The Seduction of His Wife

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The Seduction of His Wife Page 23

by Tiffany Clare


  “We should right ourselves,” she said breathlessly.

  “I think we should stay here. Like this.”

  “We couldn’t.”

  She tried to rise from his lap. He refused to let her up and held her hips tight in his grasp. He was not ready to release her. Not ready to go back to arguing about her damn paintings. He just wanted to stay like this. Without a care. He wanted to be alone with her and forget everything else that hung in the balance.

  The only sounds to be heard were the crickets that had started to chirp again, the birds that sang above them, and the soothing rustle of leaves in the hot breeze.

  “We should indeed. It’s just the two of us. No one to interrupt us.” He rolled his tongue around her nipple. “I’m clay in your hands, and you don’t even know it, do you?”

  “You aren’t.”

  Her finger traced little circles over his shoulder. It wasn’t difficult to understand what she was getting at. He didn’t want to think of anything but the two of them. He wanted nothing more than to forget civilization and spend the day wrapped around his wife in sweet oblivion.

  He pressed his lips to hers. His tongue ran along the seam. Her tongue shyly met his. He pulled away to say, “Stay with me, Emma. I need you again.”

  “Shouldn’t we be standing ten feet apart glaring at each other instead of indulging in this base behavior?” Her words were said teasingly.

  “I like this base behavior. Your cunt is still milking my cock. You can’t honestly want to stop.”

  “You talk so crudely to me.” Her lashes lowered, her cheeks darkened.

  He stroked his thumb over her cheek.

  “You do look pretty when you’re blushing. Say something naughty. Repeat my words for me.” He thrust up into her with a groan.

  “I can’t,” she answered.

  “Yes, you can.”

  “It wouldn’t be lady-like.”

  “Just this once. Say cock. Say you like my cock thrusting into your core.”

  Had he known it was possible for her to turn completely red he’d have suggested she speak ribald words to him long before now.

  Emma shook her head and sucked in her bottom lip.

  Grasping the back of her neck, he pulled her closer so he could nibble on her kiss-swollen lips. “You’ll say it one day. The idea of you uttering wicked words makes me want to fuck you senseless.”

  He smiled against her mouth when she jerked away at his choice in words.

  Lifting her from his lap, he stood her in front of his face. He wanted to taste her. To see that part of herself she usually kept hidden. Finding the ties on her pantalets, he pulled them down her legs.

  She grasped his hand before he could lift her calf free of the material on one side.

  “What are you about?” she asked.

  “I’m of a mind to taste you.” He sucked and licked her thigh in demonstration for what he planned to do.

  When her pantalets fell to the ground, he stared at the golden thatch of hair between her thighs. It was a few shades darker than the curls about her face, but still blonde. Tasting a woman was something he’d never done before. Never wanted to do. Everything was different with his wife.

  He placed a kiss against the short coarse hair.

  “You can’t do that.” She tried to yank up the damp material that had fallen around one of her ankles.

  Grasping her buttocks, he pulled her closer. With his free hand, he stroked the lips at her core, separating them with his thumb before parting the petals of her sex. The folds were pink like a tea rose in bloom.

  “Richard, stop.”

  Instead of explaining what he planned to do, he gave her a last warning before he stuck his tongue between the folds. “Put your hands on the tree for support.”

  “Whatever for?”

  Sucking one lip of her sex into his mouth, then the next, he dipped his tongue down through the saturated folds until he found the swollen nub of her clitoris.

  Her hands slapped hard against the tree behind his back. Her body swayed a little closer. “Oh, goodness gracious.”

  Then she gave over to him. Her legs spread marginally, allowing him to press his face into her cunny harder. He stuck his tongue inside her sheath and fucked her that way for a few strokes before sucking at her clitoris again.

  “I can’t hold myself up.”

  With a growl, he let her go long enough to stand away from the tree and tumble her down onto a soft patch of grass. He didn’t like interruptions. Not at all. He wanted to taste and fuck her to his heart’s content. Until neither of them could walk.

  He pushed her legs apart with his shoulders and licked at her core. Her thighs squeezed around his head, her pelvis thrust against his mouth, then she was coming. Before she could stop convulsing from the pleasure he gave her, he climbed atop her body and shoved his cock deep into her sheath, right up to the cods.

  Bracing himself on his elbows, he watched Emma’s face. She made eye contact with him and they stared at each other while his pace increased. His crisis was coming on fast. When his seed pumped out of him for a second time, he traced the seam of her lips with his tongue until he was finally sated. Her legs still clung tight around his hips.

  The fact that she didn’t want to get up made him grin.

  “And what is it you plan on doing for the remainder of the afternoon, wife?”

  She grinned up at him. “You.”

  Chapter 19

  Here I sit, penning another letter. Time changes us all, but some habits cannot be broken.

  Grace sat to Mr. Lioni’s right when dinner was served. She was positively glowing. Emma had kept her word that she’d not tell a soul. She hadn’t even mentioned a word to her husband this afternoon when they’d talked after he’d done such wicked things to her. And outside where anyone could have seen them!

  Oh, dear, that thought had her blushing. She reached for her glass of water and took a healthy gulp, hoping it would calm her flush. Richard stared knowingly at her. His fingers steepled in front of his mouth so she couldn’t see the smirk he doubtlessly sported.

  Her whole body ached, but she wanted to hide in her room with him for at least a few days. To do every wicked thing running through her mind. To even taste him as he had tasted her.

  She arched her brows at him and looked down to her plate to cut off a piece of fish. She couldn’t focus on dinner if she stared at him all evening.

  When was Grace planning to say something? That would provide a wonderful distraction.

  Everyone seemed unusually quiet at the table. Abby was absently pushing her food around on her plate. Mr. Lioni was sliding sly glances at Grace as though the rest in attendance couldn’t see them acting like infatuated lovers. Richard was sipping at his wine, watching her over the rim as he swirled around the contents in his glass. He’d finished eating some time ago. She supposed he’d worked up a healthy appetite after being engaged in excessive sport all afternoon.

  Emma cleared her throat and turned to Abby to break the spell her husband held over her. “How did you spend your afternoon?”

  “Sent off my letter.” Abby pushed around a green bean on her plate. “My friend wants me to stay with her for a while. She’s due to have her first baby any day now. She’s asked me to be there for the delivery.”

  “That’s not something unmarried women usually tend to, Abby,” Grace said.

  “True,” Abby continued, “but she’s very alone out in Northumberland.”

  “You plan to travel there on your own?” Emma asked incredulously.

  Her sister couldn’t be serious. Abby had never traveled alone. She’d never been separated from her elder sisters. What would they do without her around? What of all their plans to find Abby a husband?

  “You can’t leave yet, Abby,” Grace said. “You have to be here for the wedding.”

  “Wedding?” Abby’s head snapped up and she stared at Grace. At least Abby had stopped playing with her food. “What wedding?”
/>   Richard stared at Mr. Lioni with a frown, but Mr. Lioni only had eyes for Grace.

  “We’re to be wed once the banns are read.” Grace positively beamed as she looked to her fiancé. “We planned to make a formal announcement over refreshments in the drawing room.”

  Mr. Lioni leaned close to Grace and kissed her cheek.

  Emma sighed. What would it be like to be so in love that you displayed it to the world around you? She looked back to her husband. He was watching Mr. Lioni, one brow quirked in question. He put his wine on the table and crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned back in the chair.

  “You’re getting married?” Abby frowned, not looking the least bit thrilled with the news. “You should have told me, Grace! I’ve already sent my post off, telling my friend I’d be on the road in less than a week.”

  “Can’t you send another letter explaining the situation? I can’t have my wedding without you here, Abby.”

  Abby pushed her plate away from her and tossed her napkin on the table. “It’s too late. If I don’t leave by the end of the week, I’ll not make it in time for the child.”

  “You mean baby,” Emma corrected.

  “Yes.” Abby patted her lips with her napkin and didn’t meet her sisters’ eyes. “Of course.”

  Emma didn’t like this situation in the least. Why was Abby so adamant about leaving them? She’d been content for so many years traveling between her sisters’ homes, back and forth from London to the country.

  Grace looked near ready to cry.

  Before that happened, Emma said, “It’s fine, Grace. I’ll stand in for both of us. You’ll have so much excitement around you that you’ll not notice Abby’s absence.”

  Then she shot her youngest sister a look full of upset. How dare Abby take this moment of happiness away from Grace. Couldn’t Abby be happy for someone else at least once in her life? Never had she acted more the spoiled child than she did now.

  “I believe dinner has concluded,” Richard said as he stood from the table.

  He came around to Emma’s side and leaned close to her ear, whispering, “I will give you a moment with your sisters. I’ll see you in your room later.”

  Of course he’d not kiss her with everyone in the room. Their relationship wasn’t one of love, but one out of the necessity to create an heir.

  “Ladies,” Richard announced, “I bid you a good night.”

  He must have indicated to Mr. Lioni that the sisters needed some time alone, because the other man pushed out his chair and stood from the table, bidding first Grace a good evening, then her and Abby.

  As soon as the door closed behind the men, Emma turned to Abby and asked, “How is it you decided on this before mentioning anything to either of us?”

  “I wasn’t aware I needed your permission.” Abby tossed her napkin on the table.

  “You don’t.” Grace stood and came around to their side of the table. She pulled out the chair next to Abby and sat down. “But didn’t you take a moment to think that this was a monumental decision? Or that you might want the support and opinions of your sisters?”

  “The reason I didn’t tell you before I sent the letter was because I didn’t want you to persuade me to stay.” Abby looked down and stared at her entwined fingers. Unwilling to meet either of their eyes, it seemed.

  Placing her elbow on the table, Grace put her cheek in her palm and stared at their youngest sister with something akin to hurt. Emma couldn’t blame Grace. She also felt hurt by her sister’s sudden desire to leave them behind.

  “I didn’t intend,” Abby said in a rush, “to miss your upcoming nuptials. After such a short acquaintance, the last think I expected was for you to marry so … hastily.”

  “I didn’t plan for everything to happen so fast, either.” Grace took one of Abby’s hands in her own. “Is there some other reason you want to escape us so suddenly?”

  “You’d catch me out rather quickly if I dared to lie. With your husband home, Emma, you’ll have less time for me…” Abby sat back in her chair and looked from Grace to Emma. “Less time for both of us. I think our summer of leisure was over the moment Richard came home. Grace, I’m sorry about my rotten timing. I just think it’s time I struck out on my own. I feel so trapped here. Like I’m missing something that I’ll regret later. I need to do this.”

  “I empathize with that feeling,” Emma said in complete understanding. It still wasn’t right for her sister to leave them like this. “Do you need to leave by week’s end?”

  Abby nodded yes. “That doesn’t mean I can’t visit you later on. It’s not as though we’ll never see each other again. I need to do this—for myself. To see what the world has to offer without the support of my sisters along the way. Some things we have to do for ourselves.”

  Grace wiped tears from her eyes. “I’ll miss you dreadfully. I think I miss you already.” Grace wrapped her arms around their baby sister and gave her a fierce hug.

  “Oh, do stop crying,” Abby complained. “You’ll make me follow suit.”

  “It serves you right, Abby, for springing this on us so suddenly.” Emma wrapped her arms around both her sisters and gave them the tightest squeeze she could muster. “Come along, we’ll spend the evening together, and help you make a list of all the things you’ll need for your trip.” Emma wiped at her damp eyes and led their entourage upstairs.

  “I insist you take my best footman with you, Abby,” Grace said, “You’ll need someone with you should you get robbed.”

  “You make it sound so dangerous,” Abby teased with a laugh.

  “It’s liable to be. You’ll be near the Scottish border. Who’s to say what types of ruffians are out that way,” Emma said.

  Abby smiled. “I’m not so worried.”

  * * *

  Emma sat on the edge of her bed in complete dishabille. Seemed senseless at this point to play at false modesty when her husband had seen her in every way without her clothes on. The clock hadn’t even chimed in at half nine when the door opened. She had suspected he would come early.

  “To what do I owe to your lack of timidity?”

  Richard wore trousers. He had no shirt on. She had to look at the door frame beside his bared arm so she wasn’t caught studying his physique. She really should still be mad at him. Too many things had changed in her life today. And in her sisters’ lives. Would things ever change for the better between her and Richard?

  “Our foray in the parlor … the tour of my painting room … our swim in the pond. Other things we did at the pond. Need I go on?” Motioning with her hand, she indicated his half-dressed form. “Were you busy this evening?” She hadn’t seen him after supper.

  “Dante and I wanted to see if Waverly was still in residence at his estate. We made some inquiries.”

  “I would think after yesterday that he’d stay away permanently. Are you worried he’ll come back?”

  “There’s that too-trusting nature of yours again.” Richard shook his head in disapproval. “Waverly’s bound to make another appearance. I’m sorry you and your sisters ever had to be in his company.”

  “The only thing I’m surprised about was his ability to trick us into thinking him a friend.”

  Emma had never made such a bad judgment of someone before.

  “He’s clever when he needs to be. It would have been no hardship to fool everyone around him. For short bursts of time, at any rate.”

  Richard walked toward her, like a lion tracking a gazelle separated from the herd. For some reason she knew it was imperative to hold her ground, sure and steady, though inside she wanted to dash across the room and out of his reach. She knew what he was about, what he planned to do. Seduce her into not thinking clearly.

  She desperately wanted to know what Richard’s intentions were for their future. If a baby did not grow in her belly from their unions, would he leave? If she wasn’t pregnant, would they still petition for a divorce? Did she have it in her to make such a permanent break from Richard? S
he wasn’t sure she was strong enough to do that. Strong enough to hold herself together when he left again.

  What a foolish woman she was. She was letting her heart rule her better judgment. This could only end badly for her. She didn’t trust the feelings running rampant in her mind. They were all conflicting and confusing.

  So focused was she on her own thoughts, she didn’t realize how close Richard was until he dropped to his knees between her thighs. There was nothing lascivious, nothing mischievous about his intentions if his calm presence was anything to go by.

  Wrapping his arms around her waist, he did nothing more than put his head in her lap and sigh. She didn’t know how to handle her husband. He was usually more playful and teasing, and when he wasn’t those things, he was demanding and far too domineering. Never did he act as though he needed her for any sort of compassionate embrace. Setting her hands on his shoulders, she rubbed them soothingly, venturing higher to run her fingers through his dark hair and massage his scalp.

  “That feels good, Emma.” His voice was muffled since he spoke into her lap.

  “Is there something I can do for you?”

  “This. I like this. No one has ever let me hold them for a while. Not that I’ve ever wanted to hold just anyone.”

  He pulled her in tighter to his body, putting her so close to the edge of the mattress that she’d have fallen to the floor had Richard not been holding her in place. She liked to be needed by her husband. Liked that she could simply hold him if he needed that kind of comfort from her. He’d never needed her in any capacity before this. Not as a true wife, a lover, or a friend. He’d never seemed to need her—really need her—before now. Before tonight.

  Then he pulled her from the bed to sit astride his thighs. Her hands still threaded lightly through his hair, allowing her to keep her husband close.

  What a horrible place she had put herself in. She was irrevocably in love with her husband. It would tear her apart from the inside out when they parted ways.

 

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