Page 21 of 1797 Club 2nd Epilogue Collection (The 1797 Club #11)

I sabel’s heart raced as Matthew buried his head between her legs, spread her folds wide and stroked his tongue across the sensitive flesh he revealed.

The man was magical when he came to this act.

He worshipped her just this way often and was just as aroused by her pleasure as he was by his own.

A gift he gave along with so many others.

But right now, knowing some stranger might be watching them together, seeing their anonymous passion, it was more arousing than she’d ever thought. Matthew had suggested giving a show and she surrendered herself to doing just that.

She lifted her hips into him, groaning as he took his time exploring every inch of her.

He only teased her clitoris now and then, a little expert torment that set her on edge.

He continued to do so while he slid one hand up the apex of her body and began to squeeze and tease her breasts, back and forth, flicking her nipple with his thumb, massaging as the pleasure he built became harder and stronger.

She rocked against his tongue while she clung to his wrist, shamelessly taking all the pleasure, drowning in it as her cries and moans and breaths became louder and more insistent.

Was the show for him as he moaned against her flesh, his fingers marking her, or for strangers?

It didn’t matter, because the sensations was wiping everything else away and making her forget everything but the feel of his tongue as he circled her with more purpose.

He sucked her clitoris, stroked it and eventually entered into a relentless rhythm of lick and suck.

Her thighs began to shake, she gripped them tighter against his shoulders and he looked up at her with such wicked intent that the waves broke at last and she wailed, her body thrashing, her hips rising, her sex quivering as he drew her through pleasure and all the way to the edge of pain.

Only then did he release her and rise to his feet.

He was gorgeous in that moment, even with half his face masked.

She knew everything about that face, she could see the lines of sexual tension, of need and desire, of heat and claiming that made his jawline taut.

She saw the proof of her orgasm, wet and slick on his chin as his tongue darted out to taste her further.

She caught the arm that still held one breast and tugged, bringing him down on her. He kissed her, cupping the back of her head, pulling his fingers into her hair to hold her steady as she tasted her desire and release merged with the flavors of this man she loved.

“More,” she murmured against his lips and he drew back to stare down at her.

“You know I love hearing that,” he said, his eyes filled with as much love as passion.

She smiled. They could come here and pretend and play, but in the end, their connection was so strong that she could never fully surrender herself to the game. This was the love of her life.

She ducked out from under his embrace and felt him watching her as she padded to the area across the room where others could watch. She found the handle for the panel and smiled into the darkness as she said, “The rest is just for us, I’m afraid. ”

Matthew chuckled as she slid it closed and turned back to face him. “You didn’t want to be watched anymore?”

“Not by anyone but you, my love,” she whispered and slid her mask from her face. She set it aside on a small table and motioned for him to do the same. He did so and her breath caught. Oh yes, she didn't want to be anyone but this man’s wife and duchess and partner.

She began to move toward him, but he held up a hand. “Stay there,” he murmured.

She stopped and stood where she was, drinking him in as he came across the room to her, hard cock pressed up against his belly in arousal, lean muscles moving under the skin. What he did to her. She shivered.

He caught her face and kissed her again, even more deeply and more passionately now that they were just Isabel and Matthew again.

When he released her, he caught her shoulders and turned her around so that her back was to him.

He cuddled her into his chest and she began to grind her hips against his, reveling in the feel of his cock against the globes of her arse.

“Hold the table,” he commanded as he gently pushed her to bend over.

She moaned as she did so, gripping the furthest edge of the table with both hands and spreading her legs slightly. He wrapped an arm around her stomach, pulled her higher so that she was in position and at last she felt him rubbing the head of his cock against her.

“This is the best sight in the world,” he whispered.

She nodded. “It’s the best feeling in the world.”

He drove forward as she said it and she cried out, gripping harder to the table edge.

He took her hard and fast at first, all the tension of the night bleeding into the animal quality of their union.

Matthew was so calm in life, so gentlemanly, that when he lost control like this it was always fully arousing.

She found herself stealing one hand between her legs, riding her fingers and increasing sensation right to the edge of orgasm once more .

"Come for me," he murmured, folding his body over hers, kissing her neck. “Take your pleasure and steal mine.”

She bucked as sensation exploded, sharper now because she was already sensitive from the previous orgasm.

She wailed, pressing her mouth to her forearm as he grunted and growled with the pleasure of her body milking his.

She glanced over her shoulder just in time to see him throw his head back, tendons in his neck defined and pulsing as he poured himself deep within her in a few last hard thrusts.

For a moment they stayed that way, her gasping for breath, half on the table, him holding her hips, though his grip loosened. At last he released her and she stood, slightly unsteady as she smiled at him.

“I might have bruised you,” he said, reaching to touch a red spot on her thighs where she had been pounded against the table edge.

“Your tattoo,” she said, stepping into his arms. “Until it fades we’ll both think of this night.”

“Hmmm,” he said and then swept her into his arms.

She laughed as he carried her to the bed and laid her across the pillows. He joined her, tracing his hands along her flesh, tender now. Loving.

“I could have drawn that out more,” he said with a half-smile. “We could have played more in the club and then come back here.”

“I couldn’t wait either,” she assured him, grasping his hand to lift it to her lips. “The moment I saw you come across to me, all I wanted was to feel you. All I remembered was all those years ago, the first night you touched me here. This was perfect.”

“You’re always perfect,” he whispered and pressed his lips to her throat. “I wouldn’t change a thing about our life.”

She glanced down at him now, his face buried in her shoulder and reached up to comb her fingers through his thick hair. “I agree our life is perfect. You and me and little Anthony.”

He smiled against her skin at the mentioned of their two-year- old son, happily sleeping at home in their London estate. She drew in a little breath.

“But what if it changed just a little?” she continued.

He lifted his head, his brow wrinkling. “What do you mean?”

She traced her fingers down out of his hair, across his temple, his cheek and finally across his lips. Then she took his hand and slid it down her body until it rested against her lower belly.

They stared at each other for a long moment as his gaze cleared and understanding dawned.

“Truly?” he whispered, his eyes suddenly misted with tears.

“I wasn’t going to tell you in the middle of a backroom at a sex club after such a passionate joining,” she said with a little laugh. “But looking at you here in my arms, remembering so plainly where we came from and how lucky we are…I hope you don’t mind.”

He leaned in and pressed a small kiss to her belly.

“Growing our life, our love with you? I don’t mind if you tell me in the middle of London!

As we’re fighting a fire together. When we’re in the middle of some little argument about schedules.

Tell me I get to be the father of more of your children, that I get to see another son or daughter look up at me with the same eyes I adore when yours turn on me? I want to hear that any time.”

She cupped the back of his neck and pulled him in, kissing him gently as his arms came more tightly around her, holding her in the safety and warmth of his embrace.

“Then should we go back to the estate and celebrate in our own bed?” she murmured.

He nodded. “Absolutely. In just a moment.”

Then he kissed her again, his hands tightening against her in both love and desire. She was home then. Always and forever.