by Golden Angel
Rex
Hearing his Christian name, a name he had not given anyone leave to use in over a decade, uttered from his wife’s lips as he took her for the first time had a more profound effect on him than he could have ever imagined. She undulated beneath him as he began to move, no longer able to hold back from the need riding him. Soft breasts brushed against his chest, her wet clasp tightening around his cock as he thrust in deep, her soft moans filling the air.
Rex held to the reins of his control as tightly as he could, keeping his strokes slow, measured, taking her along with him as his pleasure mounted.
To help distract himself, he dropped his head and lavished kisses over her collarbone, throat, and lips. She moved beneath him, trying to meet him kiss for kiss, hampered by his arms holding her in place. Rex enjoyed her small struggles, her little whimpers of frustration. Married to him, she would have to become used to such things.
The thought of all the things he would introduce her to drove him to thrust harder, faster, increasing both of their pleasure.
“Mary,” he growled her name in return, pressing her hands into the bed.
Moving his lips over her throat as her head fell back, he found a spot at the sensitive point between her neck and shoulder and sucked. Rex had never been one to leave such marks upon his lovers—welts from whips and crops, bottoms turned red, impressions of rope left behind on wrists and neck, but never something from his mouth—never something so intimate, so personal. He had been careful to avoid doing any such thing, not wanting any lady to feel she had a claim on him.
With Mary, he no longer needed to consider such things. He could explore his desires, completely unfettered, and he found the urge to mark her in some manner to be overwhelming.
Her cunt throbbed around him as he sucked, the taste of her flesh changing slightly against the assault, and she writhed in erotic abandon.
“Michael!”
With a groan, he pulled his head away, positioning himself so he could thrust freely between her thighs. The slick channel welcomed him, her hips coming up to meet him, legs wrapping around his body and urging him on. She began to quiver, and his own self-control finally slipped completely, just as the first shudders of her climax began.
Mary
The hot bliss consuming her senses was too much to bear. Mary felt as if she was unraveling, her entire world dwindling down to one narrow point—the delicious ecstasy rising as Rex… Michael buried himself inside her. They were so intertwined, she could no longer tell where she left off and he began.
The press of his body against hers, into hers, was overwhelming. Pleasure soared higher as he picked up his pace, thrusting hard and fast, filling her completely. She sobbed at the intense sensations that felt almost too good. With every stroke, his body rubbed over her throbbing pleasure nubbin, driving her that much closer to penultimate ecstasy.
“Michael…” she cried out, her voice the only release valve for the pressure building inside. Another hard stroke, his groin pressing against hers, rubbing, circling, Mary screamed as the immense rapture crashed over her. There was no surcease. He rocked, fully buried, using his body to stimulate her netherlips and clit, driving her wild with passion.
She fought against his hold as the ecstasy became exquisite agony, tears sliding down the sides of her cheeks. The sensations were too much, the climax too intense as the powerful waves flooded her senses, wreaking havoc on them.
A second, stronger climax buried her in fevered passion, and Michael finally moved again. Two hard thrusts and she felt him slide home again, a deep groan swelling up from his chest. The shaft inside, harder, thicker, throbbed against her tight walls, warmth spreading through her lower body as he emptied his seed into her.
They panted for breath, each shocked by the fervor of their consummation, the pleasure slowly curling away in little eddies and currents, leaving Mary limp and spent beneath her husband. Closing her eyes, he relaxed atop her, his hands no longer gripping hers so tightly, then she felt the soft press of his lips against her temple.
Mary smiled. Turned her head. Met his lips with her own.
These were softer kisses… gentler. The passion was not gone but muted, tamed after their mutual satisfaction. It wasn’t until he lifted his head, smiling drowsily down at her, and her heart stuttered, she realized these kisses were far more dangerous than any kisses they had exchanged before. That was also when she realized he was still inside of her, although slowly shrinking and slipping away.
Blushing hotly, she dropped her gaze, which meant she was looking at his bare chest, at the broad muscles, the curling gold and brown hairs… She closed her eyes, feeling her cheeks burning up.
Chuckling, Michael turned onto his back, pulling her with him, so she ended up curled on her side with her cheek on his chest. Holding her hand, he rested her palm against his chest. It was the first she had really been able to touch him, but even now, he was controlling.
She yawned, wincing slightly when her legs shifted. He lifted his head, frowning down at her.
“Does it hurt?”
“Not exactly. I feel a little sore.” Well-used. That was how she felt, but she could not bring herself to say it aloud. She felt thoroughly rumpled and used, but in a wonderfully delicious manner. Fully sated. The bits between her legs were still tingling in the aftermath.
“Hmm.” His response was not very revealing. Dropping his head back on his pillow, his fingers idly played with hers, stroking and intertwining above his chest.
“Is that usual?” she asked curiously and felt him stiffen in disapproval.
“You are asking me?”
“Well, you have more experience with this sort of thing than me,” Mary said, exasperated. Had he expected her to be missish?
A moment passed, then he relaxed, letting out a slow chuckle.
“I suppose I do, at that.” The shoulder beneath her head lifted slightly. “Sore, yes. If anything hurts, you will tell me.” It was not a question. Mary hid a smile, even though he could not see her expression. A very protective lion, he was.
Still, she was a bit perturbed by his disapproval at her question. Mary was well aware he had far more experience at lovemaking, and it seemed silly to pretend otherwise. She had many more questions, even with Arabella and Cynthia’s detailed explanations. Perhaps she should ask some of the other women who were part of the Society.
“When is the next Society event?” she asked idly, not really thinking about it. She was far too muzzy, too happily lazy to be on guard. That was a mistake.
Rex sat up, and Mary found herself dropping back onto the bed, summarily evicted from the nice little nook under his arm.
“Why do you need to know?” He sounded downright affronted. Staring up at him, confused, her bewilderment was quickly wiped away by his next words. “You will not be looking for someone else to satisfy you this Season, if ever.”
Suddenly feeling naked in a way she had not before, Mary scooted away, aware of the liquid seeping out from her private area. Grabbing hold of the sheet, she pulled it over her nudity, which caused Rex to frown even harder. She scowled back at him. He was not going to accuse her of unfaithfulness and get to look at her naked body.
“I was hoping to talk to some of the other ladies.” She pulled the sheet around her tighter. “I thought they might be able to answer some questions.” Belatedly, she also remembered her mission. Questioning ladies for her own edification, but also looking to see who might be a traitor—she had multiple reasons for wanting to attend another Society event.
Rex
Rex was startled by the hurt and jealousy sitting like a lead ball in the center of his chest. He did not like the idea of his wife joining in the Society’s activities. The expected abatement of his possessiveness had not been realized—if anything, he felt more jealous at the very idea of her being entertained by another man.
He had only had her once, and he had done a very good job of it. There should be no reason for her to hurry to ano
ther’s bed.
Strangely, he did not like the idea of her talking to the Society’s ladies, either. While Rex had always felt secure in his own position among the Society, he was aware the ladies… compared. Would speaking with them make Mary even more curious about other gentlemen?
Still, he did not like to see his wife pulling away from him or covering herself. Doing his best not to scowl at the offending sheet now hiding her delicious curves, he tugged at it, leaning forward.
“I can answer your questions,” he said, letting his voice lower seductively.
Mary, unmoved by his sudden change in tone, her brow furrowed in a ferocious scowl. She rather looked like an angry kitten, though he knew better than to voice the comparison. She was so petite and prim, made to look even smaller by the heavy furnishings in his room. With her blonde hair tousled and falling around her shoulders, she looked delightfully rumpled. Rex already regretted his previous tone. He should have cuddled and coddled her from the moment she started speaking, then demonstrated why she did not need the Society at all.
“You did not even want to tell me whether being sore is usual.” Tilting her nose up haughtily, the effect was ruined when the sheet slipped about her breasts, and she had to yank it back into place. Inwardly, Rex sighed. The question had bothered him, but he did not know why. Maybe because it brought others into their bedroom.
While he was certainly not ashamed of his past or his liaisons, he did not want them to be a part of his and Mary’s experience. Having her remind him of the many women who had come before her had felt… wrong. Invasive to the little cocoon he had mentally wrapped them in.
“I apologize.” Leaning forward, even more, he tugged harder on the sheet, giving her the option of coming with it or letting it fall from her breasts. Still scowling, she chose to scoot closer, though she leaned away from him, holding even tighter to the sheet. “It was an unexpected question, and I do not like to think of anyone else while I have you beside me.”
Her expression softened. Rex smiled and tugged again, pulling her forward, even more reluctantly. He could not ever remember trying to seduce a woman into cuddling with him, but he desperately wanted to get back to where they were a few minutes ago. To his relief, Mary allowed him to reel her in, and he settled them back down.
Stroking her hair, he found some of his happy calm had evaporated. The question kept ringing around his head.
What was he going to do about his wife and the Society?
Chapter 19
Mary
“Where are you going?” The baffled question came from behind Mary as she was pulling on her gloves.
Mary froze. The last she saw him, her husband had been safely tucked away in the library. Mrs. Maple had assured her he would be there for the next few hours, his custom on Sundays. They had broken their fast together before he had taken his leave to write some letters, Mary had finished putting her room to rights with Rose and Mrs. Maple’s help, then she had realized there was still time to make her way to Hyde Park.
Initially, she had not planned to meet her friends, not knowing how they would spend their first day as a married couple. It appeared he did not plan on changing his routine, so she thought she would be able to sneak out and return without him ever being the wiser. Now, she had been caught readying herself for a jaunt outdoors without informing him.
Straightening, she turned to face him, doing her best to settle her nerves before answering. Rex stood before her, not Michael. Yesterday, in his bedroom, he had been Michael, completely and unreservedly, but now he was every inch the lion, the king of his house, and a displeased and suspicious Rex at that.
“Hyde Park. My friends and I meet there every Sunday.” Nothing but the truth, although she was omitting some information—the existence of a fourth friend and why they were meeting.
Rex remained still, studying her closely. It was unnerving how easily he seemed to read her, especially when she was trying to hide something. Most people didn’t think twice about anything she told them. Beginning to feel nervous, Mary let her own gaze drift over him, distracting herself with how handsome her husband was.
They had missed the church services this morning and did not plan to leave the house, so he was dressed more casually for the day. He still cut a fine figure of a man. In fact, she might even like him a little better like this—relaxed, without the stiff collar, no jacket so she could admire his shoulders even more easily—a comfortable lion in his lair. A sight not everyone would be privy to.
“Give me ten minutes, and I will go with you,” he replied after a long moment.
“No!” The word burst forth before she could stop it, and Mary knew it was a mistake. She clapped her hands over her mouth, but it was too late.
Eyes blazing with new suspicion, Rex frowned, stepping into her room and shutting the door behind him. The only escape now would be through the window. The adjoining door to his rooms was closer to him than to her. She backed up a step, dropping her hands by her sides, mind racing.
What was it about him that discomposed her so? Only around him, she babbled, words she did not mean to say came bubbling up, only around him, she became indiscreet. Mary did not know why, but at this rate, it was going to make keeping her secrets impossible.
A thought that had been simmering in the back of her mind slid forward. How was she going to complete her mission and keep her secrets, now that she knew he was adamantly opposed to her engaging with the Society? She had not pressed the issue yesterday after her question about the next Society event, not after his initial reaction to the idea.
The rest of the day had been rather lovely, not just pleasurably so, but intimately. They had cuddled, caressed, kissed, had supper together, and when she was too sore for another joining, Rex had used his tongue to bring her to another climax, and she had returned the favor. The connection between them had burned bright and hot, and now, looking at him, she could feel it straining.
“I…” She searched for the right words to explain without betraying Evie. Pressing her lips together, she looked at him pleadingly, wordlessly begging him to understand, but it was clear from his hardening expression, he did not.
Crossing his arms over his chest, he waited. Mary let out her breath in a rush. She did not see another way forward.
“Come with me,” she said finally. “I am meeting my friends, but I have one friend you have not met yet, and she has secrets. They are not my mine to tell, but if she gives me permission, I will tell you everything.” She would have to hope that would be enough to keep the connection she already cherished shining bright.
Expression blank, Rex nodded his acceptance.
Rex
On the way to Hyde Park, he and Mary had barely exchanged two words. Sitting stiffly on the seat beside him, she seemed miles away, lost in her own thoughts. Rex had to stifle the urge to haul her over his lap and spank her secrets out of her. While the notion was tempting, it was also unlikely to foster any real trust between them and wasn’t how he wanted to start his marriage. Especially as they were in public in an open carriage, a choice he was now somewhat regretting.
He had spent all morning pondering how to go forward with his marriage and the Society. The path he had once assumed he would take no longer appealed. After considering the options, he had gone in search of his wife, only to find her readying to leave the house.
During the ride, he conjured up a hundred different possibilities for this mysterious ‘friend.’ A man? Someone entirely unsuitable to be acquainted with? A vagabond? A thief?
The last thing he expected was a perfectly presentable servant woman—he assumed by her serviceable dress—sitting beneath a willow tree with Misses Davis and Pennyworth.
“Wait here,” Mary said, her voice pleading but with a hint of steel. Contemplating the request for a moment, Rex finally nodded. He saw no reason not to wait. One way or another, he was going to receive an explanation.
“Let me help you down, at least.” He waited for her small
nod of acceptance before getting to his feet.
Despite the barouche stopping a small distance from them, the three women had become alert as soon as it came to a halt. When Rex got out of the carriage, they stood, and the mystery woman faded back, the other two standing in front of her as if to shield her. Curiosity roused to a peak, he gritted his teeth against his impatience and helped Mary out of the carriage.
Only slightly mollified by the apologetic look she gave him before hurrying toward the other three, he leaned back against the side of the barouche, crossing his arms over his chest. The horses were well trained and stood quietly, the groom patiently waiting and pretending nothing out of the ordinary was happening. Mary had not wanted a groom, but Rex had insisted. Otherwise, he would have had to be the one to wrangle with the horses, which would not be conducive to meeting her mystery friend.
From the gestures Misses Davis and Pennyworth were making, he could all too easily imagine their conversation, although they kept their voices far too low to make out.
Why did you bring him?
He is not supposed to be here.
What were you thinking?
The woman in brown put her hand up, and Mary leaned in. He could imagine her explanations, too, and his lips twitched at her agitation. There was some comfort that he was not the only one in such a state.
Taking the opportunity to dispassionately observe the women, Rex noted both Miss Davis and Miss Pennyworth were garbed similarly to Mary—fashionably, but in more muted colors, so they did not draw the eye. Well, Miss Pennyworth had done her best. She naturally seemed to attract attention, and her wardrobe was in slightly bolder shades than most debutantes, but she had put forth the effort to dampen her effect somewhat.
Most people’s gazes would probably skip right over them, thinking them to be nothing more than young women meeting by the Serpentine to gossip. The woman in brown blended in and had easily been hidden behind the two misses. Indeed, if he had not already met Miss Pennyworth, his eye would have been drawn to her first, then to Miss Davis, and only then would he have wondered about the third woman, if he noticed her at all.