Page 99 of Ironvine

“Only the finest for the Earl of Ryvves.”

“Obviously the artist was a talented professional.”

“He was. When my father did his tour of the Continent as a young man, he’d met an artist in Rome. He invited him here, commissioned him to create a unique atmosphere for this room.” He turned her around to face the largest of the wall paintings of the two men swiving the woman at the same time. The woman’s wrists were bound by iron shackles held by two monkeys, their expressions lascivious.

Sliding his arm around her waist, Charles pulled her back firmly against his body. His hard chest at her back, his breath hot on her neck, his fingers stroking the sensitive spot behind her ear. Her insides melted as her head melted back against his chest.

“Tell me what you like about the paintings, Georgie.”

“I find the artist’s use of colour quite rich.”

“Colour, yes…the flesh tones in particular…” He chuckled softly. “Have you ever seen such works of art before?” He moved her toward a section of the mural where a great beast of a lion rutted a naked woman from behind, his claws gripping her, drawing blood, his fangs showing, promising torment. The woman shrieked, but was it in horror or ecstasy?

“I cannot say I knew that such a thing existed on such a grand scale.”

“Oh, it does. It does.” Charles planted a kiss on her shoulder. His scent of rosemary and lemon filled her senses as he planted a kiss on her other shoulder. A small cry escaped her lips despite her attempts to be still, be quiet. “I think you like it, Georgie.” His tongue lashed at the rim of her ear.

“I do.” She pressed her body back against his., and his hard length pressed against her buttocks. He was hard and that hardness set off a twist of need inside her, for her body now knew what it was to be filled and pleasured by that hardness. “You like it, too.” The blood pounded in her veins at the knowledge that he was excited as he held her this way.

They had not lain together recently. He’d kept late hours with his steward and his son, Joss going over accounts and improvements and problems. He’d go directly to his chamber and sleep and then wake early and go riding, then he’d have appointments and much correspondence to take care of.

Was he also avoiding her? Perhaps being with her had been a novelty for him, and now that intriguing shine had worn off? She felt that what they had shared so far had been exciting, and thrilling, yet perhaps it had not been as thrilling for him. He was used to women of experience who, she imagined, knew how to make a man come back for more, more, and even more. She wanted to be that kind of woman for him, not a family obligation.

No, not that.

Nor did she want him seeking out his pleasures elsewhere like his father and brother, and her own father undoubtedly had. Charles’s father had even brought theelsewhereinto his own house, his needs were so great.

Georgina had always been taught that a husband of her class did these things, and a wife could only expect and accept them. She’d understood it. But now that she was actually married and to Charles…

No. No. Impossible.

The way he made her feel in his arms, his kisses, his lust for her…her lust for him.

Yes, it was lust. It was, but it was also something more. And something very real, not a fanciful idea. Something that bolted to the prickly yet affectionate friendship they’d shared for years, something that made their connection more intense, more colourful. Powerful.

Yes. She wanted to be her husband’s well-spring of desire.

Georgina covered his hands with hers and brought them to her breasts. Groaning, he cupped them, bound them, stroked them.

“Georgie…”

“I’m not experienced in the ways of carnal pleasures as you are, Charles, you know this. But I would like to be. You’ve always wanted to have a woman in here. At least, here, I can be your first.”

He stilled. “You would like that?”

What she would like was to be his ultimate pleasure. “Yes, I would.”

He squeezed her middle, his lips coming to her ear. “This isn’t a horror to you?”

“It’s shocking.”

“It’s meant to be.”

“But it does not disgust me. It fascinates me.”

He tilted his head, an eyebrow arching. “From an art perspective?”

She laughed, her shoulders slackening. “Oh, indeed. But if this is what you spoke of at Vauxhall I think.”

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