Fortuna squealed, then smiled dreamily up at him as he divested her of her shoes and stockings. He kissed the curves of her calves, the hollows at the back of her knees, her ankles, and inner thighs. Just the smell of her was enough to see him primed, without the additional tactile and emotional pulls.
He loosened her stays eyelet by eyelet, until he could peel the edges apart and let her breasts fall free of the confinement. He loved her breasts, with their small perfect ripeness and huge enticing nipples. He latched on to one, sucking it hard.
“Giles, look.” She pushed his shoulders, until he was forced to turn.
Above the mantle a new oil picture hung. In it, he and Fortuna lay together positioned as if they were spoons, their bodies perfectly coupled. Bliss showed in both their features.
“Darleston.” Giles remarked. He always did have an eye for detail.
“Darleston! You mean he’s the artist. But Giles, we’ve never done that. How could he know we’d fit together so well?”
Giles shook his head. Maybe the image was from memory, or at least part of it. He didn’t feel like spoiling her amazement by pointing out their friend had likely hired models to pose. “Remarkable, isn’t it?” he said instead, although not as remarkable as her, the real woman squirming in his arms. He’d save his study of Darleston’s gift for a moment when he didn’t have her wanton and willing in his bed.
Giles plucked at the ribbon fastening of her petticoat. She wriggled up out of it, and kicked it onto the floor while he shrugged off his coat and waistcoat.
Fortuna grasped the end of his cravat, which unfurled from his throat as she tugged him further up the bed. Her gaze fastened on the point where the edges of his shirt parted, her pupils dilating, her expression becoming eager. “Take it off,” she insisted.
He could see her delight in his body clear in her expression. That warmth, the attraction, he wanted to roll them both up in it, bind them so tight they were almost one. But he wanted this moment, and her expression of wonder to last too.
Coyly, he clasped a hand to the linen covering his chest. “You wish me to remove my shirt?”
“And your breeches and any other garment you happen to have beneath. I’m naked. Why shouldn’t you be too? Besides, I want to feel your skin pressed to mine.”
“And what will you have us do when we’re pressed so snugly together?”
“Don’t tease so.” She lay back, and he found himself half-dragged, half-crawling across her. Her hot dainty hands grasped the globes of his buttocks and pulled him down so their hips and genitals met with a welcoming slap.
“Come into me.”
He grinned. “Are you asking me to fuck you?”
“I think I might be demanding it.” She pushed against him and rolled them over so that she sat astride him, gazing dreamily down at him as her fingers wove a path through the dark vee of hair upon his chest. She licked a trail down his body, teased his nipples and the soft skin around his navel. Her exploration stopped shy of his cock. Instead, she closed a hand around his shaft and angled him towards her puss. She held him there, teasing him with the slick heat of her cunny lips, and pressing his sensitive glans to her clitoris.
“Now who’s teasing, Mrs. Dovecote?” Just being able to call her that gave him a curiously contented sense of pleasure.
“I am.” Fortuna pressed him just inside her entrance. Her eyes closed, she purred with pleasure, and then engulfed him entirely.
As their bodies sighed, in the final throes of pleasure, something hard scratched the back of Giles’s hand. Irritably, he tried to brush it away, but it fell cold into his palm from between the mound of pillows.
Fortuna’s eyes widened in alarm; “How?” she gasped.
The candlelight sparkled amidst the web of stones of the Star of Fortune as Giles lifted the stem of rubies. The light hit the centrepiece and fractured into a halo of rainbow-colours.
“Sir Hector,” she breathed, the sound slightly panicked, “he wouldn’t have come here, would he?”
“Certainly not.” A suspicion waked in Giles’s mind. A small card was tied to the necklace clasp. “Read it,” he offered it to Fortuna, his concentration wavering. He couldn’t concentrate on anything beside the grip of her body around his twitching cock.
“A present from Aunt Hattie.” She frowned quizzically at the card. “Giles, how? She’s been dead eleven years.”
He smiled serenely up at her, allowing her to draw her own conclusions as he was rapidly drawing his. The reverse of the card bore the distinctive watermark of the Darleston coat of arms.
Fortuna had been delighted to find they were marrying at Acton when she’d stepped from the carriage last night. The village had been home to her godfather and his wife, and was where the latter was buried. It didn’t take Giles much of a leap to imagine what his friends had been up to in the graveyard last night. The twins had clearly encountered Aunt Hattie and taken another sly visit to Knapsley and Cox.
“It’s from Neddy and Robert,” he said, lifting his hips so he surged up into her, knocking her forward into his arms. “I imagine they had it copied. Neddy has a good memory.”
He didn’t believe that, but he didn’t want to spoil the moment by filling her mind with doubts, and he wanted to be sure of the truth before he shared. His gaze tracked towards the fireplace. Later, on a night that wasn’t his wedding night, he’d toss the damn necklace in there and watch to see if the blood red stones turned lustrous green in the embrace of the flames. Meanwhile, he fastened the web of stones around her slender throat, so that the Star of Fortune lay nestled between her breasts like a heart.
“It has two stars within it,” she purred in delight.
Giles bucked his hips again, wanting to come. “I know,” he whispered. “I know.”
About the Author
Madelynne Ellis has a healthy obsession with a certain Japanese rock-star, drinks decaf out of preference, and likes scaring the wobblies out of people at gothic horror weekends. Now a multi-published author in both traditional print and ebook formats, Madelynne began writing in 1996 after escaping the Hotel California, the nickname for the parasitology laboratory where she worked. Her aim is to deliver scorching, character-driven stories that both enchant and torment.
Madelynne enjoys hearing from her readers. You can contact her at [email protected]
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Ai Press Books by Madelynne Ellis
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Coming Soon by Madelynne Ellis
Indiscretions (Georgian Rakehells)
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Three Times the Scandal (Georgian Rakehells) Page 31