A Lady And Her Magic (25 page)

Sophia squealed as Ashley scooped her up in his arms. “Put me down,” she cried.

“Not on your life,” he growled low in her ear. “I have waited for deaths, bereavement, negotiations, settlements, a wedding, and a party afterward, and I plan to wait no longer.” He kissed her soundly.

The door opened soundlessly at the little cottage by the river. “Magic?” he asked, raising his brows as he looked down at her.

She snorted. “More like a butler. Smythe, you can come out from behind the door!” she called. A cheeky, red-faced young man poked his head around the side of the door.

“Congratulations, Your Grace,” he said with a bow and a grin.

“Someone in the land of the fae respects a title,” Ashley mused. “I never would have expected it.”

“I respect your title,” Sophia said, as she tugged his cravat, bringing his head down to kiss her. When they were over the threshold, he lowered her feet slowly to the floor. She hadn’t been alone with him for a fortnight.

A cough behind them reminded them they weren’t alone now.

Ashley groaned in frustration. “Smythe, my fine fellow, I do hope I won’t offend you when I tell you to get the hell out.” He held Sophia close to him, as though he didn’t want to let her go.

“Not a bit, Your Grace. I have left provisions for you.”

Ashley looked around. “Where?”

Smythe’s face colored. “In the bedchamber, Your Grace,” he said, flushing even more.

“Perfect place,” Ashley murmured against her lips. “Where is this bedchamber, Smythe?” he asked. He cupped the side of Sophia’s face in his hand gently and tipped it up to his.

“Top of the stairs and to the right, Your Grace,” the butler said. He looked everywhere but at them.

“Good-bye, Smythe,” Sophia called to him. He made quickly for the door and was out it before Sophia could smother a laugh.

“You think this is amusing, do you?” Ashley asked as he spun her around and began to unfasten the back of her gown.

“Goodness, Ashley,” she teased. “I thought you might have some finesse.” She giggled. “Be careful with my gown,” she warned. “It was my grandmother’s.”

“And you looked beautiful in it. But I bet you will look even better out of it.” He laughed. Goodness, he was engaging when he laughed. It made her want to laugh along with him.

When he had her standing in nothing but her chemise, he picked her up in his arms again and started for the stairs. “I’ll use some finesse the second time. Or the third time. Or the fourth.”

Sophia threw her head back and laughed, swinging her feet in the air as he took the stairs two at a time. “Promises, promises,” she teased.

“Whose house is this?” he asked absently as he walked into the bedchamber.

She shrugged as she watched him disrobe. “Grandfather’s hunting lodge,” she said. He tugged off his cravat with no care whatsoever. “Simmons will be angry at you if you destroy all your clothing.”

“These aren’t mine, remember? And Simmons will be overjoyed when he learns that he gets to purchase a brand-new wardrobe for me. And one for the fish as well!” Ashley flung clothing with abandon until he finally stood before her in nothing but his smalls. His gaze was predatory.

“I wish we had a pianoforte so you could play for me,” she said, biting back a grin.

“A time like this and all you can think about is the pianoforte.” He jerked her to him quickly, which made her laugh even more. “I’ll play you like a pianoforte,” he warned as he tilted his head, growled into the side of her neck, and scrubbed her with his bristly evening whiskers.

His hands began to ruche the fabric of her chemise in his fingers, lifting the hem of it higher and higher until he stopped at her hips. He kissed her, a kiss that could have touched her soul if she wasn’t so nervous.

“Are you quite all right?” he asked, pulling back to look at her.

Sophia stepped onto her tiptoes and threaded her hands around his neck and into his hair. “Quite all right, Your Grace. But I’m wondering how much longer you’re going to play with my unmentionables.” She tugged lightly at his hair. “Take it off me, already,” she whispered against his lips.

With a low moan of contentment and a smile, he unthreaded her arms from around him, lifted the chemise over her head, and tossed it to the floor. Then he shoved his smalls down over his hips and stepped out of them. “Does that satisfy you, my duchess?” he asked. His hands crawled deliciously around to cup her bottom, and he yanked her against him.

“Do I look satisfied?” she asked playfully. His steely blue eyes darkened, the centers growing more prominent until his eyes were as dark as the shadowed room where they stood bathed in candlelight.

“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he crooned.

“Now you plan to wax poetic rather than take me to bed?” she asked.

He picked her up by her bottom, forcing her to wrap her legs around his waist, and he crossed to the bed. He fell onto it, landing on top of her with her legs wrapped around him. His hardness pressed against her heat and she rocked, trying to get closer to him.

“Do you know why I fell in love with you?” he asked, bending his head to take her nipple into his mouth.

“Goodness, Ashley,” she warned. “Let me concentrate on one thing at a time, will you?”

He stopped and lifted his head. “Will you give me grief for the rest of my life?”

She tugged lightly at his hair, pulling him back down to her breast. “Someone has to do it. Everyone else is afraid of the dangerous Duke of Robinsworth.”

“And…” He raised his head. “That. Is. Why. I. Love. You.” He punctuated his words with licks across her nipple.

“I’m not afraid of you.”

He growled low in his throat. “I could eat you in one big bite. I do save those for the noninnocents, you know.”

“So I have heard.” He began to kiss a slow path down her stomach, making it clench in anticipation. “What are you doing?” she asked as his head descended farther and farther.

“Devouring you,” he replied, his voice muffled against her skin.

“Ashley,” she cried as he spread her thighs even wider and settled between them. His thumbs parted her, and he gazed down at her. “Don’t,” she protested, mortified at his perusal. She shoved at his shoulders.

But then he licked across the center of her. “I bet I can change your mind,” he murmured as he slid two fingers inside her. It had been a fortnight since he’d taken her innocence, since he’d loved her so completely. But this was unlike anything they’d shared before. “Trust me,” he said, his voice buried in the heat of her.

Ashley’s tongue dipped, taking her to a place she’d never been. Her sheath clenched upon his fingers as he found that little ball of tension and began to worry it with his tongue. Sophia clutched the linens into her fists and lifted her legs more comfortably around his shoulders. “Ahh,” she cried out as he sucked that little nub of pleasure into his mouth and worked his fingers inside her. “Don’t stop!” she cried as sensation swelled within her.

He murmured something unintelligible from between her thighs.

Sophia arched to meet him, anxious to get to the peak. She threaded her fingers into his hair, pushing his head in a rhythm she liked. He drew deeper on her flesh and pierced her deeper with his fingers, scissoring his fingers and setting a rhythm better than any song he’d ever played for her. The crescendo swept over her, and she bucked against his hold as she quaked around his fingers. His mouth slowed only marginally, content to take everything she had.

His ministrations quieted, and she sagged against the linens, willing her breaths to slow. His beard stubble abraded her inner thigh as he wiped his mouth there, and then he climbed up her body. “Better than any pianoforte I ever played,” he said as he settled between her thighs. He raised one knee up toward her chest and then probed at her center. “Mine,” he said as he slid slowly inside her.

***

Ashley slowly joined himself with her, inch by exquisite inch, and grunted when he was fully seated within her. Her cheeks were rosy with heat, and her body loose and languid from her climax. He would have to work to bring her another. But he was up for the challenge.

“Yours?” she asked playfully, her voice deepened by passion, sliding along his skin like silk.

“Mine,” he grunted as he pulled out of her and pushed back inside, taking as much of her as he could. Her back arched and she tilted her hips, taking even more of him.

“Such prolific words from you,” she teased, but her breath hitched as he adjusted her hip. God, he loved the noises she made.

“Did you want a soliloquy? I just gave you a song.” He stopped moving for a moment and lowered her leg, allowing himself to lie atop her. “God help me, woman,” he groaned. He wanted to spill himself already.

He rolled, pulling her atop him in the bed. She squealed playfully and stretched along his length. He was barely inside her now, and the silken hot wetness of her called to him. He kicked her legs apart with his own and tugged her knees forward until she straddled him.

He lifted, taking the tip of her breast into his mouth as he fitted her more snugly on his manhood. She surrounded him with heat. Now, as long as she didn’t move, he wouldn’t spend himself. But then she did. “Blast and damn,” he grunted.

She stilled, looking down at him with a grin. “Is something wrong?” She squeezed her wetness upon him, tormenting him anew. She began to rock her hips ever so slightly.

He turned his head and thought about Finn. About a rack of lamb. About his garden. But all thoughts led him back to Sophie. He drew his gaze back to her, and she pushed up to sit atop him with her hands flat on his chest, her elbows locked.

“I find myself in a bit of a predicament,” he squeaked. He cleared his throat. “I need but a moment. For you to be still.” He grabbed her hips and held them, but her sheath milked at him, pulling him deeper and deeper into her body.

She smiled a siren’s smile. “You poor thing,” she crooned. Then a gasp left her throat as she raised herself slightly.

“Let me see your wings,” he begged.

She stilled. “My wings?”

“Your wings,” he said again, heedless of the panting sound of his own breath. “Let me have all of you this time.”

She moved on him slightly. “I think you already have all of me. Or I have all of you.” She laughed, which only exacerbated his need to finish.

“Let me see them. Let me touch them. Let them be part of us,” he pleaded.

She stilled, thank heavens, and closed her eyes. She waited but a moment, and then her wings appeared. They were the color of her flushed skin, a dusky rose color, interlaced with a pearly color the same as the skin of her breasts. He reached out a hand to touch the silky little hairs that stood at attention on the rims of her wing. They glittered like diamonds, like a banked fire. “Don’t touch,” she said, jerking out of her grasp. “They’re very sensitive,” she reminded him.

He took her hips and pulled her firmly onto his manhood. “So is that,” he warned.

She just grinned, and one wing arched toward him. “You can touch it, if you can be gentle,” she whispered.

The edges of the bottoms of her wings tickled his thighs, but it took his mind off his need to spend, at least.

He reached out one hand, only mildly annoyed to see his hand betray him as it quivering there in midair. When he touched the edge of her wing, she let out a hiss. Her mouth fell open. “I told you they’re sensitive,” she cried.

He moved his other hand to heat between her legs. “More sensitive than here?” he asked. He knew it was naughty, but he couldn’t help it.

“Very much like there,” she cried, as he caressed the outside of her wing, lightly stroking the length of it. “I thought I was done after the last one,” she cried.

“You were wrong?” he asked with delight. She swatted at his chest rather playfully, but then she began to move upon him. “I’ll never be done with you.”

As he stroked those fine little edges of her delicate wings, she rose and fell on him, her head thrown back in abandon, her breath hitching with every down stroke. She ground herself upon his pelvis, rocking just where she needed.

As she got closer to her peak, he forced himself to wait. She rode him, rising and falling, and sparks began to fall around them, drifting like snowflakes floating to the ground. They filled the air around them. “What is that?” he was able to ask.

“Magic,” she laughed. “We are magical.” She ground her hips against him and squeezed, which took his mind off the sparks.

Ashley brought the tip of her wing to his mouth and tongued it gently.

“Ashley, I can’t wait,” she cried. Her movements grew erratic, and he could tell she fought to maintain her perch upon him with her legs quivering, her arms shaking.

He took her hips in his hands and took over. She arched her back and cried out, then locked her arms and rode out her climax. The air filled with shooting sparks that shot across the room like stars as she came. Then he came with her, and as he soaked her walls, grunting with satisfaction as he screwed into her, the shower only got more heavenly.

She rode him until they both were spent. Then she collapsed onto his chest, sliding in the sweat between them. He brushed her hair to the side to look at her face as she placed a quick kiss to the patch of hair on his chest. “That was magic?” he managed to grunt.

“That was us,” she affirmed with a nod, her cheek sliding in the sweat against his chest. She didn’t seem to care. He could feel her smile against his skin. The sparks began to fade.

“Good God, woman. I never imagined.”

“Neither did I,” she said. He slipped out of her as she nestled into his side. Then her wing came up to cover them both like a soft, light counterpane. And she slept.

Ashley wrapped Sophia in her dressing gown, pulling it closed with a heavy sigh. “What’s wrong?” she asked, tugging the lapels of his own gown and drawing him back to her.

“I quite like you naked,” he said with a grin. He tugged her dressing gown back open quickly and pressed a kiss to the center of her chest. “I plan to keep you naked a lot.” Then he closed her wrapper and stepped back from her. He sat down at a tiny table in their bedchamber and lifted a scone to his mouth. His appetite for her was only seconded by his appetite for sweets.

A quick knock sounded at their door. “Enter,” he called absently as he opened his newspaper.

Sophia looked up to see Lady Anne as she entered the room. Holding tightly to her forefinger was their newest addition. “Margaret said it was all right to bring her to you,” Anne said, somewhat reserved.

“It’s always all right to bring her to me,” Sophia said as she bent to pick up the youngest Trimble girl. She crawled atop the bed and beckoned Anne to join her. “What are your plans for today?”

But then, the sound of running feet in the corridor caught her attention. “Just when we thought it was safe to come out of the nursery,” Anne groaned.

Through the door tumbled a dark-haired boy, their son and Ashley’s heir. He was the spitting image of his father. He wore a billowing shirt and wielded a large stick he swung like a sword. Margaret followed him into the room. “Sorry, Your Grace. He got away from me.”

“He seems to do that a lot,” Ashley said, shooting his son a harsh glance. But the tot only squealed and wrapped his arms around his father’s legs. Ashley picked him up and tossed him atop the bed with his sister. And his mother. Sophia rolled to the side, protecting her stomach from flailing legs as Anne tickled her little brother, making him squeal and roll around. “Careful,” Ashley warned. The lad stilled. “Careful of the baby.”

“Baby,” the littlest Trimble repeated. She had no idea what she said, but she repeated nearly everything.

“It’s better than that word she repeated of yours the other day,” Anne teased. Anne laid her hand upon Sophia’s belly. “Do you think this one will be a boy or a girl?” she asked reverently.

“Definitely a boy,” Ashley said.

“Do you think this one will be magical?” Anne asked. She’d been somewhat relieved that the first two Trimble children weren’t magical, from what Sophia could tell.

Ashley rubbed his hand down her hair. “All of our children are magical,” he said as he bent and kissed her forehead.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Anne said. She reached for the baby girl and passed her to Margaret. Then she picked up the lad and said, “Let’s go and find some pirates to slay, shall we?”

He nodded enthusiastically and let Anne carry him from the room, with Margaret quickly pursuing them. Ashley rolled toward Sophia and opened her dressing gown. He pressed a kiss to the side of her huge belly. It rippled with a kick. He was always enamored of their children from the moment of their conception. It pleased her to no end. “Do you think this one will be fae?” he asked.

Somewhere deep inside, Sophia did want to have a child who was fae. She was quite happy with the three she already had, and they were magical in their own right, but having a little girl or boy with pointy ears and a penchant for good deeds would please her greatly. “Who can say?” she asked with a breezy wave.

Ashley crawled slowly up her body, parting her dressing gown with his teeth and baring her skin as he went. He plumped her breast in his hand and groaned, “I love it when you’re like this.”

She laughed and shoved ineffectually at his hand. “You must, because I seem to keep getting this way.” With a gentle shove to his shoulder, she tossed him onto his back and crawled over him. She opened his robe as reverently as he’d opened hers. “I plan to use you well this day, my husband,” she warned playfully.

“I am at your disposal,” he said, laying his hands to the side as though in surrender.

As she crawled atop him, she scolded, “Whoever gave you the name of the dangerous Duke of Robinsworth couldn’t have been further from the truth.”

He laughed. “I’ll show you dangerous if you keep doing that.” She kissed her way down his flat stomach. It clenched beneath her lips.

“Promises, promises,” she breathed. But then she looked up suddenly. “Have you heard from Lord Phineas or Claire?”

“God, woman, at a time like this, you’re thinking about Finn and Claire?” he groaned, yanking at his hair.

“I’m just curious to know how their mission is going.”

“Just the thought of Finn and Claire on a mission terrifies me.”

“Who knows? They might rub along together as well as we do.”

“Somehow, I highly doubt that.” He tipped her chin up to look into her eyes. “Get back to what you were doing,” he scolded gently with a wicked smile.

So she did.