Page 16 of Buon Natale, My Wicked Rogue (Wicked Widows’ League #18)

The village church bells rang as Evan and Angela walked from the dowager house to Whitestone Manor, followed by Lady Wyndam and Lady Barnet and her son, who had been Evan’s best man, and several of the Widows’ League’s inner circle.

Lady Wyndam had introduced these ladies to Evan, but to be fair, he’d not remembered their names.

He had eyes only for Angela, who was resplendent in her velvet wedding dress of primrose yellow.

The ladies had showered them with rose petals and made some comments that burned even Evan’s ears, a ribald but good-natured chorus of well wishes, some for their happiness, health, and long-life, some for many children, some for their continued financial success and, outrageously, some for Evan’s continued virility.

Then they started with the somewhat bawdy songs, songs from a generation before when King George had been in his heyday and standards regarding carnal activities had been a shade or two more lenient.

Someone was even playing a fiddle, and someone else was playing a harmonica and doing a fairly decent job.

Listening to these ladies made them both laugh all the way to the grand estate house.

In the ballroom, he had danced with Lady Wyndam since his dear mother was spending time with his uncle in Yorkshire and hadn’t been able to travel to Whitestone Manor for the wedding.

He danced with Lady Barnet and some of the other ladies of the Widows’ League’s inner circle.

All of their faces and names still remained a blur.

Then the dancers cleared the floor, and he finally danced with Angela.

Now, they were pulling back the curtain on a small, raised stage.

He glanced up at where the quartet had sat on a balcony, draped with ivy and holly and white and red roses from the estate hothouses that overlooked the ballroom.

The musicians had gone on a break and were now returning.

He looked back to where Lady Wyndam and Lady Barnet were leading Angela up onto the stage.

All three ladies were smiling and laughing merrily, though he recognized Angela’s nervousness through her smiles. Lady Wyndam announced her simply as “Lady Ashington, a person of some talent.”

The musicians had settled themselves and began to play the familiar notes of Caro Mio Ben.

Angela began to sing:

Caro mio ben

Credimi almen

Senza di te

Languisce il cor

Her voice sounded so clear and beautiful, echoing through the ballroom.

Evan’s heart filled with joy, hearing his bride sing such beautiful lyrics with such emotion.

And when she was finished, there wasn’t an eye in the whole ballroom that wasn’t at least misty.

Including his own and he was so proud of his gorgeous wife. She had so many facets and talents.

He supposed he would spend a lifetime learning and discovering everything there was to his wife. When she was done, he ran up onto the stage and drew her into his arms. She was limp and trembling slightly from the unaccustomed exercise of singing such an emotional and energetically demanding song.

At the calls for an encore, he grinned and waved them off and then he lifted her off her feet and up into his arms.

The assembled guests cheered, and there were more well wishes for them as a newly wedded couple, though these were a good deal more circumspect than the ones that had regaled them on the walk from the dowager house to the manor house.

They would spend their first night here at Whitestone Manor in a luxurious guest chamber and then after a day they would return to the dowager house. In their chamber, Angela collapsed on the bed, exhausted, but it was a joyful exhaustion.

“I want to give you your Christmas present early,” Evan said.

She sat up. “A Christmas present?”

He grinned. “Yes.”

“But I have nothing for you.” The corners of her mouth turned down, and she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Don’t have such an unhappy face. Wait until you see this present.” He went to the door and whistled.

Soon the sound of boots on the floorboards echoed, and she heard Oliver’s voice in the corridor. Another sound then tweaked her ears. A yapping, squeaky sound.

It sounded a lot like a puppy.

A puppy!

She forgot her fatigue and jumped to her feet. Then, she ran to the door, rushing at Evan as he carried the little cage towards her.

“Oh, Evan!” She clapped her hands. “Let me see it. Let me see it.”

“Now, wait a moment.” He was grinning as broadly as she was.

Bending towards the cage, she tried to see more. She could see the liver and white spots and the little floppy ears. “Let the puppy out!”

He was laughing as he sat the carrier on the bed and undid the latch. The puppy came waddling out and then stopped and sneezed.

They both laughed.

“Is it a boy or a girl?” she asked.

“I am told it is a little lady doggie.”

“How perfect,” she said as she held her hand out to her new pet. “Good evening, baby. Come greet your new mama.”

The puppy came tumbling over the thick quilts to sniff her hand. Another sneeze, and then the puppy shook her head. “Are you house-trained yet, baby?”

“That may need some work,” he said, reaching his hand out to let the puppy sniff as well. Then he softly scratched its downy head. “What will you call her?”

“I think we shall call her Natalia, for she comes to us at Christmas.”

“That’s a good name for her,” he said.

They reclined on their bed and petted and played with Natalia for a while until the puppy began to struggle to keep its eyes open.

“I think we shall let Oliver take care of Natalia for the remainder of the night. It is our wedding night, after all,” Evan said.

She nodded in agreement. There would be plenty of nights to cuddle with her new puppy, but they would have only one wedding night.

When Evan returned from taking Natalia to Oliver, Angela was waiting for him at the door.

Her hair fell about her shoulders, deep brown with a hint of coppery highlights glowing in the combined light from the fire and the candles.

The emerald silk dressing gown that she wore only accentuated the lovely colors of her hair.

Her eyelids were at half-mast and shadowed purple, likely from tiredness.

The look reminded him of the way she appeared when he’d given her good, hard, long lovemaking.

Though she appeared fatigued, he could smell the spices in the air. He knew if he kissed her now, he would taste rum and spices on her tongue. She intended to enjoy herself, and he definitely approved.

He would have gone to the sideboard and helped himself to a cup of that hot milk and rum that she’d already indulged in.

However, at that moment, she untied her dressing gown, slid it off her shoulders, and let it drop to the floor in a pool of emerald silk at her feet.

He sucked in his breath, his gaze drinking in her beauty from her dark rose-tipped breasts to her narrow waist and voluptuous hips.

She came to him naked and pressed herself against his still fully clothed body. Without thought, he let his hands slide down the silken skin of her back until he reached her round, full buttocks. He cupped her softness and pressed her pelvis into his erection.

She stood on her tiptoes and leaned into his neck. The sudden sharpness of her teeth on his earlobe made him startle, but it made his cock throb with a fierce bolt of lust.

“I saw those ladies, the way they all stared at you tonight, my love. I saw the hunger in their eyes.”

“Really,” he said. “I didn’t notice any of them.”

“Well, in the weeks and months and years to come, you had better remember that you belong to me. You pledged yourself to me today.”

“I will not forget, my love.”

“I intend that you should never have the energy or will to forget that you belong to me.” She put her mouth over his earlobe and flicked it with her tongue.

Heat burst in his ear and down his neck, pleasurable heat that somehow registered directly in his cock, and he was throbbing and leaking, hungry for her.

She pulled away from him and cupped her breasts, holding them up for his inspection. Then she arched one shoulder towards him and cupped that breast, holding it out to him.

His gaze riveted on the erect nipple, the rose color intensifying as though before his eyes.

“Suck my nipples,” she said, her voice a little husky yet soft as a whisper and her eyes glowing softly, dark and appearing browner than hazel from her dilated pupils. He leaned down and grazed his tongue across her nipple and lingered, enjoying the satin yet firm feel of the erect tip.

He enjoyed the way she shuddered and then moaned, the way she swayed against him. He held her by the buttocks, steadying her so he could focus on drawing her nipple into his mouth and sucking gently.

She shifted and offered him the other breast, and he accepted. She moaned and arched her back.

He had to be inside her now.

Without delay.

“Wrap your legs around my waist,” he said.

With a soft moan, she complied. He cupped her buttocks more firmly, carried her to the bed, and deposited her there gently. She looked up at him with those dark, hooded eyes, watching as he wrenched the buttons on his trousers open. His erection sprang free.

He leaned over her, ready to thrust into her at once.

She reached up and grasped his pulsing shaft. His cock throbbed violently in her hold.

“Angela,” he gasped, his hips jerking forward as though of their own accord.

She pulled herself up and leaned toward his straining flesh and put her lips to the crown.

“Angela, Angela,” he gasped her name. It sounded like a plea, either for her to stop such delicious torture or never stop; he wasn’t sure. His heart hammered in his chest, and his cock seemed to become harder.

She put her mouth over him, a slow, silken slide. Her soft, hot, wet mouth nearly undid him. He threaded his hands through the mass of her loosely curling hair until his fingers splayed on her scalp.

She moaned in her throat, the vibrations carrying to his cock in her mouth.

She began to move back and forth, and he let her have her way with him and his erection for long moments until he felt his cods pull tight against his body.

He felt the warning surges deep inside. He would spend soon.

As gently as he could manage, he pulled her head away.

“I’ll swallow you,” she said breathlessly, her passion-darkened eyes pleading with him.

She circled both hands around his shaft, and she placed her lips to his crown, sliding her lips over the huge head and moaning as though it were the greatest of delicacies.

“I want to. I want to taste you. I want to consume you.”

Damn, he wanted to spill into her mouth immediately. He felt the surge within himself, stronger this time.

“No, not this time,” he said, his words sounding harsh, for he was gritting his jaw, trying to control the urge to come. He put his hands on her shoulders and, as gently as he could, pressed her down on the bed.

“Spread yourself for me.”

She parted her legs, revealing the glistening dark pinkness of her aroused sex. He grabbed his cock, and with a groan, he fell over her, then put the head to her hot wetness and entered her on one fierce thrust. At the sudden encasing of his aching flesh into hers, he groaned.

She arched up and cried out. Her inner walls clenched on his throbbing cock.

“I adore your hot, luscious, tight little cunny,” he said, staring down and watching her writhe on the bed as she cupped her breasts and rolled the pointed tips between her thumbs and forefingers. The sight nearly undid him, and he grasped her hips.

“Be still!” he ground out the words, fighting against the intense urgings of his body to give in and come inside her.

“Oh, oh, oh!” She struggled against his hold.

With a pained groan, he withdrew from her.

“No, no...” She slid toward him, arching her hips.

“Minx.” With his hands still on her hips, he pressed her down.

“You’ve got to behave so I can do this properly.”

“I want your cock! I need your cock!” She made the most incredible mewling sounds and thrashed her head on the pillow. Her hips fought against his restraint. “I need your cock so badly. I need it now.”

Give me the strength not to come immediately.

Hands still gripping her hips, he thrust back inside her with an almost violent motion, and at the return to her tight, hot wetness, he groaned and began a rapid, forceful thrusting. Her whole body rocked beneath his, her breasts bouncing as she cried out in short, clipped little gasps.

He released her hips and slid his hand between their bodies to brush against her most sensitive part. She froze, and her face crumpled up, and she screamed as she arched up towards his body.

His cock jerked, and his seed came in surges that were so strong his climax was almost a painful pleasure.

Helpless to sensation, he fell over her and after a few moments, feeling the intense waves of satisfaction like he’d never known before, he just managed the strength to roll off of her and fling his body beside her.