by Darcy Burke
She cleared her throat. “Now you’ve forgotten about the kissing.”
He twined his hand in her hair and looked down into the stirring blue of her eyes. “I did not. I’m thinking about how I want to kiss you now. Or better yet…where.”
Her eyes slitted, and she tugged his head down to hers. Their mouths met, open and greedy as their bodies pressed into each other. She rose up, her pelvis seeking. He brushed his hand down her side and clutched her hip as he pushed himself between her thighs. She opened for him, and he thrust up against her core so that she could feel him right where she wanted him.
She moaned into his mouth, and her grip on his neck tightened. He ended the kiss with a gentle tug on her lower lip before descending lower. He dragged his tongue along her throat and found her breast once more. This time, she arched off the bed and held him fast against her.
“Ned. Is this the improper part yet?”
He smiled against her breast. “We’re just getting started. Just remember that if we don’t get to everything tonight—and we won’t—we have plenty of opportunity for impropriety the rest of our lives.”
“Oh. Yes, please. Could you, um, do what you were doing a moment ago? Between my legs…”
He rotated his hips and pressed his cock against her heat. She met him, opening her thighs to receive him.
“Yes, that. Please. That.”
He pulled on her nipple as he thrust between her thighs. She met each pulse, lifting her hips from the bed and driving him to the brink of coherent thought.
“When are we going to remove our clothes?”
Her innocent and very appropriate question broke through his sexual haze. “I was distracted,” he muttered, suddenly desperate to feel her naked against him. He tugged at the neck of her night rail and drew the garment down her belly, exposing a beautiful, creamy expanse of flesh that he longed to explore. He just wasn’t sure he had the patience for that tonight.
He pulled the garment lower, over her hips and past her thighs, then stripped it from her legs and cast it aside. The temptation of her sex beckoned him, but her hands pulled at his banyan. With a flick of his wrist, he untied the sash around his waist, and the robe gaped open.
She came up off the bed and knelt before him to push the garment from his shoulders. It pooled around his wrists, but she tugged the silk and thrust it away.
She splayed her hands, palms down, on his chest, skimming over his flesh as she explored him. Her fingertips found one of his nipples, and she tweaked it lightly. “Does this feel the same for you?”
“I can’t say for certain. It feels good, but I don’t feel it in my—” He’d been about to say cock, but censored himself. “Down there,” he finished.
“I see.” She lowered her hand, drawing her finger down his stomach until she reached his groin. “You mean, here?” she asked, echoing his earlier question. She curled her hand around his shaft, and he moaned.
“Aquilla.”
“Is this improper?”
“Not for me. It’s the most proper thing ever. But yes, probably improper as far as most people are concerned. It would be more improper if you stroked it.” He put his hand over hers and showed her how to caress him from base to tip. “Yes, just like that.” He closed his eyes and lost himself in her touch.
“I’m confused. Is improper good or bad?”
“Anything you do to me is good. So very, very good.” He couldn’t stand much more without finishing himself in her hand.
He pushed her back onto the mattress and came over her, settling himself between her thighs.
“I know what happens next,” she said, breathless. “I think.”
“What do you want to happen next?” He was trying so hard to go slowly and to make this first time exceptional for her.
“I want what Lucy was talking about. Ecstasy, she said.”
He slid to the left and brought his hand to the apex at her thighs. He was fairly certain she was ready and when he touched her, found that she was hot and wet. Beyond ready. Best to make sure, he told himself. So he slipped a finger into her folds. God, so wet.
She clutched at his shoulders as she bucked off the bed. “Dear Lord! Ned!”
He withdrew and rubbed his finger over her clitoris. She gasped sharply. “Again. Please.”
He thrust into her and used his thumb to press on her flesh. She moved with him, moaning in a dark, splendorous rhythm that stoked his desire. Her muscles tightened, gripping his finger, and he knew she was close. He pumped faster and increased the pressure of his thumb. She cried out, and he kissed her hard and deep.
He stayed with her, stroking, until she slowed and settled back into the mattress, breaking the kiss. He withdrew his finger but smoothed his hand over her heated flesh. Her breath came in rapid, thoroughly sensual pants.
She looked up at him, her eyes dusky, her mouth tipped into a satisfied curl. “That was lovely, but I know we aren’t finished.”
If he’d had any doubt about his choice of wife, it completely vanished. “No, we are not.”
She reached up and tugged at his nape. “Good. Let’s make this really improper.”
Chapter Eleven
Watching Ned’s eyes turn from storm-cloud gray to liquid silver was perhaps the best thing Aquilla had ever seen. She knew she was being a tad ridiculous, talking so much during what was supposed to be a serious occasion, but she couldn’t help herself. From a very young age, she’d talked to ease the tension in a room. It had taken years for her to understand what that tension was from, but by then it was too late.
She supposed that was what she was doing tonight—easing the tension. Still, she worried it was annoying. Although he didn’t seem annoyed. No, he seemed to be enjoying himself, particularly when she touched his cock. That word nearly made her giggle. That was what Lucy had called it, and yes, they’d giggled about it. She would blame Lucy, then.
“You have an odd look on your face,” Ned remarked.
She realized she’d been caught woolgathering, which was perhaps her second-greatest fault after the chattering. “I was just hoping that I’m not irritating you with my conversation.”
“On the contrary,” he said, sweeping down to tug at her lip with his teeth. A delicious shiver raced up her spine, and where she’d felt utterly replete a moment ago, she was now eager for more. She began to understand what Lucy had meant when she’d said that she might feel insatiable.
“Do you know,” he drawled between kisses, “I find your mouth utterly enticing,” more kissing, “no matter what it’s doing.” More kissing. “Talking, kissing…whatever else.”
She thought of everything Lucy had told her and wondered if he was referring to her putting her mouth on his cock. Would he like that? Lucy said that her husband did. So much.
The tip of his cock nudged at her sex, which still felt warm and tingly from what she’d just experienced. An “orgasm,” Lucy had said. Aquilla was grateful she had a friend to educate her, but had to admit the actual practice was far better.
She reached down between them and found the tip of his shaft. It was surprisingly wet. “Is this moisture from me?” she asked.
He’d left her mouth and started licking at the edge of her ear before snagging his teeth on her lobe. A shiver raced up her neck. “Perhaps, but it’s likely mine. Do you know what happens next?”
“Yes, you put your cock inside me.”
He jerked back and looked at her. “Why am I surprised? I shouldn’t be.”
She flashed him a smile. “Probably not.”
“You are unparalleled, and I am so lucky.” He kissed her mouth again and then trailed his lips to her breast.
Oh, how she loved his mouth on her breast, particularly when he drew on her nipple—she gasped—just like that.
His fingers stroked her, and the hunger he’d just sated stirred anew. She’d enjoyed what she’d just experienced but somehow knew there was more to come, and not just because Lucy had told her. She suspected it might be
something even better.
He situated his shaft at her entrance. “I, ah, don’t have experience with virgins, I must admit.”
“Me neither.”
He grinned. “Incomparable.” He looked into her eyes. “Hold on, and please, tell me if you want me to stop.”
He started to push into her, his cock stretching her flesh to accommodate his girth. It felt quite different than his finger had. Not bad but not necessarily good. At least not yet. “Could you stop?” she asked, thinking that would be a disappointment for him.
“Damn. Yes.” His voice sounded strained, as if he were having a splinter removed from his thumb. He paused, half inside her, or so she surmised. “Do you want me to?”
She shook her head. “Are you in yet?”
He exhaled, and she heard his relief. “Not quite.” He slid in farther, and his finger grazed her clitoris—the spot he’d pressed on earlier that had caused quite spectacular sensations.
She moaned, wanting him to touch her like that again. “Ned, could you do that again?”
He stroked it with more intention this time, swirling his thumb over her. Something broke apart within her and she relaxed, letting her legs fall open.
He slipped all the way in, filling her. “There. Now I’m in.” He stroked the curls away from her temple. “Are you all right?”
“It feels…strange. But good. I think.”
“Perhaps this will feel better.” He withdrew, not quite all the way, and then pushed forward once more. This second intrusion was much better—and faster, but still slow. He slid deep, and again something twitched. What had felt good before, now felt really good.
“Do that again,” she said.
He did as she requested, pulling out and pushing back in. “The friction of it,” she said, her voice sounding unfamiliar to her own ears. “It’s divine. Again. Faster maybe. Deeper.”
“May I suggest an adjustment?” he asked. At her nod, he continued. She saw the fine droplets of sweat on his forehead and the strain of the veins in his throat. He was working very hard to keep his control. She suddenly wanted him to lose it.
“Yes, anything.” She wanted to push him over the edge, and she’d do whatever it took.
He gripped her hips and slid his hands down her thighs to lift her legs so that they encircled his waist. “If you bend your legs a bit, I can go deeper.” He ended on a groan as he slid in farther than he had yet.
“Oh yes, I see what you mean.” She clasped his waist and curled her legs around him.
He drove into her then, flooding her core with pleasure that fanned out over her body. She cupped the back of his neck and pulled him down to kiss her. He met her mouth with a fierce passion that matched her own. Their tongues clashed as he pumped in and out of her. She’d wanted him to lose control, but feared she would be too far gone to notice.
Anticipation built, whipping her desire into a near frenzy. She broke the kiss as she sought air to fill her lungs.
He moved faster, creating more friction, and the pressure in her core reached its limit. She broke into pieces and only hoped she’d be able to find them all later. Or not. She didn’t care just now. She never wanted this ecstasy to end.
He continued to thrust, and each one only increased her pleasure. Then he shouted her name and buried himself deep, his lips latching on to hers. She kissed him, knowing that he had lost himself. And it was just the first of many encounters.
She could hardly wait.
He slowed, then came to a stop. She stroked her fingers through his hair and pressed kisses along his lips and his jaw as he drew breath after breath to calm his racing heart—she could feel him against her chest.
After a moment, he kissed her swiftly, his lips lingering against hers. But then he was gone, rolling to his side and off the bed.
He returned quickly with a cloth. “This can be a bit messy.”
She sat up and took the cloth from him to tidy herself. “Yes, I heard about that too. Worth it, however, if you ask me.”
He laughed and kissed her again. “You have far exceeded my expectation, my lady.”
My lady.
Yes, she was a countess now. His countess. She liked the sound of that.
He left again, and she finished her ministrations When he returned, he took the cloth from her wordlessly and disposed of it somewhere. On his next return, he handed her the night rail he’d stripped from her earlier.
She took it from him but stared at his bare chest. He was magnificent. Next time, she would spend more time exploring—and appreciating.
“Are you putting your robe back on?” she asked.
“I wasn’t going to,” he said slowly. “I thought you might want to don your gown to return to your room.”
Oh. Lucy had told her that she and Dartford slept in the same bed. That wasn’t the norm, at least Aquilla didn’t think that it was, but now that she was here, she found she didn’t want to leave. Not tonight anyway.
She held the night rail to her chest. “Do you want me to leave?”
He blinked, his expression one of surprise. “I…no. Not if you don’t want to.”
“I’d prefer to stay. And since you aren’t putting on your robe, I won’t wear my gown.” She dropped it over the side of the bed.
He drew in a sharp breath. “You are a singular woman, Aquilla.” He crawled over her, pressing her back into the mattress. “And you’re mine.” The words came out as a growl, and they heated her, stoking her desire anew.
“Are we going to do that again?” she asked hopefully.
He exhaled, and she heard a tone of regret in the sound. “Not right now. I don’t want you to be overly sore. This is new for your body.”
“But not yours.” It was a half question, and she knew the answer.
“No, but I’ll admit I’m a bit rusty.” He arched a brow at her and gave her a sly smile.
“Oh good.” She kissed him, and they lost themselves to each other for several minutes.
He rolled to his side and gathered her against him. “We should sleep.”
She yawned, realizing she was exhausted. But then, it had been a long day. It was hard to believe that just a day ago, she’d been simple Miss Aquilla Knox. And now she was the Countess of Sutton. And the Duchess of Deception. She laughed softly.
“What is it?” he whispered.
“I was just thinking how strange this is—how quickly this all progressed.”
“And I was just thinking how lucky I am.”
She smiled to herself and fell asleep before the smile could fade from her lips.
Muffled noises roused her sometime later. She rolled over and found nothing but a cold bed. Blinking, she sat up. The light from the fire wasn’t much, but it was enough for her to make out the shape of her husband seated on the bench at the end of the bed.
“What are you doing?” Her voice came out as a croak.
The shadowy shape stood and circled around the bed. “I need to leave,” he said softly. “It’s very early—not even light yet.”
“Where are you going?”
“I need to go to Sutton Park.”
“Why? I’ll go with you.” She pushed the coverlet away and started to rise, belatedly realizing she was nude. She shrugged, supposing it didn’t matter. He’d seen all of her.
“No, you sleep. I’ll be back tonight. I promise.” He kissed her and twisted one of her curls around his finger. He smiled as he pulled away, and her heart turned over. “Sleep well.”
She watched him go and then fell back against the bed, pulling the coverlet up to her chin. She snuggled down, eager to reclaim sleep.
But her mind had other ideas. Instead of sleeping, she thought back over the wedding ceremony and the breakfast. Which led her to think of her father and her mother. Which led her to think of her mother’s warnings. Had her wedding night been like this? When had Father turned on her, showing her his true nature? They’d never discussed the specifics, and indeed, she might’ve kept everything se
cret from Aquilla if Aquilla hadn’t witnessed him hitting her three years ago.
Mother had always cautioned Aquilla never to fall in love with her husband and to keep her distance whenever possible. After that, Aquilla had understood why. But now that she’d married Ned, she wasn’t sure she needed to heed that advice. Except… Did she really know him that well? One night of bliss didn’t mean she knew him.
She remembered their conversation on the terrace earlier. He’d said that someday they’d share everything and had included himself in that statement. It could mean he had secrets, or it could mean he was stating the obvious: that they didn’t know each other well but would come to.
She yawned as sleep finally began to steal over her. As she drifted off, she recalled that he hadn’t answered her question. He hadn’t told her why he was going to Sutton Park.
The shadows of the copse surrounded Ned as his worry began to mount. George had somehow gotten out of the house sometime in the night and, hours later, they still couldn’t find him.
Every available retainer, along with Ned and Dr. Paget, was scouring the property, but Sutton Park had over two hundred acres, some of it wooded and some of it hilly. Ned had taken part of the forest and hoped someone else had found him.
Suddenly, a distant memory flitted into his mind. A vision of George climbing a tree—to reach Ned.
Ned took off running. It took him several minutes, but he finally caught sight of the large oak tree. He didn’t slow until he’d reached the trunk. Gulping air, he looked up and saw George, his legs dangling from a branch.
George laughed. “Finally! I didn’t think you were ever going to find me.”
The fear Ned had felt gave way to anger, but he quickly packed that away and gave in to relief. “Is this a game?”
“Yes, it’s your turn to hide.” George started to climb down.
