Loving Lord Ash (38 page)

“No. Forget the clothes.” She glared at him. “Just do it. Now.” Zeus, she was going to go mad if he didn’t do something immediately.

The blackguard grinned, though he did sound a bit breathless. “I’m afraid I cannot accommodate you, Lady Ashton. I may not be experienced in marital matters, but I do know a woman’s first time can be painful—and messy. Think of dear Mrs. Watson’s dismay if we stain the settee.”

“I don’t care about Mrs. Watson.”

“You know, I suddenly realize I don’t care about her either, but I’m still not going to take you on this very uncomfortable settee.” He pulled her up to stand with him. “How much do you love this dress?”

“Very much.” Why was he wasting time talking about her dress? It was very much in the way.

“Shall I remove it carefully? Or shall I tear it off?”

The servants would be scandalized and a beautiful gown would be ruined. “Tear it off.”

Kit didn’t actually tear the fabric, but a number of buttons were sacrificed without compunction. Her stays and shift followed in short order. Then he held her away from him and just looked.

She felt so hot, she suspected her clothes would have burned off her if Kit hadn’t already removed them.

“God, Jess. You’re beautiful.”

“And you’re handsome. Now hurry up and take me to bed.”

He laughed and scooped her up, turning—

“Damn.”

“What?” She looked at the bed and saw the problem. Damn indeed. “Fluff! Get down.”

Fluff gave her a piteous look, but she was completely unmoved. “Go over to the hearth.”

Fluff looked at Kit.

“Sorry, my friend, but I’m not sharing my marriage bed with another male—and such a hairy one at that. You need to go.”

Fluff sighed and moaned a little, but he dragged himself off the bed and slowly walked over to the fire, the picture of a dog much put upon. He stretched out, propped his head on his front paws, and gazed mournfully at them.

“Poor Fluff.” She did feel just a
little
bad....

“Don’t even think about inviting him back.”

“Oh, I won’t. I—
eek!
”

Kit dropped her on the bed and then joined her. She reached for him, but he propped himself up on one elbow, took her hands, and held them against his chest.

“I’m sorry I waited eight years to resolve the problem of our marriage, Jess.”

Damnation, was Kit going to start castigating himself again? That was not going to soothe the insistent ache between her thighs. “Then please don’t wait eight more years. In fact, don’t wait eight more seconds. I am in dire need of some resolution.”

He smiled. “You know I don’t have any experience—”

“Then for God’s sake, come get some.” Ah, perhaps she saw the way to urge him into action. She slid her hand down his body to his most prominent organ.

It jumped in welcome.

“Oh, no, you don’t.” Kit pulled her hand away from its prize.

“But you like it.”

“Yes, but now it’s my turn.” His mouth came down on hers.

Oh! His touch made the fire in her roar even higher. She arched into him. She wanted to get closer.

His thumb flicked over her hard, tight nipple.

Sensation shot directly from her breast to the place between her thighs. Her hips twisted; her hands slid down his back.

His mouth moved to her jaw, her throat, and finally her breast.

She moaned and grabbed his head to keep him there. Her hips bucked with each rasp of his tongue, each pull on her nipple. She panted and whimpered.

What if someone hears me?

The thought whispered through her overheated mind. She didn’t care. She couldn’t. She was too focused on the tiny point Kit’s tongue had touched on the settee, that his finger had first found on that sagging mattress at the White Stag. She desperately needed him to touch her there now.

His hand slid down her side, closer, closer.

“Please. Oh, Kit. Please.”

He answered her prayer. His finger found her.

She thought she would die of pleasure.

Only not quite yet. Her body tightened with each light, teasing touch. Kit was drawing her closer to where he’d taken her at the inn. Closer. Closer. She was almost there....

“You’re so wet.” His words whispered over her skin. “I want to taste you again.”

His body left hers. It was cold without his weight. She reached to pull him back—and then his tongue took the place of his finger, slipping over the hard point.

“Ohhh!”

Her hips tried to arch, but Kit held her still while his tongue touched her again, probing, sliding....

She panted faster, grabbing the bedclothes. She was almost there.

And then his tongue rasped over her once more, and she screamed, almost sitting up as wave after wave of intense pleasure broke through her.

She collapsed, completely sated.

Kit looked down at Jess, sprawled wantonly on his bed. He felt a flicker of pride at how he’d caused her to lose control.

But the pride was almost immediately drowned by desire. It was his turn. His time to finally shed his virginity. His cock was most insistent on the matter.

He fit himself between Jess’s legs and touched her entrance. He had to go slowly, for her and for him. He didn’t want to rush. He wanted to feel every inch as he slid deep inside her.

Mmm. She was so tight and warm and wet. The sensations threatened to overwhelm him, but even though he was a virgin—for a few more seconds—he was not a boy. He had some control.

Still, the experience was far more intense than he’d imagined, and he’d imagined it too many times to count, usually with his hand around his cock. Jess’s body was so much better than that. That had been a solitary, physical thing. This was the exact opposite. It was deeply, soul-wrenchingly intimate.

“Oh!” Jess flinched.

He stopped. “Are you all right?”

She grinned up at him and ran her hands over his back. “Yes, but I’m not a virgin any longer.”

He kissed her and pushed forward, sliding all the way into her so his entire length was embraced by her warmth. “And neither am I.”

His body was screaming at him to move, but he held still a moment longer and kissed Jess slowly and thoroughly, savoring her taste. “I love you, Jess.”

She smiled at him, holding his face in her hands. “And I love you, Kit.”

He let his happiness at her words wash over him before he gave in to the insistent need and moved, in and out and in again, as close to her heart as he could go, his seed and his love flowing into her, into Jess, his friend and, at last, his wife.

Jess was glad her madness had passed so she could concentrate on the feel of Kit inside her: the slide of his cock, the slickness of his back, the tension of his muscles, of his face, and then, at last, the warm wash of his seed flooding her womb. Her heart.

She felt very married, and very, very happy.

He collapsed onto her, and she held him close.

“I’m too heavy for you.”

He was, but she would never say it.

He lifted his body off hers, and then gathered her into his arms, close against his side. “I wish we hadn’t waited eight years to do that.”

“Mmm.” She stretched against him. She was sore in new places. “We’ll just have to make up for lost time.”

“Yes, we will.” He brushed his lips over her forehead. “Are you all right?”

“I’m splendid.”

“But sore?”

She laughed. “Splendidly sore.” She snuggled closer. “And I’m afraid there will be some blood on your sheets.”

He didn’t look happy to have her virginity confirmed. “I’m sorry. It does seem unfair men don’t also have to suffer their first time.”

Yes, it was unfair, but life wasn’t fair, was it? She kissed his chest. “And was your first time all you’d hoped it would be?”

He grinned. He looked as happy as he had as a boy. “Yes.” He kissed her forehead. “And I am so glad it was with you.”

Fluff snorted in his sleep, and they both laughed.

“Say, are you going to show me the sketchbook Trendal kept talking about?”

She hesitated. She’d never shown those drawings to anyone—but she had nothing to hide from Kit now. “I’m too warm and cozy to get it.”

“I’ll get it.”

“Very well. It’s in the bottom of the wardrobe.”

She watched him cross the room. It was cold without him next to her, but he did have a lovely arse—and he was back in just a moment.

He propped the pillows on the headboard, and she cuddled up against his warm side, her head on his shoulder. He opened the book and turned the pages. She waited somewhat anxiously for his reaction. He looked surprised. Would he be embarrassed? Horrified?

“Good God, Jess. They are almost all of me.”

“Yes. You were always my favorite subject.” There was a sketch of the day she first saw him drawing by the river and another of him building a snow castle and another of him riding through the fields and another—

She blushed.

“You seem to have left some crucial parts in shadow.” He was laughing again.

“My imagination couldn’t do you justice.” She slid her hand down to cup one of those parts, which blossomed under her fingers.

Kit was still smiling, but his gaze had sharpened.

“I think I can do a better job now.” She stroked him. “In fact, I’m looking forward to it.”

He put her sketchbook on the bedside table, blew out the candle, and then wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. “And I’m looking forward to it as well.”

Epilogue

Children grow so quickly.

—Venus’s Love Notes

A year and a half later . . .

The Earl of Morane sucked on his father’s cravat.

“Nate is hungry, Jess.” Kit sniffed his son’s posterior. “And he needs a change of clothes.”

Jess laughed. “Nate is always hungry, and he always needs a change.” She sat in her favorite chair and extended her arms. “Here, give him to me.”

Nate heard her voice and started to fuss.

“Gladly, since I cannot satisfy his needs.” Kit placed the infant safely in Jess’s hands.

“And since he’s quite smelly.” She opened her gown, and Nate dove for her breast. “You’d think the poor baby was starving, and I fed him less than two hours ago.”

“He’s growing.”

“Mmm.” Jess looked down at Nate’s beautiful fuzzy head as he began to suck. She felt the pull of his tiny mouth all the way to her heart. To think such a short time ago she’d been alone and desperately lonely, and now she had this precious child and her husband by her side and in her bed every night—and in her body many of those nights, now that she’d recovered from her lying-in. Not to mention she also had a mother-in-law and father-in-law and brothers-in-law and sisters-in-law and two nephews. She was suddenly surrounded by family.

She looked up at Kit: he was staring at Nate. His face held the same wonder hers must.

And his cravat was sadly bedraggled.

“You’d best change as well before we go downstairs.”

He looked in the mirror and started to undo his cravat. “It’s wasted effort, you know. I will look like I’ve been attacked by wild animals moments after we arrive in the parlor.”

She laughed and put Nate to her shoulder. “They are only babies, Kit, and only Ned’s son can move around. Wait until they are older. Your mother says that is when the damage will really begin.” She patted Nate’s back, and he let out a very loud, extremely inelegant belch.

Kit glanced over, looking absurdly proud. “That’s my boy.”

“Do not brag about this to your brothers!” She put Nate to her other breast. It was wonderful that they all had sons about the same age—and she loved having Ellie and Frances to talk to about child rearing—but the men sometimes became a bit competitive.

“He has strong lungs, as befits the future Duke of Greycliffe.”

“I shall remind you of that the next time he’s crying inconsolably.”

“Thank God that doesn’t happen often. Has he finished his meal?”

“He’s digesting.” A fact confirmed by another loud, rather ominous sound emanating from Nate’s nether regions. “Now he is definitely in need of a change. Hold him for me while I get some clean clothes.”

Kit held the poor baby at arm’s length, but Nate just laughed and wiggled.

“Isn’t this a job for his nurse?”

“Don’t be silly. I like changing him.” She laughed at Kit’s expression. “Just wait until he’s on solid foods. Ellie says then I’ll want to hand him off to Anna.”

Kit’s nose wrinkled. “Spare me the details, please.”

He laid Nate down so Jess could remove the baby’s dirty clothes.

“Are you ready to see your cousins and grandmamma and grandfather, Natey boy?” Kit said in the high, sing-songy voice adults use to talk to babies.

Nate gurgled and laughed and waved his hands and legs.

“He does like his daddy, doesn’t he?” Jess said, turning away to put the soiled laundry well out of reach. She’d once made the mistake of keeping it beside Nate when changing him, and he’d managed to get his hand in the dirt.

“Yes, he does.” Kit sounded so happy, so different from the man who’d come upon her with Roger at Blackweith Manor.

She smiled. She had indeed painted Kit naked, many times, in that studio—and he had painted her, even when she was nine months pregnant. She hadn’t realized how sterile her paintings had become until she was painting again with her heart. She—

“Ack!”

She spun around to see Kit using the end of his cravat to stanch the healthy stream little Nate was producing, a predictable reaction of a naked baby boy left uncovered.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I—” And then she was laughing too hard to say anything else.

Nate squealed and laughed, too.

“He’s very proud of himself,” she said, kissing Kit as she brought Nate his clean clothes.

Kit chuckled. “Yes, I can see that.” He kissed her back. “I believe I should change my cravat again.”

The Duchess of Love paused in the doorway to the blue parlor.

“Happy, my dear duchess?” the duke murmured, coming up behind her and wrapping his arm around her waist.