Page 132
Story: A Season of Romance
T hat kiss. That kiss, that kiss . Julia’s insides simply swam at the memory. The very thought conjured a low thrum of anticipation throbbing between her thighs. No matter what she did, she could not clear it from her mind. And if she was being honest, she did not wish to refrain from remembering.
No, she wanted to replay it over and over in her mind. His tongue stroking hers, his teeth nipping at her lower lip. His sensual growl.
A shiver ran down her spine and left her skin prickled with sensual awareness.
“You are cold,” Cecelia said from beside her in a soft tone. “Let’s have the maid fetch your shawl.”
“No need.” Julia closed the book on the page she’d attempted to read for the twentieth time.
“I’ll go upstairs myself. I need to move around a bit, I think.
” Though really, Julia hoped to find her husband upstairs.
As much as she had wanted to avoid him yesterday, she wanted to see him today.
After such a kiss, hopefully he could be easily enticed into more.
Cecelia lowered her own book. “I’ll come with you.”
“I’m perfectly fine.” Julia said. “It will only take a moment.”
“If you’re certain.” Cecelia was already settling her gaze on the open novel.
“Very.” With that, Julia departed the room, making her way past Nancy’s oldest daughter, Lady Penelope, who had an upside-down Gothic novel in her hands and another book resting at its center. One with graphic pages of various plants and…was that an eye?
“Your book is upside down,” Julia whispered.
Lady Penelope’s mouth dropped open, and the young lady rushed to flip it upright before sliding a sheepishly grateful smile in Julia’s direction.
That done, Julia dashed up the stairs, a mite too quickly perhaps, in the hopes of seeing William and doing what she could do entice him. Yes, even in the daylight.
A sound came from the other side of her door. Was it rustling? Yes, it was most certainly rustling. Without hesitation, she opened the door, and about gave poor Hodges an apoplexy.
He recovered quickly and bowed. “Your Grace.”
She glanced discreetly around their living space to see if William was about. “I came to get my shawl.”
“His Grace is not here,” he said in a knowing tone.
She regarded the older man as he straightened several bottles of shaving soap and cologne. “I imagine his perpetual neatness makes being his valet easier.”
“I much preferred it the other way, Your Grace.” Hodges’s thin mouth set into a hard line beneath his white mustache.
It was impossible not to notice there was something deeper being alluded to. She ought not to ask. She ought not to care. Even as she reminded herself of these things, her mouth opened up and popped out with a question. “Was he not always so neat?”
Hodges’s eyes crinkled with affection. “Oh no, when he was a lad, he was messy as a squirrel.”
Julia shook her head at the notion of her immaculate husband being anything but.
She should leave well enough alone and return downstairs. And yet, she yearned to discover what made William strive so terribly hard for perfection. And once more, before she could stop herself from caring, another question emerged. “What changed?”
The light dulled in Hodges’s affable expression.
“His Grace was changed, that’s what. After the fire.
I didn’t see him again until he took me on as his valet, when he returned home from university.
He doesn’t speak of his life before then, but I know his relatives shuffled him about for years.
I imagine in a situation where one feels like a misstep would mean another house, one learns to be unfailingly perfect. ”
He lowered his head, revealing a bald spot at the cowlick on the back of his head. “Forgive me, Your Grace. I shouldn’t speak so openly. I only wanted you to understand his constant cleaning is by no means an insult to you.” His eyes widened. “Not that you’re untidy.”
She waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, but I am. Terribly messy. Enough for the both of us.” The idea of her husband as a young man was a sobering one. Ushered between houses, trying to be perfect, to please them all. “Thank you for telling me.”
Hodges held out a pale green shawl for her.
It was not the one she would have chosen, but at second glance, it complimented the small embroidery along the hem and was far more becoming than the one Julia had intended.
Shawl in hand, she made her way downstairs to find the men had joined the women.
The books had all been put away, and Nancy’s daughters and Cecelia’s younger sister had returned to their private rooms.
Lord Mortry stood in the corner surrounded by every lady in attendance; even Lady Doursly, whose cross face had softened into something almost whimsical as he read aloud from what sounded to be The Bride of Abydos . Lord Byron. Of course.
The other gentlemen were gathered around the table with a stack of cards. The other gentlemen, except for William. He sat at a single table near the hearth with an empty seat across from him and a set chess game at the ready.
She approached him with a slow smile. “Is this for us?”
He grinned in reply.
Julia had never been very good at chess, and so her loss came by as no surprise. Unfortunate though it certainly was.
“Checkmate.” William leaned forward in his seat with his queen held in his long elegant fingers, and gently tipped over Julia’s king with the queen’s wide base. He lowered his voice. “Meet me in our chamber.”
Before she could even reply, he got to his feet and was gone, leaving her hot and breathless with anticipation. He would no doubt choose a kiss again, but oh how she wanted it. Needed it.
She waited a long moment, then slowly, intentionally rose from her chair and slipped out of the room to follow.
William could scarcely wait for Julia to arrive. When she did, he caught her by the waist with one arm, and closed the door with the other. He pressed her back gently against the wall, his mouth on hers as her lips parted to accept him.
“What’s your prize?” she murmured.
He swept his tongue against hers and cradled her head in his hands, angling her face. “Kissing,” he groaned.
A helpless whimper came from the back of her throat. If he wasn’t so damn hot and hard, he might have laughed. His plan was working exceedingly well. Even if the act of winning was proving torturous.
Her hands slid across his stomach and down to curl around his solid erection. He grunted in bittersweet surprise. The wonderful, teasing friction, the promise in the cradle of her palm, it was nearly more than he could take.
He removed her hand and pressed his hips to hers, letting her feel all of what she wanted.
Her leg shifted up his body, and he knew beneath all those layers, her most intimate place opened with that simple action.
Willing and eager to accept him. His breath came ragged, while his hips flexed forward in a motion of lust.
Julia ground her body against his with a desperation he knew all too well. Perhaps it was time to push her farther. Give her more.
He trailed his mouth down the elegant column of her throat as his hand worked free the modest neckline of her frock, taking care to brush her sensitive nipples at all opportunities. Her breasts were lovely. Creamy white and tipped with straining, taut pink buds.
He bent his head and licked the hard nub. Julia’s fingers clawed into the back of William’s jacket. He then sucked the bud into the heat of his mouth while his tongue stroked gentle circles.
She gasped his name, the sound like sensual honey to his ears. This was suddenly not enough for him either. He wanted to bring her incredible pleasure.
He wanted to consume her thoughts and burn his way into her heart. He wanted to change everything he had done wrong on their wedding night, when his fear of hurting her had stifled him. Now he would ensure all went very, very right.
He straightened and nuzzled her face with his, putting his mouth to her ear. “Are you frustrated, my love?”
“Yes,” she whimpered.
“Do you want me?” The question came out on a possessive growl.
Her only reply was a moan, and her weight pressing against him as her knees buckled.
He skimmed his palm down her body to the heat between her legs. “Here?” His middle finger reached out in a languid caress between all those layers of cloth.
She drew in a sharp breath. “Yes. Yes. Yes. Please yes.”
It was on the edge of his mind to tell her to win the next game, but his mind was hardly working at this point. He lifted her skirts and drew back to watch her expression as he did so.
Those bright blue eyes remained fixed on him, half-lidded and bright with desire.
Her mouth was swollen and red from their kisses; her breasts exposed and beautiful.
His cock was near bursting just looking at her.
Especially when the skirts were properly lifted and pushed over her hips to reveal the thatch of dark hair and an obvious dampness at the apex of her thighs.
Had any woman ever been so wet with need?
He cupped the intimate place. Her brows flinched and the fragile muscles at her neck tensed.
“Here?” he confirmed.
She gave a vigorous nod.
His middle finger moved against her, without the barrier of cloth this time, gliding against what was slick and hot and swollen. “Here?”
She moaned. Her hips bucked against his hand and ground with frustrated intention.
He traced her once, twice, before locating the small bud and rubbing it with the pad of his finger. Her sharp gasp rang out.
“There,” she panted. “There.”
“Not only there.” He slipped a finger inside her where it gripped him with a tightness he remembered too well.
“And there,” she agreed in a gasp.
He moved the finger in and out before adding a second. Her hips rocked against his hand in a rhythm that matched his stroking.
“Perhaps both?” He positioned his thumb over the sensitive nub, as his fingers continued to pump inside her.
Julia’s eyes flew open. “It’s too much.”
“It’s just enough.” He slowed his ministrations. “Trust me, my love.”
She nodded, and he kissed her, tasting her lust while he brought her pleasure. She stiffened. Her grip clamping his fingers spasmed and she cried out her euphoria against his mouth. His prick jerked at the sound.
William stroked her only a time or two more before sliding his hand free and releasing her skirts.
She blinked up at him.
“That should have been our wedding night,” he said with regret. “I was too afraid of hurting you.”
“None of that hurt.” She closed her eyes and gave a lazy, languid smile. “I want to do that again.”
He wouldn’t survive a second time. Even now, his cock ached with indignation. “Oh, we will. Many times.”
She chuckled, the sound low and sensual, and he knew well that the decision to give her pleasure had been a good one. His plan was working.
Table of Contents
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