Claiming His Wife (12 page)

She cried out, her passion
muffled by his lips as he pressed her hard against the tree.
 Writhing, she could hear the rip of fabric as her dress tore
against the bark, and she didn't care.  It only excited her
more.  Ecstasy pulsed through her core as his fingers stroked
her insides, her hands clutching at him as her muscles went weak
with the overwhelming pleasure that sizzled along her body.
 Her ears filled with a roaring sound as she rode his hand, in
the middle of a garden, the excitement of their surroundings
enhancing her rapture.

When he withdrew his hand, letting her
skirts fall back into place, she moaned as he lifted his mouth from
hers.  Every inch of her skin felt like it was fizzing, like
the top of the glass of champagne, effervescence escaping the only
way it could.  Her knees were weak, too weak to hold her, and
she found herself sliding down the Earl's front until she was on
her knees in front of him.

Shocked that he'd let her fall, she
looked up at him in the darkness, just as the Earl's hand slid into
her hair and tilted her head even further back.  Her face was
shadowed, but he could still see her swollen, parted lips, as she
panted, and the creamy swells of her breasts hanging free of her
gown in the night air.  Wesley was too far gone to care about
propriety or being caught; he desperately needed relief after
having Cynthia writhing and moaning against him in such a wanton
manner.  

It was the work of a
moment to undo the front of his breeches, something he could easily
do with one hand, and then he was pressing the head of his cock
against her mouth. 

"Open," he hissed at her, his balls
throbbing with need as the softness of her lips pressed against his
sensitive tip.  "And don't use your teeth."

Wet heat surrounded him as he thrust
forward, one hand still tangled in her hair, using it to guide her
head, and he braced the other against the tree behind her so that
he could bend over and watch as she took his cock into her mouth.
 The shocked look on her face made him feel rampantly
possessive; it was obvious she hadn't done this before and he
relished the knowledge that he was the first - and only - man to
have her body.  Even if she'd flirted and played with danger,
she hadn't indulged.

She was his.  All his.  To
corrupt and play with, to mold and teach, and to conquer and claim.
 He was on fire for her, and he didn't think it would ever be
quenched; every touch only seemed to feed it, like the bellows of a
blacksmith.  Even when it was banked, the embers glowed,
waiting to be reignited to full strength.

Feeling the vibrations of
her moans traveling up the length of his cock, he had to stifle his
own groan as he began to thrust back and forth in her mouth.
 Her small hands pressed against his thighs; she didn't try to
push him away, she was bracing herself against him as he pushed
deeper.  

"Relax..." he murmured as
he felt her gag, the small muscles in the back of her throat
massaging the head of his dick.  He dug his fingers into the
base of her skull, massaging her scalp to help her follow his
order.  "Breathe through your nose, you're doing very
well."

At any other time, Cynthia might have
been insulted by his praise.  Especially when it came to men -
and the Earl in particular - she didn't want to do very well, she
wanted to be wonderful.  Perfect.  Unforgettable.
 But right now she was too busy trying to breathe without
choking.  

When Mr. Carter had suggested that she
use her mouth on him, this hadn't been quite what she pictured.
 This was much more raw, much more primal.  She felt
incredibly small and submissive, for the first time in her life, on
her knees before the Earl.  The desire to please him was
overwhelming, and not something she would have expected.  The
taste of male flesh was salty, musky, and had awakened a kind of
craving inside of her.  Her tongue explored the underside of
his cock, relishing the forbidden flavors, as tears smarted in the
back of her eyes from trying not to gag.

It was obvious the Earl was enjoying
using her mouth this way, and it was much less embarrassing and
painful than when he'd used her bottom.  Even though she was
becoming somewhat lightheaded, Cynthia was enjoying it too.
 The decadence of having her breasts exposed, the revelation
of the Earl's cock between her lips, the hunger she felt from him
even though his face was shadowed... and all of it tempered with
the knowledge that someone could walk by at any moment.  That
if they were seen, there would be no socially acceptable excuse for
what they were doing... it wouldn't ruin her reputation, but it
would certainly cause a scandal.

Cynthia had spent her life chasing the
forbidden, but she'd always drawn certain lines.  Now she
didn't have to; the Earl was drawing them for her and he was
putting them much farther out than she might have - if she'd even
had the knowledge.  She lived for excitement, adventure, and
the pleasures that came from disobedience.  The Earl had
brought entirely new avenues for all of those things into her
life.

"Suck, harder," he groaned, his
thrusts into her mouth becoming harder, going deeper.  The
fingers pressing into the back of her head actually did help keep
her relaxed, although she almost panicked when she first felt him
actually enter her throat. 

It was dizzying, exciting,
terrifying... she felt so small and vulnerable on her knees before
him, feeling his masculine strength and knowing that she could
choke on him... but she didn't bite down.  She tried to do
what he said, relaxing her throat and suckling on the thick rod
that was pumping between her lips.  Immediately she was
rewarded with a hoarse, low cry, and she felt him actually swell
larger.  

The soft skin on the underside of his
cock pulsed against her tongue and she tried to jerk back as
something hot slid down the back of her throat. 

"Swallow."

Not that he left her much of a choice,
his hand pressing firmly on the back of her head, holding her in
place as he emptied himself.  She could feel the pulsing of
each jet of liquid pressing down on her tongue, before her throat
tightened, convulsively swallowing the subsequent spurt.  The
Earl's tight grip on the back of her head began to loosen, his
breathing becoming ragged, and he softened inside of her mouth,
slowly shrinking in size.  Unsure of what to do, she continued
to suckle, gently sucking, fascinated by the way it felt as he
dwindled.  The hand holding her head began to caress her.
 Her pins had already mostly fallen out of her hair, leaving
the long strands tumbled down to her shoulders, and he ran his
fingers through it, humming low in appreciation.

Looking down at the young woman who
was still laving his cock with attention, Wesley had never felt so
damned lucky in his life.  Who knew that his ward would turn
out to be such a treasure?  He was glad that he hadn't
followed his original plan of foisting her off on some other sap.
 Cynthia was all his and he didn't have to share her with
anyone.

Gently, he moved to pull himself away
from her all too tempting mouth, aware that they'd probably
exceeded the amount of time they could reasonably spend in the
gardens without being caught.  They were only lucky that no
one had walked by while they'd been occupied.  

"Did I do it right?"  

Cynthia's sultry voice, tempered by
uncertainty, nearly made Wesley laugh aloud.  Little minx.
 Helping her to her feet, he looked down into her bright eyes,
which were peering at him as if searching for
clues. 

"Yes, baggage, that was delightful,"
he murmured, enjoying the look of pride and pleasure that lit up
her face.  Unable to help himself, he leaned down and took her
mouth in another kiss, taking the opportunity to caress her breasts
one last time as he tucked them back inside of her gown.  From
the way she murmured and squirmed against him, he was sure that, if
he'd wanted to, he'd be able to stoke the flames of her passion
again already.

Unfortunately, that wasn't
going to be possible.  

Pulling reluctantly away from her, he
realized that returning to the Assembly Rooms wasn't going to be
possible either.  He thought Cynthia looked delightful with
her swollen lips, tumbled hair and rumpled gown (which now also had
green stains at her knees), but no one else should see her like
this.  

"Come on, sweetheart," he said,
wrapping his jacket around her to hide the worst of the damage, and
wincing when he saw the tiny tears all over the back of her gown.
 Damn.  He was probably going to have to explain this to
his mother later, when she asked why he and Cynthia left early, and
if she heard about the state of Cynthia's gown, she'd never believe
whatever he came up with.  Maybe he could bribe the maids to
burn the thing and never mention it to his mother.

Sadly, that was doubtful.

Well, it's not like he wasn't going to
marry the chit.

A small smile curving his
face, Wesley led Cynthia out of the gardens and around the building
on the outside, keeping to the shadows.  Humming softly to
herself, she leaned into him, her fingers holding the edges of the
jacket closed at her chest, trusting him to lead her to the
carriage.  A strange sense of clairvoyance whispered up
Wesley's spine, as he suddenly realized that this would be his
life.  The life that he was meant to lead, with this brazen,
sensual woman at his side.  He could see them, walking just
like this, in old age.  Perhaps even after some fun ravishing
each other in the garden. 

At least, he was certainly determined
to be a randy old goat, and somehow he was quite sure that Cynthia
wouldn't object in the least bit. 

Grinning now, he held her even more
firmly to his side.  He couldn't wait to be
married.

******

"Does anyone know where Wesley and
Cynthia have gone?" Eleanor asked, looking around.  She was
utterly stunning in an ice blue gown that set off her eyes and her
golden hair.  

Grace fluttered her fan in front of
her face to hide her smile.  "I believe I saw them step
outside a few minutes ago," she murmured quietly.  "Probably
to explore the gardens."

Beside both of them, Edwin snorted and
Eleanor looked up at him and giggled.  "Oh dear."

"We could go explore the
gardens," he said, giving his wife a lustful look, his eyes
trailing over her cleavage.  Grace couldn't help it, she
tensed immediately.  She didn't want to ruin Eleanor and
Edwin's night, but at the moment, the presence of her friend was
all that was keeping her sane.

Because, unfortunately, she wasn't
having a nice coze in the corner with Nell and her husband.
 No, there was a fourth standing with them.  Silent.
 Watchful.  Standing far too close to her shoulder.
 And Grace desperately did not want to be left alone with him.
 She knew that Eleanor sensed that immediately, and she felt
both guilt and relief when Nell shook her head at Edwin and tapped
his chest reprovingly with her fan.

"Absolutely not, you reprobate,"
Eleanor said chidingly.

"But sweetheart, that's what you like
about me," Edwin said, his eyes darkening even further as he
grabbed Eleanor's hand and held it to his chest.  The look
that Eleanor gave back to him said that she'd love to go exploring
the gardens with him, but she still shook her head.  Grace
watched them rather wistfully, although she was sure that her envy
was hidden behind a suitably blank expression.

"We could go explore the gardens."
 Alex's deep voice rumbled in her hair, sending shivers
dancing up and down Grace's spine.  By the time she looked
over her shoulder at him to pierce him with an icy glare, she had
her reactions back under control.

She didn't say a word.  She
didn't need to.  The bastard just smiled at her, his eyes
glowing as they traveled down from her face and straight into her
cleavage.

Grace had dressed to impress tonight.
 She'd played up her creamy skin and dark hair with a rich,
ruby dress, trimmed with navy blue lace, to go with the sapphire
and rubies around her neck and in her hair.  The sapphires
were too dark to match her eyes, but she knew that she looked
stunning, nonetheless.  Alex hadn't been the only one looking
her over appreciatively this evening.

Not that any of the men who had come
forward had lingered.  Without saying a word, Alex's looming
presence had somehow gotten across the message that Grace was off
limits.  She wasn't entirely sure how he did it, but every
single man who approached walked away within a few minutes after
exchanging no more than a few pleasantries.  

Turning away from him, she tapped her
foot impatiently, only to realize that she was tapping in time to
the music.  Again.

"Dance with me, Grace."

She sighed.  All night Alex had
been asking and she'd been refusing.  This time, it sounded
more like an order than a request.  Maybe if she danced with
him, he'd leave her alone.

"Fine."  It wasn't the most
gracious answer, as she held out her hand, but Alex bowed over her
fingers anyway, entirely courteous, before leading her out onto the
floor.

Of course it was a waltz.
 He held her far too tightly, his hand splayed over her back
as he began to rotate, inserting them between the other couples,
masterfully maneuvering her around the floor.  Alex had always
been a wonderful dancer.  It felt like her skin was becoming
tight, having him touch her and hold her this closely.