As before, she enjoyed the way his fingers massaged and pinched her tender nipples in preparation for the initial bite of the clamps. But now she knew what to expect, her gasp was one of pure delight, and she relished the pain that crashed over her senses before dulling to the delicious throbbing ache that connected directly to her clitoris.
“You are…perfection,” rasped Finn, as he trailed a fingertip around her breasts, down to her navel, and back up again. “Straddling me wearing nothing but your spectacles, hair disheveled, nipples clamped, pussy all wet…but I’m concerned about your clitoris. It appears rather swollen. I may have to take a closer look.”
Pippa shivered with heady arousal. “And how might you do that?”
“Hold onto the headboard. Kneel on the pillows. And lower yourself onto my mouth.”
Good lord. Just like a rather excellent scene in A Wicked Comte.
Whimpering, Pippa went up on her knees. Naturally, she couldn’t allow his chest to be neglected, so as she inched forward, padding with the delicacy of a kitten, she threaded her fingers through his chest hair and bent her head to kiss and suck his nipples on the way up. He moaned and jerked at that, but when she briefly rubbed herself against his cock, teasing him with her bush, Finn swore rather colorfully.
“My goodness,” she scolded, teasing him further with a gentle kiss, brushing her lips back and forth against his, making him moan once more. “Language. There will be consequences.”
“You’re going to wash my mouth out with wet pussy?” he asked, so hopefully, that Pippa couldn’t help laughing.
“That does seem an appropriate punishment for the crime,” she said, rearranging the remaining pillows so they would both be comfortable. Then, holding the carved oak headboard for balance, Pippa gradually lowered herself until she hovered a few inches above his mouth. Close enough to feel the exhale of his breath, yet not close enough for him to use his tongue.
“Let me pleasure you, Pippet…”
The sheer yearning in his voice and the intense cravings of her own body made any further delays unthinkable. Pippa glided her pussy against his lips and Finn’s hands immediately curved around her backside, holding her to him. Seconds later his tongue began to move.
His magical tongue.
At the first flick against her throbbing clitoris, Pippa cried out and tightened her grip on the headboard. But Finn was ruthless, circling the swollen bud, fluttering his tongue against the side in the exact spot she liked, closing his lips around it and sucking firmly. She tried to hold the orgasm at bay, to revel in the journey to the top of the mountain before flying free, but willpower was no match for Finn’s tongue. Pippa screamed as she ground her pussy against his mouth in a greedy effort to prolong the sensation, and the additional tug on her clamped nipples hurled her over the edge into ecstasy.
Eventually she floated back to earth. Finn was stroking the sides of her thighs, and she shuffled back down so she straddled his abdomen rather than his face, before taking several deep breaths to try and regain her senses. “I like…orgasms.”
“I like giving them to you,” he replied as he attempted a smile, but she’d never seen his face look so strained.
Poor Finn needed to come more than any person in England. And she…well, as per usual, one orgasm was never enough.
Carefully, so she didn’t disturb her nipple clamps any more than necessary, Pippa moved away from him and kneeled on the bed. Then she leaned forward, resting her weight on her forearms. “I have a respectful request, good sir. To be fucked rough and deep enough from behind to make me scream again. Do you happen to know anyone who might oblige such a scandalous need?”
His low rumbling growl made her squirm on the bed. Then with the haste of a desperate man, Finn covered her like a big warm blanket, his chest pressing firmly against her back. One arm curved around her waist, and his huge cock glided against the soaked entrance to her pussy.
“Only one man. Your husband,” Finn replied, nipping her neck and shoulder until she whimpered with the need to be filled.
“Take me. Please,” she said, unashamed to beg.
For a moment she thought he might deny her, merely tease until her fingers tore the linen sheets. Instead, he did something far more diabolical; rather than thrusting deep like she craved, Finn fitted his cock to her entrance and lazily pushed just the head in.
“Yes,” he breathed. “So tight and hot. The perfect pussy.”
Pippa tried to push back onto him, so he would be all the way inside her as quickly as possible, but Finn didn’t permit that. He halted, his impossibly thick and hard cock only a few inches deep.
“Finn,” she said, her palms slapping the sheet in frustration. “Don’t you dare stop.”
He laughed, an exceedingly ragged sound, but a laugh nonetheless. Then the arm around her waist moved and he gently nudged her clamped right nipple with a fingertip.
Pippa gave a strangled cry as a streak of fire traveled from her breast directly to her clitoris. Then he did the same thing to the left and her pussy pulsed and spasmed, the violent orgasm shaking her with the force of the previous night’s storm. Only then did Finn thrust all the way inside her, and the stretch and fullness, the sheer relief of an acute need finally met, prolonged the orgasm until she screamed again.
“Oh, you like that sweet Pippet?” he growled in her ear as he fucked her brutally, wonderfully deep. “You like being stuffed full with your husband’s cock? Say it.”
“I love it,” she sobbed. “I need it. I always need it. I need you…”
Finn’s roar of ecstasy echoed in the bedchamber as he yanked his cock from her pussy, and the hot spurts of his seed lashed her lower back like a liquid flogger.
Exhausted, not sure if she would ever be able to move again, Pippa rested her forehead on the pillows. Soon after, Finn removed the clamps from her nipples one at a time. The pain made her mewl, the soothing rub of his palms both welcome and almost unbearable against the too-sensitive tips. But eventually he settled himself on his side and cradled her like two spoons in the cutlery drawer, petting her until she made a ridiculous purring sound.
“Comfortable, Pippet?”
“Mmmmhmmm. Do you need assistance with the dildo?” she asked.
“I’ve pulled it out already. I was grateful for the ring at the end and the flared base,” he replied. “With force like that, who knows where it might have ended up.”
“Be quite a tale if you sneezed and it dropped into your breakfast…talking of breakfast, must we get out of bed yet?”
Finn pulled the sheets and quilt up over them both. “No reason to do so just now. Although later I’ll call for the copper tub. I think a hot bath would do us both the world of good.”
“Then breakfast,” she mumbled, patting his hand. “Never forget breakfast.”
“I wouldn’t dare,” he said, and she could hear the tender amusement in his voice.
Pippa sighed with bone-deep contentment.
They had weathered many storms; surely there could only be smooth sailing ahead.
“I hate to say it, but The Highland Marauder was factually incorrect in one critical area: a bath for two is not romantic. Nor is it the place for activities of an amorous nature. One involuntary twitch and I will give myself a bloodied nose.”
Finn almost laughed, but he and Pippa were sitting in the copper tub facing each other, knees shoved under their chins and arms dangling over the sides. If either moved a muscle yet another tidal wave of water would gush onto the wooden floor.
They had learned this the hard way.
“The laird had a waterfall pouring into a pool the size of the music room,” he replied. “I just think it’s that we don’t have the correct materials. Some of the pleasure clubs in the city have permanent baths made of marble behind their screens. No more lugging a copper tub upstairs, just the hot water. And they are large enough to lie down in.”
Pippa raised an eyebrow; about all she could do to prevent further flooding. �
��I don’t mean to be a nagging wife, but when are we going to get one of those? Because as exciting as it is to perform contortionist acts and wrap my ankles around my neck, the thought of stretching out in a bath does sound rather lovely. Especially after pleasure toy play.”
“You would like to continue that?”
“That would be a resounding yes. I am shamelessly offering myself up to be used for testing purposes while offering a stern eye for quality. It is important that all Bliss goods meet the highest of standards. I’m also looking forward to seeing what you create next in the inventing room.”
“Probably nothing,” Finn said morosely, wanting to slap the water in frustration, but restricting himself to drumming his fingers on the edge of the tub. “I’m not sure how I’ll have time for Bliss, what with all the duties of a marquess. I don’t want to be half-hearted or a failure at that, not with so many relying on me.”
“Where is it written that you have to do it by yourself?”
“Well yes, there are staff, but I still have to oversee—”
“No, you handsome, delicious twit,” she said impatiently. “I meant me.”
Finn tilted his head. “I was about to say something foolish like the reading of ledgers and reports and documents would be excessively dry, but then I remembered to whom I was speaking. Pippetus Latinus.”
“Precisely…oh, do let me help, Finn. Your sister is an experienced bookkeeper, we could ask her to give me some training, then I will be able to study the estate ledgers with a learned eye. I will ensure we never experience what Gabriel and Lilian did with that crooked butler and his cronies committing fraud. Let this be another part of the new Pinehurst era. A marchioness who is valued for her mind as much as her womb.”
“I adore your mind. It is my second favorite thing about you.”
Pippa flicked his kneecap and water sloshed dangerously close to the rim of the tub. “Bah. The first is my pussy, I suppose?” she said, huffing out a breath.
“Your spectacles,” he mumbled.
“Beg pardon?”
“Your spectacles. There are few certainties in the world, but I know you peering over your spectacles at me will still make my cock hard when we are in our eighties. Just so there is no confusion though, I also cherish your perfect pussy.”
Pippa stared at him; her gaze thoughtful. “You’ve always liked me just as I am. Never wanted me to be taller or have bigger breasts, curlier hair, or bluer eyes. Not with different hobbies or less salt. Never told me I read too much and to go outside.”
“Yes,” he said simply. “From that first moment you shared your ice with me, I knew you would be the center of my world. No one else could possibly compare to the mighty Pippet.”
She visibly swallowed. “Well. Well. You know, all of that sounded rather like a convoluted way of informing me that yes, you will share the burdens of being a marquess. Obviously, I cannot sit in the House of Lords, more’s the pity, but everything else. Then you will have time for Bliss.”
“If that is what you wish, then I’ll gladly give you half the paperwork. I’ll purchase another desk for the library; then you can study ledgers, estate reports from stewards, contracts and invoices, until you mutter about creditors and crops in your sleep. Compensation for the position shall include pleasure toys, explicit romance novels, and paper flowers.”
Pippa sniffled. “I think that might be the best employment offer in the history of the world. I should like to discuss this further, however my skin is wrinkling and my stomach will soon rumble loud enough to make the city fearful of another pending storm.”
It took time and dexterity, but they eventually managed to haul each other out of the copper tub without saturating the floor further. Pippa wrapped herself in her dressing gown and dashed to her own room to get dressed, while he succumbed to his valet’s pleas to shave his ‘pirate jaw.’
A half hour later they walked arm in arm down the stairs, both trying not to wince.
“Definitely no more copper tub for two after vigorous fucking,” Finn muttered.
She laughed. “We look so prim and proper and somber in black, not a couple who plays with nipple clamps and dildos. Now I wonder how many other prim and proper and somber couples take tea and talk about the weather after some light bondage or a stern flogging.”
“Considering the number of orders we received at Bliss, and how popular pain play clubs like Mrs. Berkley’s are, I’d say hundreds. I mean, it might be a corset making the portly gentleman move stiffly at the ball…or it could be the fact that his mistress just caned his arse red.”
Pippa nodded. “It could be nerves making the young widow squirm…or the fact that a masked gentleman just handed her a note telling her to meet him on the balcony, because he cannot wait any longer to lick her pussy.”
Finn halted on the stairs and turned to her. “You are,” he said, curving one hand around the back of her neck and kissing her, while being careful not to brush against her sore nipples, “a very wicked wife.”
“Yes,” she replied, her cheeks pink and her eyes bright. “Fortunately, I have an equally wicked husband. However, if I’m not fed, I will turn from delightfully naughty to just plain feral.”
“Can’t have that. To the dining room!”
Hell. If it wasn’t for the fact that his muscles ached and his backside remained tender, he might strut like a peacock. Yes, it had taken sixteen years to achieve his dream, but the reality of Pippa as his lover, and his wife, was even better than he’d hoped. The way they could just…say anything and have it understood. Be irreverent or serious, demanding or tentative. And even when they made mistakes, know they could ask for forgiveness and atone, because their marriage had a strong, sturdy base of mutual care and affection.
He was certain I love you would come eventually. He just had to be patient. Pippa had already made such brave steps to advance beyond her quite understandable walls. Besides, she was a woman of actions rather than words. In the same way he craved to hear her declare her love, he needed to do better at expressing it with deeds.
When they entered the dining room the scents made his mouth water; apparently, he was just as ravenous as Pippa. The kitchens had outdone themselves and the sideboard near-groaned with dishes: toasted bread and butter, marmalade and berry preserves, coddled eggs, sliced ham, and sautéed potato. Next to the food were two pots, one of tea and one of chocolate.
Pippa glanced at him, her eyes glinting. “Well, here’s my breakfast, is yours still coming?”
“Sit down and behave, Lady Pinehurst,” he admonished. “Or there will be no new toys for you.”
“Yes, my lord husband,” she replied, with such false demureness, that he rubbed his jaw to halt a laugh. They did have an audience of footmen after all.
After filling their plates, they ate in companionable silence. Pippa kept sending him apologetic glances as she shoveled in another bite of food, and he patted her arm before reaching for one of the newspapers sitting in a neatly folded pile beside his plate. Some news of the world would be welcome; with everything that had happened at home in the past few weeks, it felt like he had no clue what was going on in the city, or the country for that matter. Indeed, some nice, normal politics, banking, or trade would be just the thing.
“Beg pardon, my lord, my lady.”
They both looked up to see Travers hovering in the doorway.
Finn shook his head, unsure whether to groan or begin packing their trunks so they could move to the top of the most isolated mountain in the realm. “Just say it, Travers.”
“Forgive me for the disturbance, but ah—”
“No need to announce me, I’m family,” said Lady Kingsford as she marched into the dining room…Lord Campbell in tow.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
He glanced at Pippa as he took her hand and interlaced their fingers, wanting to infuse her with all his strength. The dragon had held sway over the village for far too long; it was time for the mighty Pippet to rise and conquer, with h
im protecting her back.
Today the village would unleash, and ensure all its enemies turned tail and ran for good.
Chapter 17
It stood to reason that after a morning with Finn including a love declaration, pleasure toys, copious orgasms, tender banter in the copper tub, and a delicious breakfast, her ledger would be balanced with an unexpected and decidedly unwanted visit from the person she loathed most in the world.
But she’d had quite enough. No more would the devil’s unofficial handmaiden shoot her poisoned verbal arrows, manipulate, or exert influence over Pippa Pinehurst’s life.
Giving Finn’s fingers a brief squeeze, Pippa then dabbed at her mouth with a linen napkin before staring directly at Lady Kingsford. “Is there an emergency? Because I don’t recall issuing an invitation. Nor do my husband and I appreciate you barging into our dining room and interrupting breakfast, especially with another uninvited visitor in Lord Campbell.”
“Hear hear,” said Finn. “Travers, would you escort Lord Campbell to the…yellow parlor. Don’t bother with a tea tray, he won’t be staying long.”
The butler bowed, his lips twitching. “At once. Please come this way, my lord.”
At first, the baron merely glared at Pippa. But he eventually departed the room.
“How unspeakably rude,” said Lady Kingsford. “I know I taught you better than that—”
“Good lord, here a few minutes, and already my patience has gone,” said Pippa as she rose to her feet. “State your purpose, and do recall that in Pinehurst House you hold no power whatsoever. No one will obey you. No one desires your opinion. Most importantly, I would not just threaten to have footmen escort you from the premises, I would order it to happen.”
Her grandmother blinked and turned to Finn. “Are you going to say something, Pinehurst? Or must your late father be shamed further by your weakness?”
THE BEST MARQUESS: Wickedly Wed #2 Page 25
