Page 8 of Eager Housewife

After a second, his breath ghosts my inner thigh, and he murmurs, “Good girl,” before licking right over my clit.

I buck and squeal with shock.

“Uh-uh.” His fingers tighten on my thighs.

He licks me again in a long stroke that’s so slow it’s like it’s for him savouring me rather than my pleasure. It’s almost too much, making me jerk and mewl.

“I’m going to make you come with my mouth, and you will take it,” he orders huskily.

Oh my god. Is that what’s happening here?

“I—”

“You can,” he insists. “Don’t fight it.”

So I don’t.

I bite my lip to prevent myself from blurting out anything. The sensation of his hot wet tongue on my pussy is as erotic and extraordinary and unexpected as this whole day has been since I first saw his computer screen.

The contrast of the cold stone and Mr Blackstone between my legs drives me wild. I wanted to pretend I’m cool, this is no big deal to me. But I’m writhing and moaning. It’s insane. I’m a normal, everyday girl, not someone who is placed onto a high surface and devoured carnally.

Because that’s what Mr Blackstone is doing, dedicatedly.

He eats me out as though he’s starving, with grunts of enjoyment like I’m the best thing he’s ever tasted. His hands on my thighs to keep me still as the sensations are too much for me and I writhe. Those purring sounds he makes go right into my bones. Everything tells me—apart from his lack of actual words—that he’s delighted by licking me.

I’m gasping, fisting my hands and scraping my fingers on the shiny marble. I scrabble for purchase with my feet and Mr Blackstone becomes all the stricter, holding me down and doing something magic with his tongue. My back bows as the pleasure ramps up.

Then he lets one of my thighs go, and I barely have time to realise what he’s going to do before he shoves a finger into my passage and I’m coming. It’s like my body was waiting to have a part of him to grip onto, and that triggers me off, spinning me into ecstasy. I pulse and vibrate and although before I’ve used my fingers to make myself come, this is an entirely different level.

My sight is blurred, though I don’t close my eyes as the pleasure buzzes through me. This orgasm is whole body shudders.

Mr Blackstone made me come with his tongue and only one solitary finger.

I manage to focus, and find my husband-to-be with his hands on either side of my hips and his stormy blue gaze on my face. His cheeks are wet, and he’s smiling with an expression that’s unrepentantly smug.

He just made me come.

This is free use?

“I don’t understand.” My eyeline falls to where he’s packing a very large truncheon. It’s so big, surely it’s painful? Doesn’t he need relief? “Aren’t we going to have sex?”

He adjusts his crotch, and my breath is stolen by how much I want him.

“Not until we’re married.”

4

DUNCAN

The wedding takes fucking forever. The eejit clerk at Blackstone Town Hall tries to say at first he won’t marry us today because of something about banns. He backs down with a gulp when faced with a curl of my lip and a peek at the gun holstered beneath my suit jacket.

I hold myself together. I’m well behaved through the whole buying a dress and getting married thing, but all I can think about is Blythe being myfree use wife.

For the wedding, to add to the sheer temptation of her white dress, she has her hair down for the first time since I’ve known her. She normally has it wound together in strands—a braid? A plait? Whatever it’s called. Instead, her hair falls in soft waves to her shoulders. She takes my breath away with how unconsciously beautiful she is.

I’m obsessed. I need her. Now some lizard part of my brain has decided she’ll be mine, it requires every spec of self-control to keep to the plan and do this properly. To be the husband she—well. If not the husband she deserves, then at least the husband she bargained for, and no worse.

Blythe’s nerves emit from her in shaky waves. She’s aiming for calm and poised, I can see that. The dress she chose from the exclusive boutique I took her to is floor length and silky, without swamping her. I long to comfort her. Everything in me clamours to pull her into my arms and tell her I’ll ensure she loves me. I’d burn continents to see her smile. I gave those bastards who conned her with the house share what they deserved. What I won’t do though, is overstep on the deal we made.