Page 18 of The Lyon’s Last Gamble (The Lyon’s Den Connected World #80)

C olthrop Hall was not what Whitney was expecting. She wasn’t sure exactly what she had expected, but Colthrop Hall was so much more. It was a huge estate in one of the best parts of the city.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered as hand in hand, Christopher led her through the front door. Marble floors shone bright, with a gorgeous art piece front and center of the room. From her knowledge it looked to be Italian. It was displayed on a large velvet covered table. The design intricate. It must have taken hours upon hours to make. “Did you choose this?”

“Nay. I am sad to admit that design is no’ my forte. I believe ’tis a piece my father had commissioned some years before he passed.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” It was in that moment that she realized exactly just how little they knew about each other. Like that his father had passed for instance. “Is your mother still here?”

He shook his head. “Nay, she died when I was verra young. I doona remember her.”

Her heart sank. She couldn’t imagine not having both of her parents still in her life.

“Would ye like a drink? I fear today has been a whirlwind. A drink to relax would be nice.”

“That would be lovely.”

“Actually, before we do that. I should show ye the estate. After all, you will be running it now that ye are the lady of the house.”

She gasped. She, quite naively, hadn’t even thought about that. She should have asked her mother for advice on running a household. The basics, she knew, of course, but anything further. She was at a loss. “I don’t plan to take away any tasks from anyone.”

“Nonsense. I am sure that the staff will be more than happy to have someone around here that kens what they are doing.” He leaned in close and whispered. “I havena a clue and it frustrates them.”

“I am certain you are not that bad,” she giggled.

He shrugged his shoulders. “No need to take my word for it, ye can ask any of them. They will all say the same thing. Come, we’ll start on the first floor.”

She followed him from room to room as he explained which was which. There were far too many rooms for her to remember and she would need to spend some time with the main servant to get her bearings. That is if they were going to remain here. Perhaps they would visit often? She was unsure. They were supposed to leave for Scotland on the morrow, so maybe she wouldn’t have to expend too much energy on this property. Clearly the staff were more than capable. It had been running smoothly for quite some time without her factoring into the equation.

Upstairs, Christopher paused in front of a set of double doors. “I have saved the best for last,” he said, winking, then pushed the doors open.

Her breath caught in her throat. It was Christopher’s master chamber. A huge space that fit his personality perfectly. The wood-paneled room was decorated in several shades of blue, all melding together into a perfect palette.

A large bed, made with the fluffiest linens she’d ever seen, called to her. She smiled as a wicked plan entered into her mind. Walking further into the room, she neared the bed before turning to and crooking her finger to Christopher.

“I think it is a good choice to show this room last.”

“Is that so?” He quipped as he came closer.

“Yes. Because surely you must know that I don’t want to leave this room.”

His eyes flared, and his fingers tugged at his cravat. “I still have your chambers to show ye. So, this isn’t the actual last room for ye to see.”

She dropped on the bed, her hands gliding along the linen of the duvet. “But it is the most important one. And one I have no interest in leaving any time soon.” She patted the mattress beside her, inviting him to join her.”

In a flash, Christopher sat down, the mattress dipping under his weight, causing her to lean into him.

“Did ye still want that drink, lass?” He asked quietly.

“Oh, I am parched, husband,” she drawled out the word husband. The sound odd on her tongue. “But not for drink.” She licked her lips and smiled as his eyes dropped to her mouth.

“Ye are a vixen,” he accused playfully, pulling her onto his lap, and nipped at her lips.

She giggled. “You bring that out in me. No one else has ever had such an effect.”

“No one?” He lifted a brow in question, and she knew he was referring to Harold.

“That was not like this. I was young then. I’ve grown and matured.”

He looked at her as if he were starving. “Grown indeed, lass.”

Grinding her hips, she elicited a groan from Christopher. She felt powerful. Fearless. She hopped off his lap and turned, looking at him over her shoulder. “Undo my buttons?” She asked sultrily.

“Gladly.” He jumped up from the bed, his fingers making quick work of the numerous buttons on her gown. His lips kissing each inch of bare skin that was revealed with each release.

The cool air, replaced by his warm lips had her shivering, but not from the cold.

Desire was the only thing she felt. Deep down, it burned through her veins.

“All unbuttoned, lass,” he murmured, his voice husky.

She turned, clutching her gown to her chest. She wanted Christopher’s eyes on her when she let the material go, revealing herself to him.

His dark eyes followed her hands, watching her every move.

Letting the gown fall, exposing her breasts, his eyes blew wide, his tongue darting out of the corner of his mouth.

“Ye are the most beautiful thing I have e’er seen,” he confessed softly, reaching up a hand to cup her breast, flicking his thumb over the turgid nipple.

She hissed at the contact and stepped out of the pool of material that had gathered at her feet. She removed the rest of her clothing until she stood, completely naked in front of him. Confident in her body, her nakedness wasn’t anything she was ashamed of.

His groan of satisfaction had her smiling.

He circled his hands around her waist and pulled her close, allowing him to take a stiff peak into his mouth.

Throwing her head back at the delightful sensation, it was her turn to moan. But she didn’t want Christopher taking the lead on this. No. Whitney wanted to be the one to make the moves. To direct the actions being taken.

She stepped back ignoring the way he jutted out his bottom lip in the cutest pout she’d ever seen. Bending, she took his lip between her teeth and bit gently, before licking the bite of pain away.

Grasping the lapels of his jacket, she pushed them over his shoulders and down his arms until he quickly shrugged out of it, throwing it on the floor to join the pile of her clothes.

He pulled the tails of his shirt from his trews and pulled it over his head, discarding it on top of his jacket.

Whitney licked her lips at the sight in front of her. The muscles of his arms bulged, and the ridged muscles of his abdomen called out to her. Dropping to her knees, she licked the hard muscles, nibbling her way down his stomach, until she reached the waistband of his pants.

With a devilish look, she popped the buttons on his trousers, and Christopher obliged by lifting his hips so he could shimmy out of them after toeing off his boots.

His cock sprang free. Long, hard, standing at attention, waiting for her. She closed her fist around the hard velvet and Christopher threw his head back, hissing at the contact.

Empowered by his response, she darted her tongue out, running it along the thick vein on the underside of his manhood.

His hand grasped the back of her neck as he brought his head up to look her in the eye. “Lass.”

But he lost all ability to speak when she closed her mouth around the crown.

“Jesus,” he said, his hand gripping her neck tighter as his hips involuntarily jutted up to her.

She smiled around his cock and brought her mouth down, drawing him in before easing back, nibbling on the tip. Then taking him fully into her mouth once more.

His hands on her cheeks pulled her back. Eyes shining so dark they were nearly black. “Ye need to cease, lass. I’ll ne’er…”

Pushing on his chest, forcing him to lie back on the bed, she climbed atop his lap, settling so that their cores met. Lifting her hips, she positioned his hardness at her entry and sank down, enveloping him into her softness. Reveling at the feeling of her body stretching to accommodate his size as she moaned in pleasure.

His eyes met hers, a pained smile on his handsome face as she lifted her hips up and down, finding a pace that would satisfy them both.

Soon, he grasped her hips, quickening the pace, as his strained voice repeated her name over and over again.

Heat flushed over her body, as her insides tightened. Bringing her to the precipice that she found so enticing. Her legs began to contract and Christopher, sensing that she was about to lose control, flipped her onto her back, taking the lead as he drove his hips forward, over and over again.

The pressure within her built, rising into an inferno that she could no longer contain.

“Christopher,” she called out, scoring his back with her nails.

He drove harder, sweat broke out on his brow, before he dropped his head, nuzzling her neck.

“Come with me, lass,” he whispered in her ear, then gave the lobe a quick bite.

That was all it took. Fierce shudders overtook her body as she lost all control over her actions, her movements. Her breath coming in short gasps as she closed her arms around him, bringing him closer. She wanted to feel him in her, over her. On every inch of her body.

“Whitney,” he growled low, with a fierce shudder as he drove himself to the hilt within her, holding himself there as his seed filled her.

He collapsed beside her, drawing her to his side as he tucked her head under his chin.

“Ye are amazing.”

She smiled into his chest, happier than she had been in a very long time.