Page 49 of Gabriela and His Grace (The Luna Sisters #3)
“It’s been torture to have you so close yet be unable to touch you,” he rasped. Reaching under her dress, he slipped his fingers through the slit in her drawers and hissed when he found her hot and wet. “Is this for me?”
Gabriela mewled softly. “I’ve missed your touch, too.”
Sebastian clicked his tongue. “We can’t have that.
You shouldn’t want for anything.” Holding her gaze, he stroked the crown of her sex before he slipped two fingers inside her and ground the heel of his hand against her pubic bone.
A long moan slipped past her lips as she tipped her head back, presenting the column of her throat to him.
Accepting the invitation, Sebastian leaned forward and laved her skin.
“Sebastian,” Gabriela gasped, her hips undulating to match the rhythm of his fingers, “I was told to be firm with you.”
Sebastian’s fingers slowed. When Gabriela whimpered, he resumed his ministrations. “I’m not a stubborn stallion, darling. Why would you need to be firm with me?”
His wife leaned forward to rest her forehead on his shoulder, her hips beginning to stutter in their movements.
“Lady Vale and Lady Montrose cautioned me that a man of your reputation would grow bored having only one woman in his bed. They said I needed to either accept that you would have mistresses or ensure a mistress was superfluous.”
“That you can even use the word superfluous while chasing an orgasm is astonishing,” Sebastian said around a chuckle.
“Y-you married a clever woman.” Gabriela clutched his shoulder as she swiveled her hips, and Sebastian’s mouth went dry.
“I did indeed, Ella. And as such, I don’t see how I could ever grow bored with you. It’s impossible.” He punctuated his point by affixing his mouth to her pulse point and sucking.
Warmth gushed around his fingers, and Sebastian groaned.
Gabriela snarled in the back of her throat. “It had better remain impossible.”
Oh. Sebastian pulled back, a diverted grin twisting his lips. “Is that right? Will you punish me if I do otherwise?”
“You’re being a cad again,” she panted, baring her teeth at him.
Slipping his other hand under her skirts, Sebastian slapped her once on the arse. “You mean unfailingly charming, love.”
Huffing a breath, Gabriela shifted in his lap, his fingers slipping free of her body. His wife arched a severe brow when she grasped the placard of his trousers, and Sebastian almost swallowed his tongue when she extracted his very hard cock from the tweed.
“Fuck,” he rasped, dropping his head to the seat back.
“Sí, esa es la idea.”
Sebastian opened his mouth to respond, but Gabriela squeezed him within her tight fist, and words became difficult.
He couldn’t see Gabriela’s hand pumping him up and down, or when she angled his flesh so she could slide her body down to encase it in her heat.
But Sebastian could observe how her mouth went slack when she rubbed the blunt tip up and down her slit.
He watched as her teeth clenched as she worked to take him.
He grunted when she bottomed out, her body enveloping him so perfectly he almost couldn’t breathe.
How could Sebastian ever grow bored with such an intensely passionate woman?
The first twist of Gabriela’s hips sent his eyes rolling into the back of his head, and he gripped her tightly as he thrust his pelvis into her movements.
Her low hiss sent delight curling about him, so Sebastian did it again, quivering with the sensations bolting through his body.
This woman— his woman—would absolutely be the death of him, but he would gladly pay his coin to Charon if he could do so with Gabriela wrapped all around him.
A chorus of mine mine mine looped through Sebastian’s mind as Gabriela pressed her lips against his as she came, her broken gasps and stuttered breaths pushing him toward his own powerful release.
In the aftermath, his wife held him close even while she continued to rock in his lap, bussing his cheeks, his temples, and his mouth with soft kisses and panting breaths.
Yes , Sebastian thought, his body sated and his chest absurdly tight. He could think of no better way to go.
· · ·
Whitfield Manor was not what she had expected.
Not that Gabby had any expectations for Sebastian’s ancestral home. She assumed it would be grand and stately, a place where generations of Whitfield dukes had been born and died.
Yet as she gazed out the carriage window as they traversed a gravel drive lined with English oaks, Gabby found it was more modest than grand. More cozy than stately. It was lovely.
The Georgian manor house was constructed from Gault brick, and was three stories tall, with sash windows and a Venetian window centered above a stately fluted portico.
Ivy clung to the brick facade, and Gabby imagined a young Sebastian using it to sneak from his bedchamber at night.
Her eyes could make out a large garden located off the back partition, as well as a small lake sparkling in the distance.
The gravel driveway circled in front of the entrance, and at its center was a tall garden fountain, its swirling design topped with a smiling cherub. Gabby grinned at the sight.
“The manor was not initially built to be the dukedom’s primary residence,” Sebastian murmured, staring out the window over her shoulder.
He had insisted on sitting next to her in the narrow cab, and had spent the entirety of the ride from the train station reading a book while alternating between drawing patterns on her palm and rubbing her knuckles against his lips.
Gabby found the gestures endearing, and she’d leaned into his side and dozed.
It had been an exhausting and emotional day, and their lovemaking on the train had used up the last of her energy.
But knowing they were close to Whitfield Manor had piqued her interest.
“How did it become the primary residence?” she asked now.
“Whitfield Estates burned to the ground when the eighth duke dropped a lantern in the library during a drunken stupor.” Sebastian chuckled when Gabby gasped. “The Brooks family has produced a long line of degenerates and idiots.”
“Three months ago I would have said you were living up to the family name,” Gabby said, arching a brow.
Sebastian winged up his own brow. “And three months ago I was. It’s a wonder you took pity on me.”
“Verdad.” Gabby smiled, and then turned to look out the window again. “So Whitfield Estates burned down, and the subsequent dukes took up residence here at the manor?”
“Yes. It had once been the home of the dowager duchesses.” Sebastian’s expression softened. “It’s small by ancestral estate standards, but I was…content here.”
A sad, wistful note colored his words, and Gabby leaned back until her head was cradled between his neck and shoulder. “And we will be happy here.”
Her husband bussed her temple. “I hope we can fill the old walls with happy memories. And new mortar, because the manor is in desperate need of refurbishment.”
Gabby understood the true nature of Sebastian’s words when they stepped through the front door.
She had just been introduced to Roberts, the butler; and Mrs.Evers, the housekeeper; when she followed Sebastian over the threshold and her gaze swept through the vestibule.
Everything her eyes touched upon, from the drapes to the carpet to the paintings on the wall, was just a tad shabby.
Faded. Worn. Gabby felt terrible for assigning such adjectives to the place when it was obviously well cared for, but a good dusting and scrubbing could only go so far with old and brittle items.
This would all have to change, and Gabby itched to help Sebastian reclaim the manor house’s glory…and possibly put her stamp upon the old bricks.
“Mrs.Evers had a light dinner prepared for us. I told her we would eat in my—our—chamber,” he said, grabbing her hand and leading her toward the stairs.
“We’re going to share a chamber?”
Sebastian stumbled to a halt and looked down at her. “I—I…” He shook his head, his ears turning pink. “I thought you might feel more comfortable if I was close by. But forgive me for making that decision without asking you first. I can ask Mrs.Evers to have my mother’s set of rooms prepared—”
“Sebastian,” Gabby interjected, tightening her grip on his hand, “of course I would like to share a chamber with you. I just hadn’t expected you to want to share one with me.”
He blinked. “Why not? I want you within an arm’s reach at all times.”
“Surely not at all times,” she said, shaking her head.
His brows drew together. “Well, I suppose not.” When she laughed, he joined her.
After a moment, his expression turned serious.
“I’ve just always hoped, although I doubted it would happen, that whenever I brought my duchess to the manor for the first time, she would want to be more than just my duchess.
She’d also…well, she’d also want to be my wife. ”
There was a difference, and her lungs constricted as she considered how isolated Sebastian must have been navigating the world wearing a mask of haughty aloofness when he was truly anything but.
Without another thought, Gabby reached up to cup Sebastian’s cheeks and kissed him.
She didn’t care who saw; in fact, she hoped the servants witnessed how much their new mistress liked her husband.
Liked? What an insignificant word to describe how her body flushed with emotion whenever Sebastian looked at her. Teased her. Kissed her. Yet like was the only word she was willing to use.
Resting back on her feet, Gabby grinned up at Sebastian’s flushed face. “Will you escort me to our chamber?”
Sebastian’s eyes searched hers, and then, rather shyly, he led her up the stairs.