climbing her tongue and rebuilding the heat in her body.

  He used his other hand to undo her dress and his mouth moved to her throat before she could completely slide away.

  Christin placed her hands on his shoulder, finding his skin warm and smooth. She rubbed against every muscle she could reach in his arms and back.

  Her dress hit the floor, and his hands undid her corset as his teeth bit her nipples through her chemise.

  Christin’s breath hitched and he stepped away with her corset gone.

  She looked into his eyes and shivered at the raw wanting she found there.

  “Take that off,” he told her.

  She looked down at herself and took in her translucent chemise, stockings, underpants, and garter. Then she looked at him. “What should I remove?”

  “All of it.” His hands were at his hips and then with grace and ease, he removed his breeches and smallclothes. When he straightened, she saw no shame in his gaze or posture as he stood before her. His erection stuck upward from his body like the arm from the statue in his office, long and thick. Below it were the finest pair of thighs she’d ever seen.

  She reached out a hand and stopped trembling fingers just inches from the head of his cock. “I’ve never seen…” She stopped speaking as she realized what she’d been about to say.

  “You’ve never seen a naked man before,” he finished.

  She shook her head and looked up at his eyes. “Neither has a man seen me.”

  His eyes flashed, but he controlled his features a second later.

  She looked down at his body again but covered her chest over her chemise. She knew what he was thinking. For a woman who’d been married once, she should also have been more experienced where the acts of men and women were concerned.

  He touched her face and lifted her chin. “I’ll be honored to be the first.” He graced her with a kiss before adding, “And the last.”

  She smiled and returned the kiss as his hands moved to her chemise. She was forced to lift her hands away from herself when he pulled the garment over her head.

  Air hit her back, but his hot mouth took to her chest again.

  “I’m obsessed with these.” He slid his rough tongue against her nipple and then the other. Christin placed her hands at the back of his head and arched her back, allowing herself to give in to his new craving as she gave in to her own. Need was pounding at her womanhood, and she felt moisture slide down her leg.

  His hands moved to the undergarments and undid their ribbon before sliding them down her hips. His mouth trailed down her stomach and his fingers moved to her legs. He groaned, and his breath brushed the patch between her legs.

  “Step out of these.” His voice was strange and dark to her ears.

  Christin didn’t know how her limbs managed to move, but they did. She looked down just as Aaron grabbed her hips and leaned into the dark triangle of curls.

  She released a mewling sound as he kissed her there.

  “Open your legs,” he commanded.

  She obeyed, spreading them as best she could.

  He placed another kiss to her center and then his fingers were there, spreading her open, baring him to his eyes and then his hot mouth.

  Christin had been told about the pleasures of this act, but she’d not been prepared for just how delightful it truly was. It was better than anything she’d ever felt in her life. Better than any food her tongue had tas
ted. God, she was willing to trade ever tasting food again for this simple blissful act. No moment of happiness in her past compared to the flood of pain and pleasure that warred within her.

  She locked her fingers in Aaron’s hair just as he moved between her legs and forced one of her legs over his shoulder.

  The thrilling agony built until she was screaming her way through her first release.

  Her body began to fall, but Aaron was there to cradle her and moved her to the bed.

  He sat on its edge with one of her legs draped over his lap while the other lay behind his body. Still in her stockings, garter, and slippers, she was spread open to him. The cool air and his gaze now touched her most intimate flesh. She knew it was an unladylike position to be in, but she was too exhausted to do anything about it.

  She felt drained in the most satisfying way.

  She looked into his eyes and their gazes caught. She was sure she resembled a grinning cat at the moment and felt slightly animalistic. Her skin was sensitive everywhere. She felt every hair of the fur blanket at her back.

  But her head felt heavy.

  Leaning up, she undid the pins in her hair and set them on the floor before shaking loose her curls, feeling better in seconds.

  “Bloody hell, you’re beautiful,” Aaron whispered.

  She smiled at him again and then sat up as he removed her slippers and stockings, turning to do the same to her other leg. The silence was sweet and precious.

  When she was fully undressed, he turned back around and massaged the leg on his lap. Everywhere he touched seemed to be linked to her sex, because the ache grew once more.

  Her eyes caught his erection and was surprised to find its head wet.

  “Did you already come?” she asked.

  “No.” He grabbed his cock as though it were the most natural thing to do. She’d never seen anything more beautiful than his fist around himself. Her body responded to the sight.

  “This happens so that it’s easier to enter your body,” he finished.

  She looked down between her legs before meeting his eyes. “I think I’m wet enough.”

  His eyes closed, and every muscle in his body seemed to tighten, including his fist. More of his seed leaked out, and a drop slipped down to get caught on his thumb. “I may come just yet if you continue to speak that way.”

  She straightened. “No, don’t come yet. I want you inside of me.”

  “Fuck.” He released himself and turned to her then. His body loomed over her, and she leaned away until her head hit the pillow. His gaze was nearly ominous and still Christin wanted everything he was willing to give.

  Her legs went to the sides, and he settled between them. He leaned up on an elbow at her side while his other hand directed his cock at her folds. He rubbed her cunt’s lips gently apart and then their gazes caught.

  Christin had time to pull in a breath before he entered her with one strong thrust.

  He shook once he was seated deep and then took her mouth before pulling out and spearing into her again and then again, filling her to overflowing, feeding his heavy cock to her body’s greed with endless precision. “Christin.” Her name trembled from his lips. “I can’t be gentle. Not this time.”

  She grabbed his shoulder and wrapped her legs around him. “Don’t be, please.”

  And then the peace shattered as their lovemaking became violent and desperate.

  Christin lifted her hips and threw her head back. Her moans mixed with bold pleas as he rode her with a fury that left her gasping and weeping with disbelief. It was too good. So right. She almost feared that it would end there. That it wouldn’t be enough. That she’d not get to where her body wished to go, forever in a limbo of wild yearning.

  “Please, Aaron.” Her body felt as though it were crawling out of itself, wild with a hunger for something just out of reach.

  He lifted her hip and leaned forward, rubbing his cock deeper inside of her, rubbing her nub and then he was thrusting into her again with long powerful moves that kicked her into the place she’d always dreamed to go, a boundless height of completion that took over her being and left her with nothing.

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  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

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  Christin opened her eyes and fixed her gaze on the bare wall in front of her. She used her other senses to orient her mind. There was the smell of fur and the warmth of a hot body behind hers with a strong arm draped over her middle. She looked over her shoulder to find Aaron’s eyes open and the rest of the cottage in the low light of the fireplace. The window showed that the sun was falling quickly. She didn’t recall having gone to sleep.

  She looked at Aaron again.

  She’d never woken up next to a man before and wasn’t sure how she felt about it. She was aware of her nudity underneath the blanket and of his own and even considering the very things they’d done however long ago, she was still slightly uncomfortable. She moved in an effort to turn over, and her aching muscles protested the move. Once completed, she settled down and Aaron pulled her closer.

  Even embarrassed, she admitted that she liked him holding her.

  “Did we…?” She cleared her voice and tried again. “Did we fall asleep?”

  He smiled. “No. You… fainted.”

  Her eye widened. “Fainted? I don’t faint.”

  “You did an hour ago,” he told her.

  “From what?” she asked.

  His grinned immodestly. “From my cock.”

  “What?” she gasped, tightening the blanket to her chest as she tried to sit up.

  He kept her down and then leaned over her, chuckling. “You came and then you fainted.”

  She stilled, unsure if she should believe his story. “Does that actually happen?”

  “It actually happened to you,” he said with a wide smile.

  Christin hadn’t known that was possible and then another thought hit her. “Did you…?”

  “Oh, yes,” he told her, his smile slowly fading as his gaze became serious. “It was the most intense completion of my life.”

  Her body stirred with sensual hunger at those words, but she looked away before he could see it in her eyes. She didn’t want him to think her wanton. At least, not any more than she already was.

  But she did have some other questions.

  “Did I frighten you when I fainted?”

  “For a moment,” he confessed. “But then I saw you were still breathing—which by the way could be the reason you fainted to begin with—and knew you were all right.”

  She looked at him. “My breathing?”

  He was smiling again. “You have to keep breathing, darling. You probably stopped when you got close to completion. Men faint that way when the air to their head is cut off during a fight.”

  She supposed that made sense and then searched the room for another topic to reference. Her eyes caught the statues again. “Who made them?”

  “I did,” he told her.

  She was not surprised at all by that. She smiled at him. “And I suppose you used your bare hands to bend the iron to your will?”

  He laughed and straightened, pulling her from the bed and depositing both her and the blanket into his lap. “I did it the usual way one would forge metal. That’s actually why I brought you to the cottage. I have a forge in the back.”

  She had no complaints to make.

  “Though,” he went on with a grin, “I’m glad you think me strong enough to break and bend iron.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Who taught you this skill?”

  “I learned to forge iron from the vicar.”

  “Your vicar was a blacksmith?” She settled further into his embrace, enjoying each second of his attention.

  His fingers moved against one of her exposed shoulders. “No, his father had been a blacksmith, but he attended school
and then started working at the church. He had a very high attendance from the students at Oxford. He was well-liked. I owe him much for coming to me when he did.”

  She touched his cheek. His jaw was rough from the shadow of hair that was growing in. “You mentioned you didn’t like fighting at first. Why did you do it then?”

  He kissed her palm. “It’s a Welsh tradition for the boys to fight. I was training to tear men apart before I could walk.”

  “That sounds horrible.”

  He shrugged. “It was the way of my fathers and their fathers before them.”

  Christin sat up more to stare at him. “And your mother allowed this?”

  “My mother had no choice,” he told her. “And honestly, I’m surprised she didn’t leave long before she actually did. There was a time when I thought…”

  “What?” she pressed.

  He shrugged again, his blue eyes void of emotion. “I thought she favored me. Many mothers do where second sons are concerned. While first sons are their father’s, I was my mother’s. But then my brother died, and she left. My father fell ill months later, and I was alone.”

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. Her eyes stung with tears.

  He grabbed her cheek and held her gaze. “Don’t you dare cry for me.”

  “It’s very sad, Aaron.”

  He kissed her lips. “But that boy is now a man, and he is currently very far from being sad.”