Page 45 of Indecently Employed
Gently he placed a hand to her cheek, turning her to face him over her shoulder.
“You didn’t have to.”
“I said I would.”
His blue eyes were lit from within, burning with the same intensity as in the library earlier that day. Her body wanted to fold in upon itself; a tense, knotted ache was building just below her stomach.
“But,” he broke the gaze, lifting a hand to brush away her loose curls, “did you come because you wanted to… or out of mere obligation?” He leaned forward, placing a soft kiss on her cheek, then pulled back with an open, earnest look in his eyes.
She stared at him, her whole body thrumming; she could almost hear the blood coursing through her veins. Each moment struck sparks off the one that came before, building and building until nothing could douse the flames.
At last she spoke. “No, not obligation. I wanted to.”
His jaw flexed, and he gripped her shoulders, turning her to face him. “Wanted what?” he said, his voice hoarse.
Susanna closed her eyes for a moment, then fluttered them open to look up at his handsome face, so intent on her, his eyes trained on her mouth. She leaned into him, pressing her body against his, and slid her arms around him. He felt so solid, so strong.
Likely there was some pretty, sensual thing she might murmur, but Susanna only knew how to be herself. And she’d counted the days until her courses—several times that afternoon, just to be sure. “To lie with you,” she said, her heart thudding heavily in her chest.
He kissed her, taking her mouth with fervor, and she responded, feeling the heat rising within her. With a building desperation, she wanted to throw herself upon him, rub her face against his shoulder, wrap her thighs around him, grind her sex against his. It was as maddening as it was enthralling, this feeling that all good sense and reason had become inaccessible, completely overtaken by an unbridled, animalistic drive thatonly the frenetic movement of their lips against one other could satisfy.
Eventually he pulled her arms from his shoulders, lowering them to her sides and slowing his kisses so his hands could slide up her front and begin with the line of buttons down her bodice. She attempted to join in, wanting—needing—the cursed garment off her, but he batted her hands away. So she yielded to his slow, steady hands, allowing herself to be disrobed even as his tongue teased her mouth open again. Relief surged through her as the bodice fell open. With a bout of awkwardness she managed to shuck it off. Once it had been thrown to the floor, he pulled back and made short work of her skirts and crinolines. Blood rushed to her head, warming her cheeks as she held his hand, now down to just her underthings, the pause in their lovemaking long enough to bring back her cursed self-awareness. She averted her eyes as he removed her corset and its covering and threw them to the ground with the rest of her clothing.
But then he looked at her, a ferocious set to his mouth and an awed sort of stupor in his eyes, and he moaned her name as he lowered her reverently to the bed. His voice was so low and rumbling that she felt a shudder run down her back as she sank into the rich red velvet of the counterpane.
“Christ, how I’ve wanted you like this,” he said, straddling her on his knees, deftly undoing the frogging of his lounging robe before throwing it to the floor. He glanced away as he yanked off his neckcloth, then looked back with a warm smile as he undid his sleeves at the wrists, carelessly tossing the rich gold cufflinks after the robe. They hit the carpeted floor with heavy thuds.
Susanna shivered, very aware of her near-nakedness as she felt the thin cotton chemise graze against her hardened nipples.
“Darling,” he murmured, pausing to lean over and kiss her, deep and heady. “I promise to warm you in short order,” hewhispered against the corner of her lips, before retreating to unbutton the rest of his shirt and remove his vest underneath. She could hear the slide of his trousers down his legs as he kicked those to the floor as well.
Feeling tongue-tied and drunk with anticipation, Susanna said nothing as she stared at the timbered ceiling. Time seemed to alternately slow down and speed up as she readied to take her pleasure from the lord of the manor, floating in the massive Tudor bed in the medieval solar; the scene felt almost phantasmagoric.
And then he was back upon her, kissing her neck, bare-chested and clad only in his drawers. “Your hair,” he breathed. “I prefer it loose, but this…” he leaned back, stroking her head as he gazed lustily at her, “this is rather fetching.”
She responded with a gasp as he jerked her body up against him, feeling his hardness through what was left of their undergarments. Her hands found his shoulders, smooth and firm. She ran her fingers across his back, down his arms, relishing his physicality. More than anything, she wanted him. To feel his masculine strength, to bring him to his knees at the behest of a seductive power all her own. He responded likewise, with one hand gripping her bottom, the other caressing one of her breasts. Slowly he teased out her nipple before homing in on it, rolling it between his fingers through her chemise.
How long they writhed about the bed like that, their caresses slow and exploratory, she could not say. At some point she realized that not only was there an ache between her legs, but a wetness akin to what she’d experienced that afternoon in the library. His mouth moved down her neck to her chest, to her other breast. She gasped, feeling his mouth wet the fabric, cold against her hardened nipple.
“Ajax,” she cried, digging her fingers into his back. “Please, I… I want you to touch me.”
His expression hardened. He placed one last kiss on her lips, then drifted down the length of her body, leaving a trail of desultory kisses as he went. He removed her drawers, emitting a pleased sort of moan from deep in his chest as he saw her completely exposed. He drew closer; Susanna could feel his hot breath against her thigh. Suddenly realizing what he intended to do, she was shaken by a burst of excitement.
“Oh! I never expected—but it makes perfect sense,” she murmured to herself.
“Would you prefer something else?” He placed a gentle kiss on the inside of her leg, so very close to his intended destination.
“No,” she said firmly, then added breathily, “Please. I had only—”
She would never complete the thought, for his mouth was upon her, his tongue exploring her. Indeed, it had never occurred to her that this might be a means of offering a lady pleasure. But as he teased her toward climax with his tongue, Susanna realized how naïve and foolish she’d been not to consider it. It felt slower, richer… more luxurious than it had been earlier that day, when he had used only his fingers. She moaned, arching her back against the bed, dragging her fingers through the pile of the velvet counterpane until they ended up atop his head between her legs, raking through his handsome dark and gray hair.
It all quickly became too much to bear, and she lifted her head, wanting to see him, his handsome face. And then she saw his hand in his own drawers, stroking his length even as his mouth was on her. The sight of it pushed her over the edge, and she came.
Susanna called out, bucking against him, but his other hand held her down, kept her steady through another climax, then another. Finally, when she felt her body could not withstand it anymore, she sat upward to push his face away.
“Good girl,” he moaned, falling forward, laying his forehead against her hip bone. And then he made a breathless, guttural sound as he spilled over his hand.
Her mind felt slower, her body looser, and they lay like that for heaven knew how long. Her hands found his shoulders, stroking them as she closed her eyes and wondered whether it would feel like this when they joined their bodies. She released a happy little sigh, feeling truly and completely at ease. And to think she might have gone through life never knowing this quietude within herself.
