He loved how that word sounded on her lips. Closing the door, he came around to her side of the bed, bent, and kissed her. “Why look, my lovely wife is alone.” He wished nothing more than to ravish her at that moment, but felt guilty for intruding on her private time.
“Alone no longer, it would seem.” She set aside the book. “Is there something you need?”
Oh, was there. His lips twitched. “Nothing is amiss. I was reviewing accounts when I realized I miss you fiercely.”
She scooted toward the center of the bed, setting aside her book. “Sit with me, then. Or should we take a stroll in the garden? It’s a lovely day.”
He sat on the edge, but didn’t stretch his legs out beside her. “Would you prefer we walk? I’ve seen the garden this week. It holds no fascination for me. Not like you do. But if you’d rather?—”
“I’m happy for your company, no matter where we are, Simon.” She plumped the pillow by his side. “Sit with me. Tell me about your day.”
He took off his boots and leaned against the carved headboard, taking her hand in his.
His day was nothing to make note of, really, but he described the little things he’d done since he’d seen her at breakfast. Somehow, as he spoke, his hand found its way onto her thigh and he absently kneaded the muscle through the layers of her clothing.
He was fond of her legs, her thighs thick and feminine.
She asked questions, which he answered. Their discussion reminded him of afternoons by the river, simply enjoying the passage of time. He was happy to make time in his day for this.
He saw her hand gather the fabric of her gown, inching it up.
His mouth watered. Making even more time for her body wasn’t a bad idea, either.
Rather than tucking his hand under the fabric, he decided to see what she would do.
Xenia was so bold in their lovemaking, and he gained much pleasure being her audience as well as her lover.
When her hem reached the tops of her stockings, she lifted her bottom, baring her hips and the glorious delights below. No longer able to simply watch, he swept his hand up her thigh, his little finger flirting with her curls. Choosing to taunt her a little, he asked, “And how has your day been?”
“Quite pleasant.” She went into some detail, but he didn’t hear. Her legs parted, and he stopped breathing for a few seconds. How did her body still have such a pull on him?
Still reclining against the headboard, he drew his finger up her slit and found dampness forming.
What a fortunate man he was that the woman he loved enjoyed pleasures of the flesh as much as he did.
“Are you finding everything to your liking? You know if there’s anything you require, you must simply ask, and I’ll make certain you have it.
” He pressed his finger between her folds and swiped upward.
Her hips flexed, and she hissed, one leg spreading wider. “You are very good at providing what I need, my lord.”
He liked when she called him that almost as much as when she said husband.
She’d never felt the class difference between them, even as children, and her use of the honorific had been her way of flirting when she grew older.
It gave him the same rush of pleasure as when he instructed her to perform some act, and she did so.
As he continued to stroke her damp flesh, her hips tipped slightly. “You receive what I offer so graciously, love.” He had to adjust his cock with his other hand, as it swelled painfully, but he wanted this time to be hers. If he could stand it.
He palmed her cunny and pressed his middle finger inside her.
She rocked into him with a moan, continuing to move in the rhythm he set.
With his thumb, he strummed her nub, then stroked faster to catch up to her.
Legs trembling, her familiar whimpers rose as her head tipped back against the headboard.
When he curled his finger inside her hot sheath, her eyes opened wide. “Oh, yes!”
Smiling, he watched the tension build on her face, her brows drawing together, her lips forming a pout that begged to be kissed. Her release came, spilling past his fingers, softening her brow. She was stunning in ecstasy.
He continued to touch her as she came down from her orgasm, then he sucked his fingers clean of her juices. While his cock screamed for its own release, he felt strangely satisfied.
* * *
Xenia opened her eyes and smiled when she found his gaze. “I have the most generous husband. But don’t think you are the sole bestower of passion.” She grinned and licked her lips in anticipation.
With a swift movement, she had his cock free and pointing skyward. She leaned forward, her hair cascading down like a curtain. “Now let me show you how quickly the baker’s daughter can stoke a fire within the viscount, and maybe bring a rise.”
Her hands roamed with purpose, shoving his shirt higher, finding all the places where she knew he was sensitive.
Stroking his tight belly, flicking a nail on his nipples, her hands explored.
She moved to sit beside his hips, allowing her mouth and eyes to explore the lean rod she enjoyed so much.
She grasped the base, stroking with enough pressure to please him.
He grew harder as she watched, making her cunny throb despite its recent fulfillment.
As she drew her hand up his shaft, she felt the ridges of his veins.
Her other hand found his sack, testing the weight of his stones.
Bending over him, she lapped at the fat head, where droplets of his seed pooled.
He moaned, smoothing one hand up the back of her thigh, the other one fisted in her hair.
She took him fully in her mouth, tasting the saltiness of his arousal.
As she bobbed up and down on him, she gripped the base with a firm hand, squeezing in time with her moves.
His bottom thrust in rhythm, lifting himself to her mercies, setting a pace that had them both gasping for air, lost in the throes of shared intensity.
“Xenia,” he managed between labored breaths, his voice hoarse. “You unravel me completely.”
He pushed deeper, his cock brushing the back of her throat, and she fought the reflexive spasm of her muscles as her eyes watered. She brought her hand higher on his length to keep him from entering her mouth fully, moving her fist in time with her head.
“God—” he broke off when he climaxed inside her mouth. Hot waves of his seed filled her mouth, and she swallowed, her hand milking the last of it from him.
His arms dropped to the coverlet, and he lay sprawled, completely spent. She smiled as she licked away a bit of his seed remaining on her lips. She had pleased him well. That prostrate form was not the body of a man under his own control.
She let him lie there as his breathing evened, his body so limp she wondered if he slept. Cuddling beside him would be lovely, but she was hungry. She was loath to leave him when he’d sought her company, however, so she stayed.
She would remember this afternoon, in the future.
Someday, she might wish to sway Simon to her point of view, and sucking him to satiation seemed the perfect remedy.
She might prefer letting him have his way with her in all the ways he’d shown her, but a woman always needed to have a tool of her own handy when the time came.