by Heather Boyd
He walked to a long chaise and eased her down. “I think we’ll be more comfortable here.”
While she appreciated his consideration of her comfort, Lenore was reasonably sure she’d be comfortable anywhere Price wanted to kiss her. She leaned back and smiled up at him. “Come to me,” she whispered.
Price swooped down to join her. But instead of her kissing her mouth, he pressed his lips against her throat, and then she felt the nip of his teeth.
Lenore moaned and shivered again. It felt so good. “So that’s what you meant about biting me at breakfast after our first night together.”
“You have no idea where else I want to do that, too.”
“Show me,” she whispered. So much of what he did to her felt new and unexpected that she couldn’t wait to find out what would happen next. His hands tormented her body, grasping and sliding along her side as they kissed. It was lovely, but her fresh gown was going to be as rumpled as an old rag soon.
She found the buttons on his waistcoat and undid them slowly. When the garment gaped, she slid her hand inside, across his chest. Price was delightfully warm beneath his linen shirt. She curled her hand around his ribs and pulled him to her a little more firmly.
Price eased to one side and started lifting her gown above her knees. She stared at him, eager and excited that he again touch her sex. She dipped her fingers beneath the band of his trousers, anticipating, yearning for what he would do to her next. “Price,” she whispered.
“I’m here,” he answered, drawing back to look into her eyes.
She hadn’t a question in mind. She’d just felt the need to say the name of her husband out loud once more. She looped her arms around his neck and wriggled until his body rested between her thighs. “I’m glad you came to dinner.”
“This is all the feast a married man could yearn for.” His lips fused to hers in an all-consuming kiss, and they were making love. Their bodies writhed against each other, even with the barrier of his clothes still an impediment between them.
She knew now what was to come, and when Price lowered one hand between them and fumbled with his trousers, she let her knees fall farther apart.
When he was finished, he caught her legs and wrapped them around his waist. He settled against hers, bracing his weight on his arms beside her shoulders. He toyed with her hair, smiling as he twisted it this way and that between his fingers.
When he dropped it, he wrapped his fingers over her hips and held her still for a moment.
The speed of their breathing merged, aligned, as they stared into each others eyes. Lenore smiled as the weight of what they were about to do again settled between them comfortably.
There were no shadows in this room. She had a clear view of her husband’s face as he bent to kiss her lips softly. Lenore grasped the waistband of his trousers and tugged and pushed, sliding them down his hips as far as she could reach.
He chuckled softly and helped push them out of the way. Lenore spread her fingers over the firm globe of his backside and squeezed. Her husband shifted lower, moving out of her reach, and buried his face between her breasts. “These are my favorite.”
He moved, kissing around the edge of her gown’s bodice.
“All I see of you arouses me, Lenore.”
Lenore was aware her nipples had hardened, and she lifted her chest a little, seeking relief from the sensation. A hot breath suddenly caressed one, and then Price’s mouth was on her nipple, kissing and licking the hardened point, making her moan.
She looked down to see his eyes were closed as he suckled at her breast. It felt good, wonderful really, and he seemed to be enjoying himself there, too.
She cupped his skull, holding him close, but after a little while she felt discomfort. When she pushed at him, he released her breast with a grin but soon uncovered the other. He lavished attention on her until she was nearly boneless.
But between her legs, her pulse started to thrum.
When she pushed Price away from her breasts a second time, he willingly gave way and came back to her lips again. “Your lips are so kissable,” he whispered, before kissing her again.
Lenore couldn’t seem to lie still tonight. Kissing was lovely but not enough. Her husband held her body against his hips and the way they moved against each other excited her too much.
When her fingers found hot bare skin, she slid them lightly over his body under his shirt and coat, and then wound her arms loosely around his waist to embrace him. Lovemaking such as this was a pleasure that should last longer than a few minutes.
As her fingers spread over his muscular back, she felt him hot and hard against her inner thigh. A little more adjustment, and bare skin met bare skin at the apex of her thighs.
Price had rested his weight on his elbows. He looked down at Lenore, and she appreciated the small distance between them to catch her breath. She could move, fling herself against his heat or retreat at will in this position.
She slid her hand down his back until her fingers could spread over his firm bottom once more. She squeezed, and Price bent his head and moaned against her ear as his hips pressed against hers. Lenore widened her legs a little more, anticipating what would happen next.
She felt him there, hard at her entrance. With an encouraging wiggle, he filled her in one slow thrust that left them both gasping.
She writhed on him, squeezing his flesh, digging her fingers into his bottom to hold him deep inside her.
But he rose up on his hands too soon as he withdrew. Price stared down at her, his expression open and unguarded. A smile played over his lips. She reached out one hand to cup his cheek. Price closed his eyes and leaned into her touch as he began to thrust with short jerks of his hips that made her feel incredible and warm.
She loved the way he lit up her senses, helped her feel she was part of him. If only it could last, but she had no delusions. They were man and wife, yes, but they might never be closer than this.
Lenore drew him back down to lie heavy against her, curled her arms about his body, and wrapped her legs about his hips tighter. This and only this mattered between them. What did it matter if he lived his own life as long as he could be drawn back for this?
The change of position brought Price deeper into her body, and she began to tingle, ache where they were joined, like the first time.
She tried not to gasp as his thrust became wilder, harder, and she clawed at his back, feeling desperate for something just out of her reach. She thrust her hips up to meet him, eager to explore more of that sensation.
“Yes,” Price whispered against her ear. “You’re excited. Don’t fight against it. Use me.”
She didn’t know what he meant, but as they moved together, she began to understand what brought her the greatest pleasure. She loved his hardest thrusts, hated his withdrawal. Lenore eagerly rubbed her body against his any way she could to feel more of what she wanted. She enjoyed making love.
She loved the way Price made her feel like she was the only woman in the world who mattered.
Price suddenly grasped one of her legs, held it wide and high as he bucked wildly against her. He shifted her leg onto his shoulder, and then brought the other one up, too. He reared up on his knees and grinned.
She should have been so embarrassed to have her legs so high in the air, but it only excited her more to see that smile on his face. And then Price touched her between her legs—and her senses exploded wide and far.
She came down to earth slowly, gasping, to find Price had placed his hand over her mouth. He was still inside her, his chest heaving as he watched her from so far above. Lenore smiled a little sheepishly against his palm, and then flexed her hips.
Price shuddered, and then he was slamming into her again and again, only to groan and jerk as he found his satisfaction inside her.
Lenore smiled softly as he collapsed over her, heavy and hot. He hugged her close, as if she was dear to him, and then kissed her cheek softly. It had been good for both of them this time,
and that was all she’d ever hoped for when she’d decided to marry him.
A little while later, when her body had cooled, Price was still entangled with her on the chaise as if he didn’t plan to move anytime soon. His arm was heavy across her waist, and she was loathe to dislodge him. However, there was the matter of their dinner growing cold. The servants were waiting to serve them, too.
“We should get up,” she whispered.
“I am hungry,” he said.
Lenore sat up immediately and swung her feet onto the floor. “Why didn’t you say something?”
His fingers closed around her upper arm. “I’ve had my first course. We could have the seconds upstairs in your bed, if you like.” One of his brows lifted high.
“You want to eat dinner in my bed?”
He sat up slowly and pressed his lips against the back of her neck. “I want you to be my main course and dessert.”
She looked at him over her shoulder. “How do I explain that to the servants?”
“You don’t. I’ll tell them I have other plans tonight for our dinner. You run upstairs and hop into bed. I’ll be with you as quickly as possible.”
It seemed a very scandalous thing to do, but they were married, and she’d not spent enough time with her husband yet. She stood, wobbled a little on weak legs, and hurried to straighten her gown into some sort of order.
Price stood too and buttoned his trousers but left the rest of his clothing undone and untidy. A knowing smile crossed his lips. “There is no way the servants didn’t hear us making love.”
Lenore blushed.
Price pulled her close to his side suddenly. “That’s how it should be between us from now on. No more nights spent apart.”
Lenore nearly swooned to hear Price promise her the moon. A future together.
He caught her hand and pulled her toward the closed door. He stepped out and, after a moment, tugged her to join him. She hurried for the staircase and rushed upstairs, hearing only her husband’s steps moving away as she headed for her bedchamber.
Inside her room, she undressed quickly and pulled on a robe. She pulled any remaining pins from her hair and brushed it out before her mirror. By the time she was done with her preparations, her husband was stepping into her room—completely naked and holding a large tray.
She sighed, and felt her body quiver again as he set the tray on her writing table. “Reinforcements for later consumption,” he promised.
“Later,” she whispered.
“Much later.” He joined her quickly and urged her toward the bed, removing her robe before pulling back the covers. As Lenore slipped between crisp sheets naked, she marveled at how easy she found it, being alone with her husband. She draped her arms around his shoulders when they came together again, and when he kissed her, she closed her eyes and thought only of making them both as happy as possible the only way she knew how.
Chapter 18
White’s Club had been one of Price’s favorite haunts in recent years, though he hadn’t spent much time here in the last six months. It was a place where gentlemen could meet and discuss politics. Argue, plot, and scheme. Price had felt at home here for as long as he’d been a member. There was always something to do worth hearing about.
He strode inside in the late afternoon, a spring in his step and a smile on his lips. He was self-aware enough to know he’d not wanted to be around other lords for a long time until today. That was no longer the case. He found he was looking forward to the future with hope in his heart once again.
A future with a wife who’d let him make love to her anytime of the day or night for the past five days.
“Look here, it is Carmichael, come to White’s at last. We thought you’d gone to the country,” Lord Newbottom exclaimed as soon as Price made it inside.
Newbottom and his group were on the verge of leaving the establishment.
He smiled and waved them past, eager to find his closest friends, who expected to meet him here. “No. I haven’t left London. Obviously.”
“But where have you been, my good fellow?” Newbottom sang out, trying to detain him a few minutes more. “You missed a great party at Lady Henry’s last week.”
“I was otherwise engaged,” he called out, because he had spotted Wharton and Scarsdale just ahead and hurried his steps in the other direction. He clapped both on the shoulder. “Gentlemen.”
“My God, he is alive,” Scarsdale exclaimed, stopping in his tracks and staring.
Price laughed as they made their way into the dining room and found an empty table. “Why wouldn’t I be alive?”
“It’s been five days since we’ve seen you. We were about to mount a search and rescue,” Wharton remarked.
“I hardly needed rescue,” Price murmured as he gave the hovering footman his order. His time at home had been well spent. “I was with my wife.”
Scarsdale choked. “Every moment of every day?”
Close to it. “We had a lot to discuss.”
Not that he could remember now exactly what they’d talked about. None of it had been truly important.
His drink arrived and he took a small sip, hiding a smile. He felt good. Rested. He’d been sleeping a lot lately, and drinking far less each day than he’d done in the last half year. He rubbed his hands together. Eager to enjoy the night with friends. “So what have I missed?”
“Nothing important. Wharton’s mistress left him at last,” Scarsdale murmured quietly.
“It was a mutual leaving, thank you very much.”
Price smiled slowly. “Did she demand you give up all other women or expect you to marry her?”
Scarsdale snorted. “Both.”
Price pressed a hand over his heart, feigning shock. “She expected you, of all people, to be monoga—”
“Don’t even think that word,” Wharton warned, raising one finger.
Despite the loss of his long-term mistress, Wharton looked to be in good spirits.
Price knew the benefits of committing to just one woman outweighed any sacrifice. He doubted he’d have the energy to devote to two women, especially if they were anything like his wife in bed. He sipped his drink, intending this glass to last him longer than any other had recently. “There’s nothing wrong with a narrower focus.”
“I suppose not—for someone like you,” Wharton murmured, tossing back a healthy mouthful of his and asking for a refill immediately.
“Like me?”
Wharton looked at him sourly. “Married and besotted.”
Price looked away. Was he besotted? Satisfied, certainly. He had to admit he was only here because Lenore had a prior commitment to meet with friends and hadn’t invited him to join her. If she had stayed at home, he never would have come to his club at all. It was too early for Bradshaw’s, and he’d no plans to go back there ever again.
They hadn’t indulged in sex every night and day, though they’d had a lot of it. Thankfully, he no longer felt awkward around Lenore, and having been so well satisfied in her bed, he had found the control he’d thought he’d lacked wasn’t even required anymore. Mostly they’d stayed at home together in the same room, talking and reading. Playing with her dog and deciding, together, that they should obtain another animal in the spring.
He could be very happy being married to Lenore, so long as nothing upset the balance.
Wharton nudged Price’s foot. “It happens to all married men eventually.”
“What does?”
“Smiling without good reason. Introspection instead of conversation.” Wharton sat forward, an evil grin on his face. “What you did miss of note this week was Scarsdale admitting he’s become a client of that Hillcrest Academy you were telling me about.”
Price didn’t bother to hide his astonishment as he stared at Scarsdale. “Good lord, why are you going there?”
“Mother insisted,” Scarsdale answered but sank into his chair, looking highly uncomfortable.
Price laughed. “I can’t believe you’re still do
ing what your mother tells you to do?”
“You’re probably doing what your wife says these days,” Scarsdale shot back a bit defensively.
Price shook his head. “My wife has made no demands whatsoever.”
“We haven’t seen you in days.” Scarsdale’s glare intensified. “You stayed at home with her to stay on her good side, and that’s my point. If I refuse mother, she threatened to toss me out.”
Price laughed, along with Wharton. “Isn’t it time to get your own place?”
“Out of the question. If I trusted my mother’s so-called friends, perhaps I could leave her unattended. But I don’t, and I also don’t want to talk about it again tonight.”
Price exchanged a glance with Wharton and let the matter drop. Family brought difficulties. Price was lucky he only had Lenore to worry about.
They ate a companionable dinner, joined by others later. There was a rousing good debate on the merits of marriage and mistresses. Price freely admitted he had no strong opinion against mistresses but plenty to say on the value of a wife.
It was good to be among friends again, but he found himself aware of the time and was counting the minutes until he could go home to her.
When they rose to take their leave of White’s, Wharton invited him to join them at Madam Bradshaw’s for drinks and amusements, as usual.
“Not tonight,” he murmured.
“Rushing home to the little woman,” Scarsdale teased with a hearty laugh.
“Not rushing, but I am keeping a promise.”
“Leg-shackled,” Wharton said to Scarsdale as the pair headed out to meet his carriage. “We’ll drop him safe and well at his front door. Make sure he doesn’t run the whole way.”
When Scarsdale laughed along, Price winced, but he did follow them out and make use of his friend’s conveyance. His home was only a little out of their way.
“So what lie did you tell the Hillcrest cousins to get through their front door?” he asked Scarsdale. “It must have been a good one, because I know you need no help when it comes to charming the ladies.”
