Page 18 of The Duke's List
When her mouth dropped open in a small “O,” he took the opportunity to seize his prey.
When Sidmouth pulledher into his arms and covered her mouth with his, the first taste of Jane made him want to do other things, many other things, but he steeled himself to stay within the boundaries of the blasted list. The second demand on the list was not just kissing, but kissing for hours. He realized this would require some creativity on his part, but he knew he was up to the task, and speaking of “up.”
When he finally straightened to breathe, Jane gave the bulge pushing against his trousers a skeptical look. Although the dainty window seat in her small bedroom in the stable master’s cottage didn’t give him much room to maneuver, he was determined to stick to the requirements of her list.
“Kissing for hours.” He pushed away from her, took off the jacket he’d worn earlier to the actors’ supper, and tossed it onto the bed. “That’s what my lady wants, and that’s what she’ll get.”
He settled in to explore her lips more, nipping and licking his way around the tender, puffy flesh. He spent a lot more time on her pert little chin and then moved on to her neck. When he worked his way around to her nape and blew a little air into the tender notch, Jane shivered and moaned a little. He’d have to start a list of his own of what sensual things caused Jane to melt in his arms.
When he came back to her lips and suckled her for long minutes while inserting his tongue into her warm mouth, he noticed two very important parts of Jane’s anatomy seemed to be begging for attention through the thin bodice fabric of her Beatrice costume. He moved to one of her tiny, shell-shaped ears and licked for a bit before whispering, “Is there any place on your delightful body you won’t allow me to kiss?”
She didn’t answer, but her body jerked at the suggestion. That was all the invitation he needed. He reached down and pushed open the laces on her bodice.
Jane screamedout in pleasure when Sidmouth’s mouth closed over her left nipple and suckled deeply. The very sight of his large hand plucking at her other nipple at the same time had sent her over the edge. His hands were not soft and pale like those of the London dandies she’d known. His were the tanned, calloused hands of a farmer. There was nothing his tenants did that he didn’t end up down in the dirt helping them do.
When he finally abandoned her breasts, the cold air was a shock, making her want to pull him back, but she was determined to follow her list through to the end, with no cheating on his part, or hers. She was so aroused that she barely noticed how he pulled her costume from her in one smooth pull and neatly folded it over the back of a chair.Hmmm. Her husband was a very dab hand at removing a woman’s clothing.
She giggled uncontrollably when he began to kiss and suckle each of her toes, one at a time, giving them endless exploration and adoration. After her toes were thoroughly sated, he attacked her feet, arches, heels and ankles, with a deep massage and kisses. Guttural moans rolled out of her mouth and throat.
He came back to her mouth for more deep kisses and then looked into her eyes. “You’re sure there is nowhere on your body my kisses can’t go?”
She nodded a wobbly assent. When she’d put her list of demands together, she’d had no idea what a man like Sidmouth would do with it.
He began with her ankles and kissed his way up to her calves where he stopped for another set of massages. When he reached her knees, he seemed intent on covering every boney nook and cranny, with an especially long stop to kiss and lap the back of her knees which made her quiver and shake.
She’d experienced so much pleasure that her quim ached for him, but she didn’t dare reveal that weakness to a man like him. He’d forever hold her lust for him over her head. She’d never regain the advantage in their coupling.
He’d made it as far as the sensitive skin of her inner thighs when she wondered for the first time in her life whether she could die of too much pleasure.
She bucked off the cushion where he had her pinned when he nipped with his teeth at her inner thighs. She was as wet as if he’d already penetrated her with his cock.
When his tongue lapped at the outer edges of the lips of her sex, she let out a long sob. He didn’t know it but he’d won. He’d taken her list and used it like a weapon against her. He was also a master of the nubbin of pleasure she’d been tutored in so thoroughly by Christina.
When she tried to push him away, he shook his head and gripped her hips with his hands. He swirled his tongue around her labia until she jerked in pleasure, then thrust his tongue into her center and lapped at the folds of her sex until she cried in release.
He lifted her from the cushioned bench, carried her to the bed, and covered her with blankets before putting his jacket back on and walking quietly out the door without another word. He’d never even taken off his own clothing.
She should have felt exultant that she’d won this round, but somehow, she didn’t feel that way. What she felt was an empty ache at the core of her body where Sidmouth should be.
Chapter Fourteen
Sidmouth trampedacross the lower meadow through wet grass and mist to meet one of Oxley’s sons along with Captain Thorne and Major Bourne who were herding twenty or thirty sheep. Although it was barely light, he had plenty of time to throw on work clothes and go out to meet them, because he’d heard Bert braying for at least a half a mile out.
He pulled out his pocket watch and double-checked the hour. He had plenty of time to make sure the flock ended up in the sturdily fenced field his workers had secured the day before.
He would not miss the eleven o’clock dress rehearsal with the actors forMuch Ado About Nothing. He actually looked forward to trading on-stage barbs with “Lady Disdain.” The same “Lady Disdain” he’d thoroughly pleasured the night before. He couldn’t stop smiling at the memory of how he’d turned her impudent list into something he’d thoroughly enjoyed.
He finally met the haphazard set of sheepherders with Bert doing as good a job as any of his herding dogs. “I’ll bet you never thought you’d be marching mutton through English fields, Major Bourne. And you, Captain Thorne. This is probably the least ship-shape bunch of swabs you’ve ever pushed around.”
Bert brayed louder and trotted close to Sidmouth. “Yes, yes, I have your pay right here.” He pulled an apple from his pocket. Bert promptly crunched through his pay and trotted off again, as if he could care less he’d been favored by the duke.
“That is the lament of my life. Everyone is my friend as long as I’m handing out favors.”
Bourne came to his side and slapped him hard on the back. “We’re not here for the pay, Your Grace. We just wanted to see how you’re getting on with your list.”
If looks could maim, Bourne would be lying facedown on the ground.
Oxley’s boy, Arthur, gave the three of them an odd look before continuing to shout encouragement to the strays at the edge of the flock. Bert, Thorne’s pet donkey, seemed an odd natural for herding, taking his cues from Arthur whenever several of the stubborn animals tried to wander off. He’d trot after them, bray, or push the most stubborn ones back into the fold.