by Raine Miller
Yes, she was right to look sad in the portrait, Georgina thought. Clarissa Greymont was a tragic woman with a heartrending past. Yet, selfishly, Georgina could not regret the union, for without it, Jeremy would not be. He wouldn’t be in her life. He would never have found her, saved her, given her a life.
Turning abruptly away from those melancholy, blue eyes, she left the gallery for other pursuits, thinking about how lucky she was. She had married well. Jeremy was nothing like his father. He would never treat his wife and children in such a way…
* * * *
Jeremy returned from the day’s business. The dark, rolling sky, ominous above him, foretold of impending rain. He quickened his pace, thinking of Gina and what she might be doing. The tremor between his legs inspired thoughts of what he’d like to be doing with her. Yes, with the day so ugly, outdoor pursuits were not an option. How timely, he thought. What better way to pass the afternoon than in a warm, cozy bed—naked of course—and making love to his wife.
Pulling up to the house, he handed off his horse to a groom and took the steps two at a time. He figured the faster he found her, the sooner he could be inside her. With all the sex they’d been having, he should have been able to focus on something else. But no, not really the case. The more he had her, the more he needed her, and not always just for the sex. He just needed her. Needed to be with her, spend time in her company, be near her.
Handing over his overcoat and gloves, he inquired of the butler, “Clarke, where can I find Mrs. Greymont?” He smiled, thinking how much he loved saying “Mrs. Greymont.”
“Madam is in with Mrs. Richards, sir.” Nothing much ruffled Clarke. He was as somber as they come. His voice was all muted dignity and calm.
“Thank you, Clarke.”
A few minutes later, Jeremy popped his head into the housekeeping office after a short preemptory knock. There she was, head bent, furrowed brow, all concentration as she reviewed accounts with Richards. It made him all the prouder of her, seeing how she stepped up to her new role as mistress by learning the workings of Hallborough. So diligent in her efforts.
God, how she aroused him! Just seeing Gina now made his cock ache to be inside her. He wanted to stride over and sweep her into a deep kiss, and then carry her upstairs to bed, where he’d see her clothes removed slowly, and one garment at a time, until she was gloriously naked. Gina liked him directing her, taking comfort in his mastery at pleasuring her. And pleasure her he would. He’d lay her out on the bed and kiss every inch of skin. He wanted his tongue on her breasts, inside her quim, anywhere, everywhere. He needed to taste her honey again—
“Jeremy?” She smiled up at him, inquiring with a gentle look.
Caught again…thinking with your prick.
“Oh, hello. Sorry for interrupting you at your work. Just wanted to let you know I’ve returned. Made it inside before the rain.”
Christ, he was rambling like an idiot, and his cock was throbbing like a bass drum in a soldier band. He wondered if they could hear it. Thank heavens his jacket covered him. He was stiff enough to work as a coat hook for the damn thing in case he decided to take it off in any case.
“Um, come find me when you are done? Yes? I’ll be in my study.”
Flustered, he shut the door and got the hell out of there as fast as his feet could take him, the ache in his kecks subsiding only a little. He needed a drink.
The scotch soothed him some. Seated at his desk, he worked through some correspondence that had accumulated, hoping the time could pass quickly before Gina came to him. He was still halfway hard when the knock at the door came. His cock punched against the fabric. She was just behind that door. Relief at last! Maybe they could play in here, with the door locked of course. Perhaps, just possibly, she might want to try a new game…called fellatio. Jeremy’s mind went rampant with the possibilities of fantasies he only dreamed about with her, but so far had not attempted. He was taking a slow path with Gina, and felt that when the time was right, they would know.
He arranged himself in the chair, leaned back, spread his thighs, cupped himself, and slapped a very naughty, very randy look on his face. “Come!” he sang at the knock.
The sight of the burly Mr. Mills, his steward, coming through the door, killed the throb in his prick, that and the pain of slamming his knee into the desk as he jerked upright. A ripe curse greeted the steward who entered hesitantly after that salute, peering around the door to see if there was someone else already in the room with his master.
“No, just me, Mills. What can I do for you?” Recovering his poise, Jeremy gave in with resignation and just in time to be snagged into a discussion about some troubles with the tenants.
When Gina did step in some three quarters of an hour later, he was still tangled in pressing estate business. Both men stood to acknowledge her. She greeted Mr. Mills and tilted her head.
He felt like moaning, she looked so delectable. He smiled longingly and flashed a wink instead. “I’ll find you as soon as I’m done here. Where will you be?”
“The library…I shall be in the library.” She showed what he interpreted as a smoky glance in his direction and let herself out.
The snail’s pace of the business with Mills was near to making him scream. He needed to get the hell out of here and into bed with his wife! Still, it was another half hour before he could get rid of the tenacious man. At the moment, Mills might be as unwelcome as a stiff prick in church, but he was a damn fine steward and Jeremy was not stupid enough to offend him.
Jeremy flew to the library. She wasn’t there. He called her name. No answer. Frustration took hold. He spun out and into the hall. He hadn’t taken more than a few steps, and there she was. She had just turned the corner and faced in his direction.
As soon as Gina saw him, she stopped. They both did. Standing there in the hallway, gazes locked upon each other, something very sensual passed between them, so strong he imagined he could smell the scent of arousal in the air. The moment ruled them, taking over, making this encounter into something all about naked skin and bodies coming together.
Jeremy knew what she was going to do the split second before she did it. He wanted her to—so badly.
She did it.
Yes, oh yes…this is going to be fantastic!
* * * *
Georgina felt wicked desire fill her soul and knew what she had to do. Didn’t know why, but just knew she had to. It would drive him wild. So she turned and ran from him. She ran as fast as her legs could go.
Down the hall, up a staircase, another hallway, more stairs, she kept going. Jeremy chased after her, his boots pounding under the size of him. Each thud of his boot drove up her excitement to the point where she was without conscious intent as she fled. This was pure animal reaction, and thoughts of what her lovely beast would do once he got his hands on her made her shudder.
Georgina didn’t even know what these rooms were. She was in a narrow hallway of the east wing’s third floor. This was a part of the house she’d never been before. Flinging open three doors in a row, she picked the one on the right and dashed inside. It was some kind of storage room, with trunks and crates and odd furniture stacked about.
Ducking behind a wardrobe, she wedged herself between it and the wall. Her heart beat so heavy beneath her breast, she figured the sound couldn’t possibly be silent. It was probably rather like a beacon, calling him straight to her location.
She waited. No more loud boots thumping on the floor. He was taking quiet steps now.
“Gina,” he called, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m going to catch you…soon. And you know what I’m going to do when I find you? I’m thinking about it right now, what I’m going to do to you.”
She heard a few more soft steps. “You are so clever to open those doors, trying to throw me off like that. But I know you’re in this room, Gina.”
How do you know I’m in this room?
“I can scent you. I love your scent—fragrant eglantine with a hint of
orange. So delicate, yet powerful enough to make me hard for you just from smelling it.” More soft steps sounded just to her right. “I’m hard right now, Gina, so damn hard my cock aches. It wants in you.”
Oh dear Lord.
He walked past the wardrobe and toward the left corner of the room. “Where are you hiding my dear, naughty, sweetheart?” he crooned. “It won’t be long now, Gina, before I catch you, and you know what’s going to happen then…”
If she crept out from her place, she thought she could just slip out the door by running behind him with his back turned. Georgina heard the rustling of boxes being slid about and took her window of opportunity. She bolted for the door.
Georgina didn’t make it far. Powerful hands latched on to her shoulders and dragged her against him. She screamed and a hand clamped over her mouth, cutting the sound off. His lips came to her ear. “No screaming, sweetheart. The servants…”
She nodded against his hand.
“Good girl,” he whispered, removing his hand from her mouth and dragging it down over her neck and throat to cup her breast. His mouth stayed at her neck, and his tongue flicked out to swirl just below her ear. His other hand moved to her hip and pulled her back as he ground his erection into the cleft of her bottom.
She panted against him, grateful he could hold her up. It was wonderful to be captured. She pressed herself into him, arching her back and her neck, giving in to the coiled anticipation.
“Do you like being chased?” He teased her breast.
“Yes.”
“Do you like being caught?” He swirled his tongue in her ear before biting the lobe.
“Yes!”
“Do feel how hard I am for you?” He ground into her again.
“Yesss!”
“Well then, I know just what you need!” He turned her, hefted her over his shoulder, clamped on to her legs, and started walking. Fast. “And you’re going to like it,” he promised.
Oh yes, she was going to like it and could hardly wait, she was so aroused by his questions, his touches, all of him. Jeremy carried her down to the end of the hall and turned left, descended some stairs, purposeful in his steps until he met his destination. He stopped, opened the door with one hand, and brought them into a bedroom.
“Put me down, now,” she told him, wriggling against his grip.
“I’m going to put you down,” he declared, “right where I want you, on this bed, so I can get all over you—and up in you.”
The moan that escaped her throat seemed to spur him. He’d never moved so fast, dropping her on the bed and securing the door latch. Turning to face her, he leaned against the door and pulled off his boots. The massive ridge in his trousers told her all she needed to know about his intentions. He pounced.
The weight of him covering her was heaven. He had his hand up her skirt and his tongue in her mouth before she could suck in a breath. Two long fingers sank into her core as his thumb stroked her, rubbing in a sweet, slick, wet circle.
She thrust against his hand, rotating her hips, lost to the building, raw tension. Higher and higher he drew her along until she was barely clinging to the edge, ready to plunge into the abyss of shearing pleasure. As she writhed against his hand, she was vaguely aware that he watched her. His head drew back, and he stared at her, into her.
“Look at me. I want to see you coming. Don’t close your eyes, Gina.”
She kept her eyes on him, but her hand shot out to rub down the iron length of his cock, something she had never done. He had touched her plenty, but she had never been bold enough to touch him there. He jerked when her hand made contact, and his eyes rolled back.
“Yes! Touch me! I want your hand on my cock!” he ground out.
Emboldened by his command, she grappled with the buttons on the flap of his kecks, springing him free. Her fingers closed around the stiff length by feel. She couldn’t see what she was doing, but he seemed to be very pleased by her efforts.
“Ah, like that. Stroke up and down. Feels so damn good!”
She kept her eyes on his, working her fist around his cock, learning the feel of the skin sliding over hard muscle underneath its satin sheath. The circling of his thumb and the penetration of his fingers had her about ready to fly. “Jeremy! I can’t wait—I want you insi—”
He angled himself, thrust powerfully, and gave her what she wanted. Long, sliding, intense pulls, back and forth, bumping the wall of her womb with each deep pulse.
“Like this?” he asked, his breathing going into the predictable wheeze she knew well.
“Just like that!”
She gave him everything she had, meeting each stroke, thrust for thrust. She dug into his back with her fingernails, wishing she was touching skin instead of his shirt. The explosion, when it came, was shattering. They came together. She cried out, caring little if she was heard or if she was too wanton. In this moment, with him, abandon consumed her and she could know nothing else.
* * * *
Jeremy caressed her neck with his lips. Gina shifted against his nuzzling, coming awake from their ragged romp like a languid, sleepy kitten. After that first blinding release, they’d gotten good and naked and gone again, collapsing into needed sleep together when it was done.
Burrowed in the blankets with her warm curves fitted to his body like a snug-fitting glove was illuminating. He could feel a glow infusing him with love and feelings of possessiveness he’d never believed possible. Having her reach out, touching and demanding of him during their encounter had been like a lightning strike. Igniting in him something he’d never known with a woman. She excited and soothed him at the same time. Made him feel reckless and cautious both at once. She stirred him up and smoothed out his rough edges. She completed him in so many ways—made him feel like a real man, a husband, a grown-up. She was all-powerful.
“That was the most memorable romp of hide-and-seek I’ve ever had.” Jeremy kissed her lips gently. “When can we do it again?”
Gina smiled at him. “I liked it, too.” She blushed beautifully, her shyness taking over.
“I love that you get shy, but there’s no need.” He tickled her a little at the ribs. “I like you wanton and shameless.”
“You do?” Her eyes widened at him.
“Oh yes! In fact, I love for you to be so. You have my wholehearted approval to behave as wanton and brazen as you like, whenever you wish.” He whispered, “I hope it’s all the time.”
“That won’t be difficult,” she said ruefully. “All you have to do is pass me a look like the one you did in the hallway, and I’ll bolt.”
“I’ll remember you said that.”
“What is this room, Jeremy?” She snuggled into his side, facing him and looking out at the walls.
“Can’t you tell?”
“Was this yours?”
He nodded.
She sat up and took in the furniture and the juvenile décor. “Yes. I can see that it was a boy’s room.” She smiled, wrinkling her nose at him. “You slept right here on this bed?”
“I did.” He pulled her possessively back down to the mattress, his hands sweeping over breasts and hips, his knee splitting her thighs so he could settle in between. “But never enjoyed myself as much as I did today—or had such a delightful companion to share it with.”
Hell, he was hard for her again, his cock straining for her, pulsing on the flat between their stomachs.
“I’ll never think of this bed in the same way, I’m afraid,” he told her, emphasizing with a notable thrust downward.
“I should hope not!” She giggled and melted under him. He loved that she was so willing to take him in, to be with him like this—
The rattle at the door handle froze them both. Then a sharp rapping. “What’s going on in there? Open up and show yourselves!” The gruff voice of Mr. Clarke rang through the walls.
Underneath him, Gina gasped and slapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes flaring.
Jeremy just grinned at her and called out,
“That won’t be happening, Clarke. All is well and need not concern you.”
Mr. Clarke choked a reply through the door. “Oh! Apologies, sir, I had no idea—”
“And, Clarke?” Jeremy interrupted.
“Yes, sir?” Clarke’s voice trembled.
“Tell Richards that Mrs. Greymont and I will have dinner served in our rooms this evening. And have them ready a bath. That is all.”
“It will be done, sir.” The butler’s footsteps could be clearly heard, moving out quickly, nearly running in his bid to flee the scene of certain mortification for him.
“That poor man. Jeremy, I hope he recovers from his fright and makes his way safely to Mrs. Richards. He sounded about to have an apoplexy.”
“Aw, old Clarke will be completely restored back to his stiff self the next time we see him. Besides, I’m just making sure we provide ample gossip for the servants. I consider it my duty as master. They’re probably bored as hell and will appreciate the diversion.”
“So wicked…” She clucked at him.
“Always.” He winked at her. “Now where was I?” He thrust again, this time finding his mark, entering her in one glorious, slick slide. “Oh, I remember. I wish for the wanton Gina to rematerialize. I know I’ve not had enough of her quite yet.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
When her loose gown from her shoulders did fall,
And she me caught in her arms long and small;
Therewithall sweetly did me kiss…
—Thomas Wyatt, “They Flee From Me” (1557)
The shared bath had been lovely and even more enjoyable because they washed each other, slippery soap and fragrant bath oils making the washing, or pleasuring, unlike any bath either had ever had opportunity to experience, but would surely want for repetition.