by Golden Angel
"Ha!" Cynthia chortled, her eyes brightening with amusement and triumph. "You like it, don't you?"
Both Cynthia and Gabrielle were grinning at her while the others were a little more circumspect. Eleanor at least covered her smile with her hand, pretending a cough while Cordelia just blinked and managed to maintain a blank expression. Arabella's sisters-in-law both had pinched lips as if they were trying to suppress their own smiles. Considering how adamant Arabella had been in some of her statements, she supposed she couldn't blame them.
"Yes, yes," she said a bit irritably. "You were all correct, being disciplined is awful but afterwards is... well, not so awful."
"Does he only spank you to discipline you?" Eleanor asked, leaning forward slightly. Arabella knew that she was another one whose husband enjoyed routinely spanking her just for enjoyment's sake. As all of the women in this room had shared rather freely with her—Lydia and Christina were a bit more reserved, but Arabella was relentless when she wanted to know something—she couldn't very well prevaricate without being massively hypocritical.
Sighing, she reached for a biscuit. If she was going to be interrogated she might as well indulge.
"No, he likes to incorporate it into our regular bedroom routine," she said, this time without even a hint of a blush. There was no need for missish airs with this gathering.
"What else?" Cynthia asked so eagerly that more than one of the ladies gave her an inquiring look. She shrugged. "What? He comes off as rather priggish and I could never decide if he was truly that stuffy or if he was secretly just as perverse as our husbands under his proper demeanor."
"Like Alex," Eleanor said, referencing her best friend's husband, who tended to be quite upright at all times, yet thoroughly enjoyed spanking his wife.
Lydia smiled. "Isaac comes off as rather proper too. So does Philip, come to think of it."
"Yes, yes," Cynthia said, waving her hand dismissively. "But we already know all about them. I want to know all about Thomas now. Has he used anything other than his hand? Has he put anything in your bottom? Does he do anything unusual?" Each outrageous question was asked with a completely straight face and sincere interest.
Gabrielle snorted laughter as Eleanor let out a small moan and put her hands over her face, shaking her head at her outrageous friend. Lydia's lips were pressed so tightly together that they'd turned white and Christina had given up the effort completely and was giggling almost gleefully. Only Cordelia managed to maintain her composure, although her dark eyes were sparkling as she sipped her tea.
Rising to the challenge, Arabella faced Cynthia down. She did feel a bit of a flush in her cheeks, but she kept her voice even. Sometimes it felt as though the two of them competed to be the more outrageous in various arenas; this was one where Arabella hadn't had the chance to bandy with her yet, but she was willing to try.
"A strap, his fingers, and I'm not sure... what qualifies as unusual in this group?" She asked the question with a touch of amusement. They all knew each man had his preferences—Cordelia and Philip, for all their upright airs, were well known for sneaking off and copulating in other people's houses during balls. Arabella didn't think her and Thomas' penchant for doing such on his own lands was nearly as outlandish as that.
"Oh dear lord, there's two of them now," Christina muttered, still giggling.
Gabrielle shot her a sidelong look of amusement. "Did you really expect anything less?"
“Unusual would be anything you haven’t heard us already mention,” Cynthia said, looking a bit exasperated. She lowered her voice a little. “I’ve talked with a lady who had sex while an audience watched. There’s a whole club devoted to it!”
Now that was certainly more interesting than continuing to admit uncomfortable truths. Arabella leaned forward. “Do tell!”
Christina sighed.
******
The separated groups came together when Viscount and Viscountess Petersham arrived, with Lord and Lady Brooke driving up to the house as their boxes were still being unloaded from the carriage. Thomas was pleased to see Arabella was beaming with happiness, a bright sparkle in her eyes. She looked as though she was enjoying herself.
"Did you have a good coze with your friends?" he asked quietly, stepping beside her as Eleanor gave the room assignments in between greetings.
"We did," Arabella said, smiling up at him with the little smirk he associated with her getting up to mischief. "We talked about absolutely scandalous things. What did the gentlemen talk about?"
"The children," he said, amused. He wasn't sure if she was telling the truth or just trying to goad a reaction from him, but either way it was always more interesting to pretend she hadn't said anything untoward. "Baby names. We went to the nursery but you all had already retired to the drawing room."
Arabella frowned at him. "But that's boring," she complained. "I thought you were all members of a scandalous club. That's what Cynthia said."
He coughed to cover a laugh as her attention was taken by Grace's approach.
"Wesley wishes," he muttered under his breath before turning to greet Alex while the two women exclaimed over each other and Grace proffered her congratulations. Behind them, Cordelia and Lydia had already taken charge of the Brooke children—at nearly two years of age, Alex's heir, George, was happily babbling to Cordelia who had crouched in front of him, and six month old Penelope was trying to stuff a lock of Lydia's honey-gold hair in her mouth. Both women were cooing over them and probably thinking to their future.
Thomas eyed Arabella. He wouldn't mind seeing her hold one of the babies and getting a glimpse of their future together. He'd been a little disappointed when they'd visited the nursery to find the ladies already gone, although he had enjoyed meeting Edwin's children. Hugh and Irene's two redheaded offspring were being held by their parents, both of them obviously exhausted from the long travels.
Once the new arrivals had been greeted, the company disbursed somewhat. Edwin and Eleanor needed to see the new arrivals settled, Gabrielle wanted a nap, Wesley and Felix went off to play billiards, while Thomas and Arabella joined those who wanted to amble through the gorgeous gardens in the back of the house.
Watching Arabella with her friends and brothers, laughing a little too loud, teasing them mercilessly, rushing about on the pathways if she saw a particular flower she wanted to examine, Thomas realized his brother and friends were correct. He was smiling. Not only was he smiling for no apparent reason, but he was smiling despite his wife's behavior, her impetuousness, her lack of decorum, and her brash personality.
In fact, one might even say he was smiling because of all of those things.
Which was when it hit him... he'd gone and fallen in love with his wife.
******
When Thomas practically dragged her out of the garden and up to the room they were sharing, Arabella didn't know what to think. He wasn't behaving as though she'd done anything wrong, so she didn't think he was upset with her or overcome with a need to spank her... but he was behaving very oddly. The expression on his face was nearly as odd—anxious and almost impatient, but she couldn't imagine what was so urgent.
"What?" she asked, feeling rather anxious herself by the time he'd practically shoved her through the door and slammed it behind them. Not knowing what the problem was... well, she didn't like it at all. Thomas whirled around to face her an almost manic look in his eyes.
"I'm in love with you," he announced.
Then looked at her almost warily.
Arabella's mouth dropped open. "What?"
"I'm in love with you," he repeated, still watching her in that odd way that she couldn't quite decipher.
Although Arabella had imagined him saying those exact words quite often before they were married (and if she were being completely honest, she'd had a few fantasies more recently as well) this was certainly not how she'd ever pictured it. He didn't seem overcome by emotion or as though he regretted every negative thought he'd ever had about her—although
she had to admit, she rather liked the near-defiance in his tone—but...
"No, you don't."
"Yes, I do. Don't tell me what I feel." Although he didn't seem particularly surprised that she was arguing with him.
"You don't," she insisted. "You just think you do because we're surrounded by love matches right now."
"Which is why I can recognize the emotion when I feel it," he countered, taking a step closer.
Arabella shook her head and, for the first time in their relationship, backed away. The hope that was clawing through her chest was too painful to be acknowledged, and she wouldn't let it grow. She couldn't. Because when he came to his senses, when the happy honeymoon glow wore off and they were no longer surrounded by their friends, he would remember all the reasons he could never love her.
"I'm not demure."
"I've realized I prefer boldness." He stepped forward again and Arabella retreated another step, watching him warily.
"I'm going to occasionally ride in breeches, astride, while we're in the country."
The grin that spread across his face had become rather familiar to her. "And when I catch you I'll spank you and see how well you do riding me astride."
The image which rose up in her mind made her cheeks flush with desire, her body tingling.
"I'm not—"
"I don't care." The ferocity with which he stated assertion had her snapping her mouth shut as she stared wide-eyed up at him. This time she didn't step back as he came forward, his hands reaching up to cup her face and tilt her head back to look at him. Her hands trembled as she lifted them to curve over his wrists, needing to touch him as if she would be able to feel his sincerity, his emotion, through his skin. "I wish you'd never overheard that accursed list, because it doesn't matter to me anymore. Every item on it is wrong. Well, not every item, but every item which you don't fulfill.
“My brothers were right. My parents were right. Everyone who told me I would be miserable with a checklist of traits was right. You were right when you told me I was insecure about my title. But you're wrong when you say I don't love you."
Tears were starting to fill her eyes, happy ones, because he seemed so earnest, so sincere... and she'd never known Thomas to be anything but honest. She'd always never known him to so unequivocally say he was wrong about anything.
"What about next Season?" She whispered the question, unable to get enough air to speak any louder. "What about when we're in town and I do something brash that you don't approve of—"
Dropping a kiss to her mouth, Thomas gently cut off her words. He leaned his forehead against hers, staring into her eyes. "I might occasionally be frustrated by you, I am absolutely certain we will fight, I will likely wear my hand out on your bottom, but none of that will stop me from loving you." Suddenly he smiled, that little glint back in his eyes. "I could happily spend the rest of my life trying to tame your wild ways and never succeeding."
Her fingers tightened around his hands.
“I love you, too.”
******
The happiness that rushed through Thomas was indescribable. He’d hoped… but there had been no way to know for sure.
Of course, he couldn’t help but tease her a little. “Are you sure? I’ve heard I’m stuffy and priggish, not to mention the spankings.”
A sly little look came into her eyes as she smiled up at him, practically beaming. Her expression was so open, so warm and loving, she’d never looked more beautiful. “Well, you could always stop spanking me.”
“Minx,” he growled, lowering his mouth to hers. Arabella’s lips immediately parted beneath his as she kissed him back with all the considerable passion in her body. This time she wasn’t the only one feeling a sense of extreme urgency as they began to pull at each other’s clothing, nearly in a frenzy. As much as Thomas enjoyed taking his time with her, right now he just wanted to be inside her, to feel her all around him, to be as deep within her as he could be.
They stumbled towards the bed, half-dressed and kissing each other frantically, their hands running over each other’s bodies and pushing their clothing from their limbs. Lifting her up, Thomas practically tossed her onto the bed, kicking off his pants before crawling on after her. Arabella was already up on her knees and reaching for him, but a moment later he had her on her back with her legs spread wide apart.
His fingers pressed between her legs and found her wet and already ready. Taking a moment to caress her sensitive flesh in the manner he knew she liked the best, he grinned as she moaned and shuddered with pleasure. Giving her clit a last little pinch that made her cry out, he lined his cock up with her entrance and began to slid into her soaked sheathe.
Reaching up, she wound her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss, her fingers dragging down his chest as he filled her. She let out a low, moaning sob as he thrust deep, her pussy gripping him hard as she moved beneath him, her body taking him in as her hands roamed over his skin. It was pleasure, it was bliss…
It felt like coming home.
Now that he was fully embedded inside of her, could feel her beneath him and around him, Thomas’ urgency waned just a bit. Enough so that when he began to thrust, it was with long, slow strokes that lingered, just enjoying the sensation of her pussy wrapped around him, her silky softness against his harder muscles, and the little whimpers of pleasure that she made in the back of her throat.
His hands moved up to delve into her hair, pins scattering as his fingers thrust into the soft strands. Holding her head immobile, he kissed her deeply, claiming her mouth the same way he claimed the rest of her body.
She was his. Completely, unreservedly, and she showed it with unspoken passion and love in every movement she made.
Thomas had made love to her before, but not like this. Not with the words said between them, enhancing their passion, fueling their happiness. Everything between them had always been intense, but now they’d reached new heights which had been uncharted… and they were exploring them together.
******
This… this was everything Arabella had wanted and never expected. It was what she thought she’d given up when she’d trapped him into marriage. Perhaps one day she’d even admit to the deed, far, far in the future if she ran out of other ways to torment him which were more fun.
She couldn’t stop touching him—his chest, his shoulders, his stomach—half afraid he wasn’t really there, that if she stopped touching him he would disappear and turn into just another fantasy. The heat of his body reassured her, the hard thrusts of his cock made her moan with happy pleasure as her hips moved to meet him.
Every time he sank into her, she felt like she was claiming him, leaving her mark all over him—and her nails dug in to do just that in places. Thomas groaned, beginning to move faster and harder, his hands tightening in her hair, and Arabella gasped as she arched upwards, her lower body throbbing with growing ecstasy.
“Oh yes…” The words slipped from her mouth as their kiss ended, Thomas moving too fast, too roughly to maintain it. “Oh, Thomas…”
“Arabella… minx…” His voice was hoarse, his body contracting over hers as he plowed into her. The backs of her heels were digging into the backs of his thighs, giving her the leverage to lift her hips more fully, receive him completely. “Mine.”
Her nails dug into the flesh of his shoulders and Arabella cried out as he thrust hard, his body grinding against her swollen clit and sending a lance of ecstasy through her as her climax sparked. Wave after wave of rapture washed over her with every thrust of Thomas’ cock, leaving her writhing and moaning with the hot joy of it.
A few thrusts later he was uttering his own, growling completion as he hardened even more inside of her. She shuddered around him, her body clenching and milking him; each pulse of his cock inside of her filled her with liquid heat and left her feeling utterly satiated.
Both of them softened, his lips finding hers again as a kind of lassitude overtook them. Arabella kissed him back, tenderl
y, her fingers now smoothing over his skin in apology for the way she’d raked him with her nails. Although, he hadn’t seemed to mind.
Pulling away from the kiss for a moment, he looked down at her, his fingertips resting against her temples, his eyes scanning over her face like he was memorizing it.
“I love you,” she said, blurting out the words because now that she could say them aloud, she didn’t want to stop.
Thomas’ eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled down at her, lowering his head to rub his nose against hers. “And I love you, my little minx.”
Beaming up at him, Arabella couldn’t help but think—he claimed he could be happy spending the rest of his life trying to tame her and failing, but in many ways she felt like he already had.
******
Gathered around the dinner table, their group of friends was a glittering throng of happy faces. Even so, Thomas and Arabella still managed to stand out, their faces practically glowing with their joy, and the loving looks being passed between them were not missed by the others. Bypassing usual conventions, Eleanor had seated everyone next to their spouse rather than separating them. The arrangement didn’t stifle conversation at all—in fact, it rather improved it.
Although, within five minutes of the meal beginning, everyone who hadn’t been in the garden knew that Thomas and Arabella had left the garden rather precipitously. There were a few ribald suggestions as to why they might have done so—all of them very close to the truth.
Neither Arabella nor Thomas minded the teasing, although Benedict and Isaac both pretended not to hear those conversations.
After the first course, Edwin stood up at the head of the table. Immediately everyone quieted as he looked around, glass in his hand. He lifted it slightly.
“I would like to propose a toast.” Looking around the table he smiled as everyone raised their glasses as well. Dressed impeccably as usual, he looked every inch the lord of the manor. At his side, Eleanor beamed up at him, her crystal blue gaze filled with her love for him. “To good friends and the things which bind us together. And an especial congratulations and blessing upon Thomas and Arabella. May you find the same happiness the rest of us have, and may we all keep it, all the days of our lives.”
