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Authors: Grace Callaway

Her Husband's Harlot (39 page)

BOOK: Her Husband's Harlot
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When
he did not respond, her chin lowered. "Have I disgusted you, Nicholas,
with my wanton and immoral behavior? Are you disappointed that I am not the
virtuous wife you expected?"

A finger
tilted her chin up. The look of fierce tenderness in Nicholas' dark eyes robbed
her of breath. "You are far more than I could have ever expected. More
than I deserve. The woman I love with everything that I am."

Tears
welled in her eyes.

"Helena,
do you think you could ever ... forgive me?" Now it was his turn to falter,
an aching uncertainty in his tone. "I can make no excuses for my
infidelity. I can only say that it was my foolish intention to spare you from
my needs. After our wedding night, I could not bear the thought of hurting you
again. The truth is ... in my fantasies, I was making love to you." Taking
her hand, Nicholas placed it upon his chest. His heart thudded strong and
steadfast beneath her palm. "Could you believe me? Forgive me? Here, in my
heart, no other has ever existed but you."

Remembering
the way he had uttered her name in the depths of his desire, she nodded and said,
"And you could love me, knowing that I am a ...  harlot?"

In
answer, Nicholas caught her in his arms. She reveled in the familiar warmth of
his embrace and the whispered words against her hair. "Helena, don't you
know it is
you
, I love? Every part of you—my proper marchioness, brave, sweet
wife, seductress of my body and soul."

Joy
blossomed within her. "I do love you so, Nicholas. I—"

But
the time for talk was clearly over, for his lips claimed hers in a kiss more
passionate, more ravenous than she'd ever imagined. She responded with all her
heart. With all the loving desire she no longer had to hide.

TWENTY-EIGHT

 

Nicholas
set his wife on the carpet before the fire. Threading his fingers through her
silky ringlets, he feasted on the sight of her beloved face. No masks between
them. No ghosts. Her eyes glistened with tears. Edging away the beads of
moisture with his thumbs, he thought to say something, to express in some
eloquent fashion the soul-deep bliss he was feeling, but his throat constricted,
and no words came.

So, being
a man of action, he showed her. He worshiped the outer corner of her mouth with
his lips, loving the way it seemed to naturally tilt up, even in kissing. He
kissed the dip on her top lip, the luscious ledge of the lower, exploring the
landscape with reverence before seeking the sweetness within. He coaxed tongue along
the seam of her lips.

With
a small sigh, Helena acquiesced, and Nicholas entered like a starved man,
needing the sustenance of her taste, her honeyed flavor. When her tongue met
his, his hands clenched in her hair. He went deeper, thrusting inside her
mouth. He heard her excited purr, and he growled her name in answer. He
plundered her mouth, giving her no purchase, no means of escape.
She was his
.
He possessed her mouth with violent urgency and shuddered when her hands
clutched at his shoulders, drawing him closer still.

Soon,
the kissing wasn't enough. He had to have more of her. Looking down with
wonderment at her kiss-plumped lips, the sultry swirl of gold in her eyes, he
brought reverent fingers to her cheek.

"Helena,
my love," he said unsteadily, "I want you to know from now on that
things will be different between us. I would not hurt you for the world."

"Hurt
me?" Helena's gaze appeared unfocused, her eyes soft and blurry with
passion.

"I
know our wedding night was not a pleasurable experience for you. And at the
Nunnery—I did not make love as a gentleman ought." Nicholas ran a callused
fingertip along the delicate skin, riveted by the contrast of bronze against
white, hard against soft. "Not that it is any excuse, but I had not made
love to a lady before you."

His
wife blinked at him. "
You
were a virgin
too?"

At
that, he roared with laughter. He could not stop, even when his wife said in a
none-too-pleased tone, "What is so amusing?"

When
she began pushing on his shoulders, Nicholas caged her arms beneath his and
looked tenderly into her flushed, annoyed face.

"I
have been called many things, Helena, but never that," he said with a
grin. He pressed a kiss onto her forehead. "I meant I had never had
relations with a well-bred lady before. Of the other sort, I am acquainted."

"Oh."

Her
nose wrinkled, and her small huff of feminine jealousy made him feel
ridiculously proud. "That displeases you, madam wife?"

"Would
you
enjoy hearing about my dalliances with other men?"

"I
would kill anyone who touched you." The words came out fiercely, from a
dark primitive place inside him. "You are mine now, Helena, as I am yours.
I will never give you cause to doubt me again."

He
lowered his mouth to hers to seal the vow. Tonight, he was determined to properly
pleasure a lady.
His
lady. As he continued to explore the sweetness of
his wife's kiss, Nicholas ran light fingers over her shoulders and along the
clothed side of her breasts. Feeling her tremble, he carefully cupped one of
the full mounds, his groin tightening as the supple flesh overflowed his palm. He
squeezed gently, and when he was rewarded by a sprouted bud beneath the thin cloth,
he lowered his head, capturing the engorged nipple between his lips. He flicked
his tongue back and forth, dampening the material until her nipple stood
proudly visible.

Helena's
moans grew louder and more insistent. Taking that as a positive sign, he drew
down her bodice. Her breasts sprang free, so gorgeously full, the peaks so
deliciously pink that he wasted no time in tasting the offered bounty. He
trailed a hot, glistening trail from one nipple to the other. He felt a surge
of delight when Helena panted his name, and her fingers speared into his hair,
pulling his mouth closer, demanding more. He obliged her, her sounds of
pleasure making his cock twitch inside his smalls.

Easing
her onto her side, he rained kisses down her neck as his fingers worked on the
column of buttons down her back. Damn, but there was an army of infernally small
pearls, each one guarding the path to ecstasy. With a muffled curse, Nicholas
yanked the last ones free, ignoring the dull scatter of beads across the carpet.
He would buy her a new dress—a wardrobe of new dresses—just to get her out of
this one. When he finally managed to divest her of her gown and undergarments,
he lost all power of speech. He stared at his blushing wife as she laid there,
her lush white curves juxtaposed against the dark green carpet, a pagan dance
of firelight over her skin.

"By
God, you take my breath away." Running a possessive hand over her hip, he
let his eyes follow the creamy line of her legs all the way to the delicate
curls at the top. "I shall never tire of seeing you thus, my love."

He
watched in fascination as the blush moved all over her body. His wife ducked
her head into the crook of his shoulder, and for a moment he wondered if he had
offended her sensibilities with his ardent words.

Instead,
she whispered against his ear, "Nicholas, I should like to see you, too. I
didn't get the chance, not really, those other times."

Her
request sent a quiver through his body. Rising, he stripped off his clothes. Not
wanting to hide himself from her any longer, he stood there naked, his hands at
his sides. He saw her eyes widen as they took in his arousal. It was so fierce
that his cock curved upward, the bulging crown brushing his abdomen. His sac
throbbed with a heartbeat of its own. With held breath, he awaited her
response.

"Oh,
Nicholas," she breathed, "you are so
beautiful
."

With
a groan, he came to her, marveling at the perfect counterpoint between her
velvety lushness and his own rigid strength. As he kissed her, he learned the
delicate curve of her legs, the delightful dimples of her knees. His hands
wandered upward, glorying in the lack of impediment and the feel of skin upon
skin. God's blood, how long he had hungered to be with her thus, with nothing
between them.

Heady
with triumph, he combed through the silky curls of her mound. He coated his
fingers in the dew, rubbing it in small glistening circles over her swollen flesh.
His wife's hands grabbed at his shoulders as her hips arched in pleading
surrender. Obliging her silent demand, he carefully parted her and slipped a
finger halfway into her hole.

"Oh!"
Helena gasped.

Nicholas
gritted his teeth as her muscles tugged at his finger, drawing him in deeper.
He wanted to go slow, but her fiery throbbing was beginning to rob him of
control. When her pussy pulled at him again, he fed a little more of his finger
into her and then more until he was buried knuckle-deep in her wet heat. Watching
her flushed face, her half-lidded gaze, he felt near delirious with lust. He
began to move his finger.

Helena's
reaction was immediate. "Oh, my," she sighed. Her eyes closed as her
hips lunged helplessly against his touch. "That feels so very
good
..."

The
edges of his vision darkening, Nicholas watched his oh-so proper wife impale
herself on his hand, her juices flowing into his palm. He answered the tight,
desperate glide of her pussy by inserting another finger to join the first; her
whimpered cries expanded him with satisfaction. Delving into her luscious folds,
he found the little nub and circled it with his thumb. Helena stiffened, her
eyes rolling back as she let out a squeak. It was almost too much to bear. The
lust pounding through his veins fueled his head downward.

Her
initial inhalation melted into a long moan as he tenderly tongued her. The
salty sweet taste of her filled his senses as he fulfilled his long-held
fantasy of feasting upon her. Overcome with ravenous hunger, he licked and
sucked her sex, his breathing going raspy as she cried out his name. He could
not get enough of the womanly cream coating his lips and tongue. Exposing the
center of her pleasure, he lapped at the vulnerable bud, drawing circles that
drew sounds of delight from his wife. Egged on by the sudden tautness of her
legs, he suckled her, pulling with gentle suction.

Helena's
climax rocked him with unutterable joy and voracious lust. When she shuddered,
moaning as the spasms shook her body, he positioned himself over her and
entered in a thick, breathless glide. He held himself in rigid check, wanting
to allow her time to accustom to his invading thickness. The tight rim of her
stretched over his erection, and he closed his eyes, trying to ignore the siren's
call of silken muscles, the aftermath of her climax rippling around his shaft.

He
felt something flutter against the bunched muscle of his forearm. His lids
opened halfway to the sight of Helena looking languidly at him. He almost blew
his seed at the erotic sight of her tongue moistening kiss-swollen lips.

"It
is considered impolite to keep a lady waiting," his wife informed him in a
sultry tone.

Nicholas
made a sound, half laugh, half groan.

"I
shall endeavor to please the rules of etiquette, of course," he said and
began the torturous pleasure of withdrawing from her tight passage. He was
determined to go slow, be gentle, and see to her pleasure before his own.

When
he pressed in again, Helena arched to meet him, her eyes squeezing shut. Her cry
of delight ripped at his self-control. "Oh my. Nicholas, you make me feel
so ...
oh
..."

"Yes,
my sweet?" Sweat glazed his forehead as he slowly repeated the motion. Clenching
his jaw, he drew in and out of her intoxicating cunny with ruthless self-mastery.
"Do you like this?"

Her
lashes lifted, and the lustful, loving gleam in her eyes destroyed him. "I
love the feel of your big cock,
monsieur
," she whispered. "I've
dreamt of you taking me, not holding back, giving me everything you've got—"

For
him, the world went mad. With an inhuman roar, he drove himself home. All the way,
nothing held back. He encountered no resistance—only sweet, snug heat. Bliss
pulsed along his shaft, bubbling to the base of his spine.

"Like
my cock, do you wench?" he growled.

She
smiled at him, so radiantly that his heart skipped a beat. "
Je t'aime
.
Your cock and all the rest of you, my husband. Now will you please make love to
me?"

With
a groaning laugh, he gave into her. Into himself. The sure, strong strokes made
her sigh and him shudder with animal delight. Nothing had ever felt like this,
had even come
close.
Restraint shed from him, and in this new skin he
experienced a startling new vibrancy. He felt drunk with pleasure. Bathed in
it, joy overflowing every cell of his being. With each plunge, he sank deeper into
her loving heat, and still he needed to be closer. Could not get enough. Grasping
her knees, he pushed them forward, angling her pussy so that it surrendered
further to him, so that each pounding movement of his shaft grazed her sensitive
peak.

By
now, she was panting his name, her eyes dazed with ecstasy.

He
ground his hips, penetrating her so fully that his stones slapped the lips of
her sex. "Feel my cock." His head whirled at the sight of her pretty tits
bouncing with each thrust. At the perfect squeeze of her creamy cunt. Shutting
his eyes, he hissed, "Feel me inside you, loving you, a part of you."

BOOK: Her Husband's Harlot
3.54Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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