Page 101 of The Truth About Lord Stoneville
As a laugh of pure joy bubbled out of her, she began to untie his cravat. “I can see you’re going to be quite the lusty husband, aren’t you?”
He stripped her gown from her, then turned her aroundto undo her stays. “You have no idea,” he murmured, and filled his hands with the breasts he’d freed.
Moaning, she pressed her bottom against him. “I havesomeidea.”
There were no more words as they undressed each other. It was the strangest experience of his life. The part of his brain that generally worked constantly while he was tupping a woman, the part that assessed how to get the most from the experience, seemed to be on holiday.
He felt like a randy lad again, too aroused to be cautious, too swept up in the pleasure of her to think beyond the simple enjoyment of uncovering her silky flesh, the heat of unveiling her magnificent body. In a frenzy of need, he tumbled her onto the bed and joined her there, desperate to be inside her, to show her the intensity of what he felt.
But just as he bent to kiss her throat, she pushed him off her and jumped up from the bed. “I didn’t lock the door!”
Grabbing her waist, he pulled her down on top of him. “No one will come in, sweetheart.” He clamped his legs about hers to keep her there. “And if they do, it will only hasten our march to the altar—which is just fine by me.”
Eyeing him askance, she pushed up from his chest. “Why do you always attempt seducing me when someone might happen in upon us? First, you kiss me when youknowyour grandmother is about to walk in, then you do quite wicked things to me in the carriage a breath away from half of London, and then—”
“What can I say?” He grinned up at her. “Since I intendto have only you in my bed for the rest of my life, I have to teach you everything I know.” He filled his hands with her ample breasts. “Here’s your first lesson. Make love to me, my darling betrothed.”
He thrust his cock up at her to emphasize the point, and she caught her breath. “I’m not sure I understand.”
“Now that you’re perched so fetchingly atop me, I want you to take me inside you.”
A delicious blush touched her cheeks. “I can do that?”
He laughed. “It works just as well in reverse, trust me.”
Curiosity swept her features as she sat back on her heels to stare at his jutting cock. “Oh, my.”
He reached down to the tender flesh between her legs, exulting to find it hot and wet and welcoming. “Oh my, indeed,” he rasped. “Come on, my angel. Make love to me. Before I go mad.”
With an uncertain smile, she lifted up and lowered herself onto his cock. “Well,” she said when she was fully seated. “That’s interesting.”
“Isn’t it, though?” He thrust against her. “But don’t stop there.”
She began to move, her luscious body undulating atop his and her hair streaming over her breasts, a silky curtain shimmering golden-red in the midmorning light. As the blood rose in him, he stared up into her glowing face and finally understood why men married.
He’d heard the marriage rites at his friends’ weddings many a time, their sonorous words spoken with solemnity by a vicar who looked as if he probably bedded his wifewith his eyes closed. When the service had come to the part where the couple each said, “with my body I thee worship,” Oliver had always choked down a bitter laugh.
He wasn’t laughing now. Thiswasworship, this joining of a man with the woman he loved. There was no guile in her face, no manipulation, no secrets. She loved him, pure and simple, without reserve. She’d believed in him when he himself could not. And her belief now transformed her into the angel descending to make him whole, to soothe his hurts, to bring his body alive with her spirit.
Wanting to reciprocate, he thumbed her luscious nipples, brushed kisses on her arms, slid his hand between her legs to fondle her pleasure spot and make her gasp. He reveled in the heat of her smile, the delicacy of her skin as Maria rode him like a glorious goddess, her eyes alight with feeling, her hands sweeping his body with tender caresses that made his throat raw with unshed tears.
Had he actually thought to teach her passion that day in the carriage? He must have been mad. Untutored as she was in its ways, she’d understood what he had not—that passion wasn’t about the act. It was about the one who joined you in the act.
The need for release came upon him so quickly that he feared he might not last until she found her own, but just as he felt his erupting, she threw back her head with a cry and convulsed around him. He poured himself into her, praying that they’d made a child. It seemed only right that this moment be captured forever in a gamboling son or a laughing daughter.
She collapsed atop him, naked and sated, and his heart nearly burst from joy. A laugh tumbled out of him. If he didn’t watch it, she’d turn him into a maudlin creature spouting romantic verse.
She arched an eyebrow at him. “Why do you laugh, sir?”
“I’m happy.” Incredibly, it was true. “I’ll be even happier when we can find a man of the cloth and use that special license.”
“And what if I decide to take you up on your offer to make me your mistress instead?” she teased. “What if I prefer to keep hold of my inheritance?”
That brought him up short. What exactly had happened during her meeting with Hyatt? “Is that what you want?”
“No,” she said softly. “I want you.”
“The feeling is perfectly mutual.” Taking her by surprise, he rolled her beneath him and began to kiss her neck. “Indeed, I want you right now. Again.”
