by Emma Wildes
“See,” he said with wicked promise, “that you are.”
* * * *
They dined alone in the splendor of the huge dining room amid flickering candles and attentive servants.
How the devil someone as inexperienced as Patricia pulled it off, he wasn’t certain, but Jared knew he had never eaten a more sensual meal in his life. First of all, she wore a white gown to dinner, the style actually simple but very sophisticated, marrying the notion of innocence with overt seduction. Her bared shoulders and full breasts were accentuated by the clever low-cut décolletage, and her long slender neck framed by golden curls that gathered at her nape and spilled down her back. The girlish hairstyle and implied purity in the color of her dress should have made her look very young, but coupled with the lushness of her body and the beauty of her perfect features, the overall effect was unsettlingly just the opposite. Every time his wife lifted her fork or reached for her glass of wine, Jared found his gaze drawn to the fascinating plunge of her cleavage as those firm globes he couldn’t wait to touch quivered slightly. What’s more, the faint knowing smile on her soft mouth told him she most certainly noticed.
So undoubtedly did the footmen who waited on them, Jared thought with resignation, though the two young men kept their gazes pointedly anywhere else. The truth was, his young wife was too alluring for his peace of mind. His erection swelled just from watching her delicately eat her food. Even the way she chewed and swallowed somehow reminded him of the paradise that awaited upstairs.
“The chef insisted on your favorite chocolate pudding for dessert,” she told him as the plates for the fourth course were cleared away. Her long lashes half-veiled her lovely eyes as she lightly touched her napkin to her lips. “With that marvelous sauce.”
“I am not at all sure, Madame, I can sit through another course.”
Her gaze widened slightly at the absolute conviction in his tone. Keeping her voice very low, she replied, “I, too, am very anxious.”
That did it. Jared stood abruptly, setting aside his napkin. Nodding at one of the footmen, he said, “Please bring dessert upstairs.”
When he came around the table to pull out her chair and offer his arm, he saw the shimmer of excitement in Patricia’s gaze as she put her hand on his sleeve, though she blushed as they left the dining room.
“Does one eat dessert in the bedroom?” she asked with a lilt of amusement in her voice.
“I most definitely plan on eating in the bedroom,” he responded smoothly, escorting her up the curve of the wide staircase. Resisting the urge to slip his hand into the almost nonexistent neckline of her dress and capture one of the tantalizing mounds that had riveted his attention for their entire meal, Jared found the steps to his bedroom door felt endless.
Having informed his valet earlier he would not need his services after dinner, he was pleased to see the fire made up nicely and the linens on the big bed turned down. His favorite cognac also sat on a tray; the rich gleam catching the leaping light, contraband from France that he had paid a small fortune for due to the Peninsular War in progress in Spain.
“Would you like a small glass?” he asked his wife, itching to undress her but knowing their dessert would arrive at any moment. “Just a taste to show you what you are missing when us gentlemen retire to our tobacco and brandy.”
“A little would be nice.” Patricia sank down gracefully in one of the chairs by the fire, lifting one dark blond brow and smiling impishly. “But, you know my adventurous spirit, Jared. I tried brandy long ago, since my father did not keep that cabinet locked in his study.”
“I wish I could say I was surprised,” he muttered, pouring her a conservative portion and presenting her with the snifter.
Her playful smile deepened. “What would you prefer, your Grace, a wife who did not have the intellect to be curious about the unknown? A milk and water miss that grew faint at the very notion of trying something new?”
“Certainly not tonight,” Jared told her, not bothering any longer to hide his inspection of her splendid breasts. “That gown shall be only worn in my presence, please. You are fairly popping out of it, which I find delightful, but others would as well, and that would not delight me in the least.”
Patricia glanced down at the neckline of her gown. “The dressmaker assured me it was perfectly acceptable for a married lady.”
“The dressmaker needs spectacles.”
A small musical laugh pealed out. “You sound remarkably like a jealous husband.”
“To my surprise, I am a jealous husband. Keep it in mind, please.” Jared added with lethal sincerity, “You are mine.”
A small knock on the door interrupted whatever reply his wife might make, arresting the surprised look on her lovely face at his vehemence. Going to answer it, Jared allowed the young man carrying a tray inside. “Set it on the table by the bed, please.”
“Yes, your Grace.” The boy, who could not be more than twenty, had a decided flush to his cheeks as he followed the order. He deposited the tray on the night table, though he kept his expression deadpan, not even looking over to where Patricia lounged by the fire, her slender body in seductive display by firelight in the fitted, almost scandalous gown.
“Please thank the chef for me ahead of time,” Jared told him as the footman practically scurried to leave the room. “I know the duchess and I will enjoy it.”
“Yes, sir.” The boy openly blushed at those words and exited, shutting the door behind him.
It did look delicious, the rich chocolate cake made to be drizzled with a pale sauce made from butter, cream and whiskey. Crossing the room, Jared picked up a silver fork and speared a small piece.
“Here, darling, you go first. Tell me how it tastes.”
Patricia reached for the fork, but he shook his head. “Let me feed you. Open your mouth.” Kneeling at her feet, he slipped the fork into her mouth, watching her lips close over the morsel. Placing the fork back on the plate, he tried to ignore the throbbing in his cock as, still kneeling, he lifted her skirts and ran his hands up the silky length of her stockings to find her upper thighs.
“How is it?” he asked, his fingers brushing the heated warmth between her legs.
“Delicious,” she said breathlessly, looking down at him with his hands under her gown. “Oh...Jared.”
“What do you say to having another bite while I take off your clothes?” He rubbed her cleft slightly, the slick lips of her labia soft and perfect. Obviously she had kept the razor and lotion and obeyed his request to keep it bare. His cock stiffened almost painfully.
“That sounds divine.” Her whispered response was hushed.
Feeding her another forkful of cake, he removed her slippers and stockings as she swallowed it, enjoying the sight of his luscious wife with her skirts pushed up, the graceful length of legs exposed. Then he raised her to her feet and took off her gown and chemise, pulling the ribbon from her hair. Nude in the firelight, she was beyond gloriously desirable, her breasts uplifted and high, her pale hair a silken tumble, the beautiful bare cleft between her legs an offer of paradise. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her passionately, tasting the sweetness of chocolate as he explored her mouth, using his tongue to touch everywhere.
“Umm …you are correct, my lovely lady, it is delicious. I cannot wait to try the sauce.”
Lifting her in his arms, Jared took her to the bed. Patricia watched him undress, her eyes languorously half-shut as she lay compliant and waiting, her tight, peaked nipples evident of her anticipation. When he was fully disrobed, his erection pulsing hard against his stomach, Jared picked up the small pitcher of sauce meant for the cake.
“I want to try it here first,” he informed her, “since these have been shamelessly teasing me all evening.” He slid his hand over the resilient curve of one firm breast, testing the weight and shape with his palm.
Not anxious to sleep on sticky sheets, Jared poured slowly, letting the thick sauce slide over the taut tip of one pink crest, pooling a small amoun
t on the intriguing valley between her breasts. Leaning over her, he began to lick her soft skin clean, inhaling her fragrance along with tasting the sweet rich sauce. At each swirl of his tongue, Patricia made a soft sound, her fingers threading into his hair as he finally sucked the coated nipple deep into his mouth. She moaned as he swirled over the tightened bud, clutching him to her.
He did the same to the other breast, tasting and suckling. Then trailed a thin stream down her abdomen, following the sugary path with long strokes of his tongue, finally coming closer to the spot his appetite craved more than any dessert. Whisking a pristine cloth napkin off the tray and lifting her bottom to adjust it beneath her body, Jared whispered, “No chef, no matter how talented can duplicate this special treat.”
Her cleft was beautiful, the soft lips of her labia completely female, the small, tight entrance to her vagina round and perfect. Staring ardently at his final goal, Jared spread Patricia’s legs wide with insistent hands. “Keep them this way,” he ordered, making his tone dictatorial, since he knew his wife liked to be dominated in bed, if not in their marriage. “I promise you’ll enjoy it. In fact, you’re going to come for me in just moments, my love. More than once, if I have my way.”
“Oh God,” she breathed as he let the rest of the contents of the pitcher flow over her sex. The warm fluid coated the delicious crevasse, filling her slit and dripping down the curve of her bottom. Jared positioned himself between her open thighs, the heady scent of whiskey mingling with female arousal as he began to feast on his delectable concoction of woman and silky sauce. Her drenched satiny tissue was smooth and hot as he licked away the sticky substance. Her cleft throbbed against his mouth as if her blood centered there, just as his engorged shaft pulsated with need. Making certain to probe each fold, Jared watched her chest heave as she began to moan freely, her enjoyment climbing. The small nub that controlled her pleasure swelled further with each lave of his tongue.
Arching wildly, Patricia opened her legs even further as she reached for that elusive orgasmic peak, finally finding it when he sucked gently on her most sensitive spot, her fluids of arousal mingling with the residue of his chef’s favorite specialty. His wife screamed openly, a small muffled cry that echoed in the bedchamber when she climaxed, tiny whimpers following as she drifted in that sea of contented bliss.
Wiping his damp chin on the napkin, Jared rose and tossed it aside before climbing on top of her. “That,” he commented as he positioned himself between her limp and open legs, “was scrumptious, darling, but I am afraid I’m still hungry.”
* * * *
Patricia felt Jared slide smoothly inside her. The heat and pressure of that invasion made her come back, at least partially, to earth. Not having the strength to even lift her arms around his neck, she closed her eyes and drifted, letting him use her body with willing lethargy, still floating in the aftermath of incredible melting sensation. Within seconds of his penetration, she found she almost unconsciously gripped his cock with her inner muscles as he moved in and out. Beyond her will she began to participate, though the realization of enjoyment was a wonder, considering what she had just experienced.
“That’s it,” he murmured, his hair brushing his neck as he thrust with deliberate invasion into the still tingling depths of her vaginal passage. “Come back, darling. This is nice, too, isn’t it?”
It was beyond nice, which he knew well from the arrogant smile on his face. Patricia’s hands drifted up to rest on his wide shoulders, her already aroused body moving in wayward rhythm to his carnal strokes. “I’m not sure…” She shivered, an excess of sexual desire thrumming through her veins. “I can’t …I’m going to…Oh, God in heaven, Jared have mercy.”
“Like this?” he teased in a dark whisper, moving in a fraction farther, nudging her womb with his hard cock, making her gasp.
Patricia couldn’t help it, a low sound escaped her throat and her thighs tightened around his hips. Her second climax came on like a tide of relentless joy, her body helplessly swimming into that onslaught as she dug in her nails and held on. Jared uttered a low oath as he also tightened and pushed in urgently. A rush of semen filled her with the liquid evidence of his release and his shoulders shuddered under her clinging hands.
Afterwards, he kissed her softly again and again—soft, sweet kisses that tasted vaguely of the wickedly used whiskey sauce, his arms tenderly holding her close to his hard, muscular body. Patricia felt her throat tighten, longing to tell him just how much she loved him, wanting to hear him say the same the same words to her. But she lay quietly and simply kissed him back until she floated toward a deep, physically contented sleep.
Chapter 5
In consternation, Jared looked at the card in his hand. Then he nodded slightly. “Please show Sir Henry in, Brightson.”
“Very well, your Grace.”
“Tellbourne.” Henry Black nodded briskly as he came into the study. The faint ironic smile on his mouth told Jared he realized his visit was an uncomfortable surprise. Gray-haired and dignified, he had to be thirty years older than his wife, the lush but undeniably shallow Alicia. Already unhappy Patricia had obviously heard rumors about his brief liaison with Lady Black, Jared was fairly sure a visit from the wronged husband wasn’t going to help matters.
“Sir Henry. Please sit down.” Courteously, Jared gestured to a leather chair, and sank back down behind his desk.
“Thank you.” Seating himself, the older man said without preamble, “You may relax, your Grace. I am not here to discuss your indiscretion with my wife, other than in the sense it is the catalyst for what has transpired since. You were not the first; Alicia has an eye for handsome young men. I am not ignorant of her nature. However, I was blinded by her beauty when I married her.” His grimace was brief. “There is no fool, as they say, like an old fool. I have often wondered if that particular phrase wasn’t coined after the first—but certainly not the last—elderly gentleman succumbed to the conviction that some lovely young woman actually desired to share his bed, not just his name and fortune.”
That remarkable declaration left Jared all but speechless. After a moment, he said neutrally, “When a man has fortune and title, it is difficult no matter their age to determine the sincerity of a woman’s affections.”
Henry lifted a brow and his mouth quirked in a bleak smile. “Perhaps. At any rate, I know full well what Alicia is—every scheming, cheating, venal bit of her. All I can say for the fact that you were also tricked for a short while by her wiles is that I was surprised. I thought you too intelligent, Tellbourne, to fall into her clutches.”
“Apparently not,” Jared admitted uncomfortably. “Often enough in our society, married women have agreements with their husbands to allow mutually discreet affairs. Alicia assured me you did not care as long as she didn’t flaunt it, and I believed her.”
“And then,” Sir Henry said cynically, “she proceeded to flaunt it, didn’t she? Bedding a peer appealed to her, and you especially, considering your reputation for seduction. Being the hunter is her specialty.”
It was so close to being an accurate description of the lovely and devious Lady Black that Jared agreed grimly. “Upon reflection, I too, came to the conclusion that her games were a little too calculated for my tastes. I broke it off quickly, Sir Henry, and my apologies, of course, for any embarrassment or distress. All I can say for myself is that now, as a married man, I see casual affairs in an entirely different light and would want to kill any man who touched my wife.”
Leaning back, his hands resting on the arms of the chair, Sir Henry looked bland. “You are protective of your lovely young bride. That’s a healthy sign. I loved my first wife unconditionally, and she was a delight, giving me two sons. At her death I was devastated.”
The very idea of anything happening to Patricia was unthinkable. Jared shifted a little, putting that unpalatable thought out of his mind. “I did not anticipate the depth of my devotion, but now that I am wed, I cannot imagine life without Patricia,
” he acquiesced .
“Your wife’s well-being is why I am here.”
That flat statement made him straighten with a small chill. Jared narrowed his gaze on the other man’s face. “I am not sure I understand.”
“Alicia is vindictive, your Grace, and your abrupt severing of your affair with my wife sorely abraded her pride.” Sir Henry looked frighteningly sincere as he leaned forward, his pale eyes direct. “Your duchess is in danger. At the very least, of discredit in the eyes of the ton. Who do you think fuels the rumors over every harmless action that might be interpreted—by the right wagging tongues, as indiscreet? Though it has been nearly a year since your short interlude with her, please do not discount the ire of a scorned woman. Alicia will seek revenge. I am already seeing it, and your pretty wife is the chink in your armor. Lately, Alicia has been more morbid than usual, even for her, dwelling constantly on the subject of your duchess.”
Reflecting on how often he had chastised Patricia for her behavior, it was a little unsettling to think he might actually be the cause of all the backhanded whispers. Without argument, Jared asked bluntly, “How seriously should I be concerned? Would she actually harm her?”
“I wish I could assure you she would not. If I were not concerned, I would not be here, Tellbourne.”
Considering Patricia had gone out earlier and was late returning, Jared felt a stab of panic. “I’ll hire a guard,” he said abruptly, “and though I appreciate you coming here beyond imagining, Sir Henry, please know that if anything happens to my wife, I will kill Alicia with my own hands.”
The older man rose, his expression gravely understanding. “If anything happens to your beautiful and gracious young duchess, Alicia would deserve it. Good day, your Grace.”
* * * *
The shop was unnaturally dark, and Patricia frowned, pausing just inside. A vague smell of musty wood and damp floors filled the air, and there certainly was no evidence of the fashionable hats that Ava had insisted she needed to come and peruse. In fact, Ava didn’t even appear to be there, despite her note with the specific time and address, and if the proprietor of this store was a milliner, he was sorely short on wares.