Earl of Oakhurst

by Madeline Martin

  He leaned closer to her sex and parted his lips, but it was far too late to stop him as he looked up at her and licked her center. Any mortification she might have felt was singed away by the intensity of the euphoria as his tongue circled the sensitive bud of her sex. He lapped at her with vigor and she shamelessly spread her legs wide to welcome his ministrations.

  Her body was alighting with need, for this. For him.

  MacKenzie could sense when Penelope was nearing climax from the hitch of her breath and the tightening of her core. Not yet. Not now. He drifted away from her despite her whimper of protest. God, how he wanted her to whimper like that every time he drew away from her.

  He stretched over her, loving the sensation of her beneath him. She was lithe, but not without curves. He trailed his hand down her narrow waist to where her hips flared out and cupped her bottom. This was the part he was anticipating as much as dreading.

  It was one thing to pleasure a woman. It was quite another to take her maidenhead. Or so he’d heard. It was why he’d held off on giving her relief for so long, in the hopes she might be distracted enough with desire to not feel as much of the initial discomfort.

  He edged himself between her legs, careful to keep his weight elevated off of her. Good God, he was so hard with lust, it actually pained him.

  Penelope watched him through heavy lidded eyes. A flush covered her cheeks, neck and lovely chest. Exactly as James had anticipated it would. It left her lips and skin rosy, as well as her nipples. He caught one between his lips for good measure and swirled it with his tongue.

  She cried out in delight and he angled his cock toward her entrance. She was wet, glistening with the effects of her longing.

  He’d made certain of that. Wet and hot and beyond ready. His prick ached to thrust into the root inside her, to stroke himself to completion.

  He replaced his mouth with his hand on her breast and kissed her as he gently nudged inside her until he felt the slight resistance of a barrier. She moaned against his lips and arched her hips to encourage his entry. He swept his thumb over her nipple and pushed into her more.

  Her eyes went wide.

  He tensed, freezing over her. “Are ye all right?”

  She nodded. “It was my hymen,” she said tightly. “I knew it would happen.”

  “I think it will feel better as we go,” MacKenzie offered, however helpful or unhelpful his words were.

  She nodded.

  He proceeded, one cautious inch at a time as he withdrew and entered her once more, this time slightly deeper than the last. He released her breast and moved his fingers between them, finding the little nub where a woman’s pleasure centered, and rubbed it with small circles.

  Her breath caught again, and she relaxed under him. Devil take it, she felt good. Damn good. Tight and sweet where she gripped him inside her as he stroked into her, taking her in slow, careful thrusts.

  “Is that better?” he asked.

  Her lashes fluttered and she nodded with a breathy exhale. Her hands roamed over his back as she held him more tightly, melding her body closer to his. Her hips rolled in time with his, encouraging his pace, getting him to pump harder, quicker.

  Each arch on her part made her core clench around him, bringing on a tightening of his bollocks. Her panting came at a higher pitch and her sex tensed.

  He flicked his finger faster over her bud, knowing how close she was to climax, and sending her over the edge. She came hard with a scream she buried into his shoulder.

  Her core squeezed rhythmically around him, taking him with her into a powerful orgasm. He withdrew quickly from her, took his cock in fist, and pumped it hard thrice before spilling his seed into his other hand.

  Penelope opened her eyes and looked up at him with understanding. There would be no child conceived from their joining.

  “Thank you,” she said softly.

  He climbed from the bed and went to the ewer. “There used to be a plant in ancient Greece called silphium that prevented a woman from conceiving,” he offered as he cleaned himself. “Except that it was in such high demand, they extinguished the plant from existence.” He wet a bit of linen and carried it back to the bed for her.

  She took it shyly with another word of thanks and wiped her virgin’s blood from between her thighs.

  “I hope that wasna too uncomfortable.” He rubbed at a tense spot at the back of his neck.

  She bit her lip and shook her head. “Only in the beginning. I was expecting it.”

  “The next time willna be painful, as I understand it.” He took the cloth from her. “Would you like me to fetch ye a clean chemise?”

  She smiled. “Please.”

  He went to the wardrobe, opened the wooden doors and reached in to grab a white linen shift. Except it was no ordinary shift that unfolded from his hands. The thing was made of wispy white lace, so delicate a man would be able to see straight through it. With so many holes, he could lick…

  “What is that?” Penelope asked, her mouth falling open in apparent horror.

  “I was about to ask ye that verra question.” MacKenzie adjusted his grip to hold it up fully for his perusal. Yes, her pink nipples would be evident through the material, as would the red downy curls between her legs. She would be glorious in such a gown, with her fiery hair spilling over her shoulders.

  “That isn’t mine,” she gasped.

  “Is it no’?” He didn’t lower it. “It appears to be exactly yer size.”

  “It’s nothing I’ve ever seen before.”

  “That makes two of us.” He held it out with a grin. “Ye should try it on to make certain.”

  She shook her head and the flush at her cheeks deepened. He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, not after what they’d just shared—especially when he hoped they would do it again in the future. He carefully folded the gown—if such a thing could be called a gown—and retrieved a chemise of linen from her wardrobe.

  She climbed out of bed, beautifully naked, and pulled it on. It was a pity seeing a lovely body of creamy skin and firm breasts fall beneath a blanket of cloth in such a manner. He slid into her bed and waited for her. It was a foolish idea to consider sleeping the night with her, he knew. But it felt so strange to take a woman’s virginity and then promptly leave once pleasure had been sated. She was not a lady of the night; she was his wife.

  She regarded him curiously but joined him beneath the covers regardless. She shifted slightly and set her icy toes against him. Lucky for her, MacKenzie was often overwarm and always looking for a reprieve from his own internal heat.

  “Ye’re freezing.” He caught her and pulled her against him.

  Her chilled limbs settled against him, pleasantly cooling his body.

  “That isn’t—” She sighed with apparent contentment. “That does feel quite nice. I don’t want to make you cold.”

  “I’m no’ ever cold.” He secured an arm around her shoulder and she cuddled against him.

  “And I’m seldom ever hot.” Her head shifted on his shoulder so she could look at him. “What brought about your fascination with history?”

  “My da.” MacKenzie smiled to himself. “We lived in Scotland until I was around ten, then we came back to England. In that time, I’d picked up this accent that’s so popular with the ton.” He paused to give an exaggerated smirk. “I dinna get on well with my classmates. Or rather, they dinna get on well with me.”

  “There’s more to life than being accepted by society,” Penelope said with a hint of bitterness.

  “Tell that to my younger self.” MacKenzie looped a lock Penelope’s hair around his finger. “My da saw how miserable I was and showed me all the fascinating things my history teachers had left out.”

  “Why did you leave Scotland?” she asked.

  He paused before answering, hating how raw the reply still was after all these years. “Death,” he said simply. “My ma died when I was ten. It’s why we left her home country to return to where my da had been rais
ed.”

  “And why did you then leave England later?”

  He hesitated. “Yer full of questions.”

  She smiled. “I’m a curious woman.”

  “Aye.” He traced a fingertip over her naked shoulder. “I like that about ye.”

  She watched him with expectation, clearly waiting on an answer.

  “I told ye I dinna want to marry Lady Judith,” he said.

  She nodded.

  “I foolishly thought I cared for her, but as soon as my uncle died and my cousin went from heir apparent to earl, she announced her engagement to him.” He scoffed. “Which meant I was heir presumptive. Every woman in England suddenly no longer cared if I spoke with a Scottish brogue and flocked to me like I was the most fascinating bit of man they’d ever seen.” He frowned at the memory. “I wanted to be done with England, with the whole lot of it.”

  “James, I’m so sorry.” She put her hand on his chest as though she could absorb the hurt from his heart with it.

  “I’m no’,” he replied. “My life would have been far worse if I’d married Lady Judith. Ye saved me from that fate.” He caressed Penelope’s soft cheek.

  “And how did you become a valet for Lord Benton?” She raised her brows.

  He cast her a chagrined look. “Ye’ve heard, then.”

  “I did, but you needn’t think I care.”

  “How about ye?” He brushed a stray lock behind her ear. “Ye were the most sought-after woman on the marriage mart from what I hear of it. Why dinna ye wed?”

  “I’m sure you know,” she replied.

  “Society’s restrictions on women,” he surmised.

  “I have no desire to be owned by any man.”

  “I’d no’ ever want to own a woman.” He ran a hand down her waist, his touch light over her smooth, fair skin. “I like what we have. We’re equal.”

  “It seems this has worked out quite well for us both.” She cast him a sensual look that made his cock stir.

  Not again tonight. He’d never had a virgin before, but he knew there would no doubt need to be a time of healing.

  “Indeed, it has and will continue to do so,” he said. “Life has dealt me a fine hand of late. I’ve a bonny wife who listens to my prattle on history and a feisty grandmother to keep me in check. I imagine it will continue to get on well. At least once I figure out the agricultural details behind a Norfolk four course system on my estates.”

  “Norfolk four course system?” She smiled. “Is that an eating schedule for livestock?”

  “That’s what I said.” He traced her collar bone with the pad of his middle finger. “I can tell ye all about it if ye’d like me to help put ye to sleep.”

  “I think I’d like to hear it.” She lowered her head and nestled against him.

  She didn’t move at all in the time he talked, going on about the land and how the fields were swapped regularly, reiterating everything he’d found on the subject. After a bit of time, her shoulders rose and fell with a slow rhythm and he knew she’d gone to sleep.

  He stopped talking, but he did not fall asleep. Not when holding her to him appealed to a deeper part of him than he had anticipated. He’d had lovers in the past, of course, but none of them had ever had their curiosity piqued by his historical knowledge. Certainly, none had ever asked about his past, not with the soft, genuine interest Penelope had.

  And even if they had, he realized, he would never have shared. What was it about Penelope that made her so comfortable to talk to?

  Whatever it was didn’t make him want her any less. In fact, he found that after having her, he simply wanted her more. And in a marriage where he was supposed to be guarding his heart, that was not a good sign.

  10

  MacKenzie woke to a naked woman standing beside the bed. Which was precisely how he wished to wake up every morning.

  Penelope glanced in his direction. Her eyes went wide as a squeak issued forth from her lips and she dashed behind a screen with a bit of muslin trailing after her. “Forgive me,” she called out. “I rise early. I was trying to be quiet.”

  “Ye dinna need to apologize.” He forced himself from the bed and pulled on his pantaloons. “I certainly dinna have any complaints at such a sight first thing in the morning.” He picked up his shirt and put his arms through the sleeves before gathering up the remainder of his clothing. “I’ll leave ye to dress.”

  He opened the door and hastened to his own chamber to give her privacy. He arrived at breakfast an hour later, but Penelope was not there. Gemma was, however, and engaged him in a dissertation of who wore what and which dance people danced with whom. In truth, MacKenzie only recognized a handful of the names she mentioned, but he nodded with interest regardless.

  Gemma glanced toward the door; her face benign. “I don’t suppose Lady Oakhurst will be joining us for breakfast?”

  Penelope’s toast points sat cold on a plate at MacKenzie’s right. “I think ye’re right.” Disappointment squeezed at him before he shoved the useless emotion aside.

  “Oh. I see.” Gemma casually lifted the silver tongs and dropped another lump of sugar into her tea. A maid entered and she offered the young woman a broad smile. “I’ll have a pastry please, one with a bit of strawberry jam in the middle.”

  The maid nodded and made to quit the room when Gemma called her back once more. “And one with a bit of marmalade as well.”

  The maid nodded once more and was gone.

  MacKenzie regarded his grandmother, who had always possessed an affinity for sweets. “Ye know that just because she’s no’ here to see ye doesna mean yer toe doesna know ye’re eating it.”

  “I’ll be more mindful when I’m a great-grandmother.” Gemma delivered a pointed stare and waved her fingers at him. “Off with you. I’m sure you have correspondence to tend to.”

  MacKenzie got to his feet and Gemma turned the side of her face in his direction. He chuckled and kissed her cheek before going about his business. After several hours in his study poring over an endless series of accounts, he had need for a text on agriculture from the library.

  Requiring a stretch and a break, coupled with his natural inclination to not rely on the servants, he made his way to the library where he discovered the door slightly ajar. A curious thing indeed when he knew their housekeeper to be a stickler about checking small things, like doors being completely closed.

  He pushed into the room and found Penelope standing before the section of medical texts. A swift peek around her revealed a book bound in crimson leather in her hands. A smile tugged at his lips. He only knew of one book with a crimson leather cover. It was one that had arrived with all of her other texts and contained many lurid images of couples in various forms of copulation.

  It made for an interesting read; he would give her that.

  He pushed the heavy oak door shut. The click was like a gunshot in the quiet room. She leapt at the sound and the book fell from her hands, where it slapped hard against the wooden floor.

  She spun about, her cheeks flaming with guilt.

  “I dinna mean to startle ye,” he said, only partially lying. “What were ye reading?”

  “Hmmm?” She raised her brows. If he hadn’t seen the book himself, he’d think she was entirely innocent.

  He held back his grin. “The book ye were reading when I walked in.”

  Her hand fumbled behind her to the shelf where she plucked a random text and held up the plain brown cover. “This? Oh, it’s just…” She flicked her gaze to the text, and he swore he almost saw her grimace. “A book on farming.”

  “What was yer favorite chapter?” he asked.

  “The first one,” she replied simply. “It was all I managed before you entered the room and surprised me.”

  He hummed in understanding as he approached and bent to retrieve the crimson-bound book behind her. “I personally found page eighty-five particularly interesting.”

  She flushed but didn’t lower her gaze. “Truly? The one on ninet
y-eight was far more fascinating.”

  He flipped through the pages to page ninety-eight where a man was drawn with his head between the woman’s legs. “Indeed.”

  “I believe your book was placed accidentally with my medical texts.” There was no accusation in her tone, but a hint of coyness that made MacKenzie’s cock stir.

  Still, the idea was so unexpected that a laugh burst from him. “I wouldna do such a thing.”

  Her brow furrowed. “Then how did it become mixed with my library?” She paused and grimaced. “The book…the inappropriate gown…” She put her hand to her brow and groaned. “My mother.”

  MacKenzie tilted his head. “Yer mother?”

  “Has the post been delivered?” Penelope asked abruptly.

  MacKenzie blinked at the sudden change in conversation. “I believe so. I received correspondence from my steward just this morning.”

  “And nothing else has arrived?” She slid the crimson book back onto the shelf.

  MacKenzie shook his head. “I can summon George if ye like.”

  “It isn’t George I believe to be at fault.” She offered a faltering smile and shifted her attention across the room. But not before he caught the flash of disappointment.

  “Ye’ve no’ heard back from St. Thomas’s I presume,” he surmised.

  Penelope swallowed. “Correct. Or rather from Dr. Cooper, as he is the one who revoked my ability to attend the hospital as an unmarried woman.”

  “I see.” MacKenzie checked his watch. The hour read just past two, which meant he’d have enough time to pay a call before parliament began.

  “I’m sure ye’ll hear from him soon.” He reached out a hand before he could stop himself and trailed his finger down her soft cheek and toward her lovely mouth. “In the meantime, I’ll tell George to be vigilant for the arrival of any missives and come to ye immediately upon receiving one.”

  He let his hand fall away and Penelope pressed her lips together slowly, as though savoring the caress. “Thank you, James.”