The Seduction of His Wife (35 page)

“What are you about?”

Instead of answering, she licked his cock from his sac all the way up to the tip. This would not be easy on her knees. He was simply too big. She stood and pressed her fingers into his torso, making him walk backward as she advanced.

She didn’t know what came over her. She’d never dared to act so forward, so in control. She’d not hand over the reins now that she had them firmly in her grasp.

Richard stopped at the bed. Eyes feasting on her feminine wares. She stood still for his inspection. Savoring the moment. It was a powerful feeling being wanted so desperately by a man.

“I can see your mount of Venus tickling the material softly between your thighs. I wonder if I’ll find it dewy.” He licked his lips with the suggestion.

Her nipples peaked to firm points. Unbidden, a half moan, half squeak escaped her mouth at the naked desire in his perusal.

She wanted to press her naked body against his. Rubbing and sating their flesh with touch and taste. What a beautiful man he was. All sleek hardness, an athletic, lean build promising strength, stamina. Pleasure. So much pleasure.

She took another step toward him. The tip of her lace-covered breasts brushed against his bare chest. She resolved then that she’d put shyness on the shelf for the evening and learn her husband’s body as he had learned hers: with her hands, her lips, her tongue.

With a light kiss to his mouth, she pushed him back on the bed. He pulled her down on top of him, refusing to release her mouth for a gentle sweeping of his tongue. His fingers were busy pulling the silk garment she wore up her legs, her buttocks, her back. He held it there in his fists waiting for her to decide what to do.

She broke the kiss so he could remove the negligee. Before he could take possession of her mouth again, she scooted slowly down on her knees so she could feast on his cock with her eyes and her mouth. She sucked the head of his instrument into her mouth, laving around it with her tongue.

The head of his cock emitted a pearly drop of semen. She ran her tongue over that slit, massaging it with the edge of her tongue and then flattening her tongue against the smooth skin and sucking him farther into her mouth.

A moan escaped her as she took him in deeper. Richard let out a groan and pressed his hand to her head, urging her on. Urging her to suck him in faster and deeper. She rode his length with her mouth, her hand fisting the base of his cock as she did so. Her fingers explored the soft skin it stroked, then she rolled the balls in his sac together. The sac tightened in her hold.

“Emma. Come off me.”

She shook her head. She liked this too much to stop. He liked it, too, if the thrusting of his hips was anything to judge by.

“I’ll not come in your mouth.” He sat up and pulled her up off his cock.

She pouted out her bottom lip. He nipped at it. Flipping her to her back, he bit the side of her breast, sucked in her nipple, and thrust his fingers inside her core. She felt her own wetness coating her thighs.

His rod soon replaced his fingers and he rode her hard and fast. One of his hands wrapped around her hair, pulling it so tight in his fist that her head arched back. His other hand squeezed her buttock so hard she was sure she’d have an imprint of his hand there come morning.

She reached around to hold him close, grasping his buttocks. They flexed in her hands with each push forward into her sheath. She felt her orgasm. It was so close she grasped the cheeks of his rear tighter. She wanted him deeper.

“Harder. Oh, God, harder,” she moaned.

Richard’s mouth caught hers in a fierce kiss as he drove into her harder. Just as she’d begged.

Her body strained against his, needing to be closer, needing something more when finally she exploded. A spurt of fluid rushed from her; she felt it coating him and her thighs, dripping between her buttocks. He shouted out his release soon after. His weight did not fall down on her. He held himself above her, let go of her hair, and kissed her gently, tenderly on the mouth.

Pulling his cock from her body, he rolled to his side and gathered her close. She felt like she belonged in his arms. This felt right having him here, in her bed, beside her, holding her.

She had to bite her cheeks so she didn’t utter any words she’d regret come morning. It was still too soon to tell him how she really felt. To tell him that she loved him. Had always loved him.

Her head rested on his arm, and she closed her eyes.

Richard tucked her hair behind her ear, kissed her temple, and said, “Good night, love.”

She held that endearment close in her heart as she snuggled her rear closer to him. He had a tendency to use endearments with her. Whether he meant them or not, she couldn’t be sure. But she’d cherish every one as if it were the most precious word uttered to her.

Chapter 23

How long is one expected to remain true to another person? How long is one expected to live a lonely existence?

Emma had squirreled herself away in her study the moment Grace left to visit with a friend. Her husband had gone out with Dante a couple of hours ago to finalize some business arrangements, or so he had told her. She had a sneaking suspicion he headed over to the duke’s house for a talk about the paintings.

It was imperative that Richard never find out about the two nudes she’d done of herself. Uncovering that lie would put a wall between her and Richard. She didn’t know why she thought that, she just did. She’d have to send a note to Nathan, beg him to hide those paintings and ensure they were never leaked out into society.

Rubbing away a crumbling of charcoal on her newest sketch, she smoothed out some of the shadows on the paper. The picture she worked on was like a headless statue, the rendering similar to Richard’s physique. She’d have to alter it when she was done so he wouldn’t recognize it outright. Though she couldn’t wait to see his expression when he realized it was him.

She smiled. What other man did she have at her disposal for such a thing? None. He’d grumble and posture with her when he discovered this. She wouldn’t hide it from him.

The door creaked open behind her. Blowing the loose black from the picture’s surface away, she cleared her throat. “Luncheon already, Brown?”

She turned around in the wide leather chair she’d pulled up to the worktable. Her skirts tangled around her legs as she tried to get out of the seat and put herself at a safe distance from Waverly. How had he gotten into her home? There had been guards stationed inside the front entrance since their arrival a couple of days ago.

“Where is Brown?”

Waverly shrugged and came farther into the room. “What have we here?” He slid the paper across the desk so he could study it. “How does your husband feel about you drawing naked men now?”

Emma squared her shoulders and stood as tall as she could. She had to put her nervous, trembling hands behind her back.
Show no weaknesses,
she reminded herself.

“How did you get in?” she asked, edging out of his reach and closer to the door.

“I have my ways.”

Waverly balled up the picture she’d been working on and threw it to the floor.

His gaze met hers.

“If you need to speak with Richard, he will be home shortly.”

She had no idea if that was the truth or not. What she did know was that she needed to put a safe distance between her and the intruder standing across from her.

He stood by the chair she’d vacated moments ago, his hand squeezing around the top edge.

“You know, Richard never said you were a pretty creature, not in all our years together. I was surprised to see him act so protective of you. He must not know your dirty secrets.”

“He knows everything. You are not a threat.”

“You are a means to an end, dear Emma. Nothing more than a means to an end.”

Emma’s skirts hit a table near the chaise longue. She nearly toppled over the table beside it to escape Waverly’s reach. A chair crashed to the floor when she tried to grab it. The crystal ware she swept off the table next to the chair fell to the ground and bounced away with only a slight ringing noise. She scanned her periphery, afraid to take her eyes off Waverly. She needed something to throw, something breakable. She needed to make noise for anyone to come to her aid.

“Stop this,” she shouted.

He rushed toward her and yanked at her arm painfully as he pulled her nearer. She tried to squirm from his grip, but Waverly’s arms were wrapped solidly around her. She tried again to pull away from him. She could not loosen the man’s forceful clutch as he turned her about so her back was to his chest. He pressed a cloth firmly over her mouth and nose.

She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out. She bit down on his hand, tasting the man’s blood before she fell heavy as stone in his hold with a sharp smell stinging her nostrils. Her last thought was of Richard.

*   *   *

Richard’s old business was now completely in the hands of Heyworth: the fleet of ships, the deeds for the shipping docks, the plantation in India. All of it was finally gone. The money had been split amongst him and his two business partners, which included Waverly.

Though Waverly hadn’t been present for the final sign-off, he’d sent his man of business to take care of loose ends.

Richard had had his solicitor invest his funds into the rail. He wasn’t surprised when Dante followed suit. The man had a reason to visit England often with his bride-to-be.

All said and done, they mounted their horses and wound their way through the city streets.

“I need a favor,” Richard said.

He could trust Dante with his wife’s secret. The man was steadfast and reliable. Had been for all the years Richard had worked with him.

“Something with Waverly?”

Richard shook his head. “I need to visit the Duke of Vane. He has something that belongs to me.”

“And what is this thing that should belong to you?”

The cautious tone of voice Dante used made Richard wonder if his friend thought that
object
might be his wife. Definitely not the case after all that had happened between them. All they’d shared with each other. The last few nights in bed had been different. More tender. More about sharing each other than using each other for pleasure.

“My wife likes to create ribald paintings. The duke has been selling them for her. I plan to retrieve the ones still in his possession.”

“Your wife asked this of you?”

No, it wasn’t something Emma had asked for, but she’d thank him sometime in the future for the lengths he planned to go to retrieve the art. To make sure her secret remained just that … a secret. Dante chuckled when Richard made no response other than to scowl.

“My guess is that your wife does not want them back.”

“I’m so easy to read?”

“Only where Lady Emma is concerned.”

That was because he was besotted with his wife.

On arriving at the duke’s residence, they were situated in a room better suited for a brothel. Large gilt mirrors hung on three of the gold-papered walls. A massive crystal chandelier hung down in the center of the room. Two rose-colored chaises and two deep red settees made up the sitting area. It was gaudy and overdone. What made the room, though, were the handfuls or so of paintings of the duke’s mistress. All were nude, all in various erotic poses.

Dante walked around the periphery of the room and looked thoughtfully at each piece, thumb and forefinger rubbing at his jaw. Richard didn’t care to study any of the art. But the longer he was made to wait, the more he’d come to the realization that the duke was rubbing in the fact that he was in possession of some of his wife’s paintings.

Did Vane flaunt these paintings to everyone who came through the house? He doubted it. Despite the duke’s long
relationship
with his mistress, it seemed she was nothing more than a pretty ornament.

When the door opened to the parlor, Vane came in with his mistress on his arm. She wore a navy dress so low-cut that he could see the pink of her areolas. Her blonde hair tumbled down her back in a riotous flow of curls. No embarrassment tainted her cheeks. No smile lifted her lips as she held her head high and licked her lips in sensual invitation.

Had she been trained to play the role of Venus? Was this inappropriately beautiful woman on the duke’s arm part of the man’s image? Richard almost pitied the woman.

Almost.

The duke twirled her away from him, so she lay reposed on one of the chaise longues, like a Greek goddess, they as supplicants to her every bidding.

Richard broke eye contact with the woman, and narrowed his gaze on the duke. Richard understood why the man’s mistress was present. She provided a distraction to probably many a man. That tactic might have worked on him before he’d come home to his wife. Not now.

Richard sneered at the duke. “You know why I’ve come.”

Vane raised his hand and motioned to the room around them. “You desire my mistress so much that you’re willing to purchase all these paintings?”

The duke’s expression remained aloof as he stood beside his mistress, his hand folded over her raised one.

Richard wasn’t sure who was master and who was the slave in their relationship. Richard couldn’t help but make the comparison to the ladybird being worshipped like Cleopatra on her sensual throne ready to order her disciple—the duke—to kiss an asp.

“My only desire,” Richard replied, “is to protect my wife’s reputation.”

“Ah. Admirable as that is, her reputation is safe with me.”

“When Emma’s fate is not in my hands, but rests upon your word, you will understand why I hesitate to agree.”

“A shame for you, then.”

The duke’s hand massaged his mistress’s arm, then over to her bare shoulder. He fingered possessively at the deep sapphires strung about her neck like a collar.

Dante remained a silent presence. His expression unreadable as he walked around the room.

“You may not part with the pictures displayed here, but what of the pieces not in your possession?”

“You won’t leave this alone if I don’t throw you a scrap of control, will you?”