by Kit Tunstall
“No, of course not. After the wedding, she imparted her knowledge so I would be prepared for tonight.”
He shook his head. “There is no shame in enjoying sex. You are lucky you find pleasure in the act, for many women do not.”
“Oh.” She frowned at him. “How can they not?”
Alex shrugged. “I suppose they have incompetent partners, or they were taught to believe a lady does not enjoy bedroom games.”
“Oh,” she said again. Maybe they felt no love for their husbands. She left the thought unvoiced. Her gaze moved downward, settling on his cock. “I am no true lady, despite your words, Alex.” She spoke with deep conviction. How could she be, when she had so eagerly embraced such wicked pleasures of the flesh?
He frowned again. “I thought the matter settled to your satisfaction.”
“I am depraved.” She shook her head, dropping her voice to a whisper. “My body tingles when you say those words.”
He sounded amused. “Which words, precisely, love?”
She shook her head once more, unable to utter them.
Alex stroked his finger across her swollen pussy lips. “Come on, love. Nothing should be forbidden as long as it brings us both pleasure.”
She looked up at him, fighting her blush and drawing reassurance from his tender gaze. “P-p-pussy,” she managed to stutter out, before a fit of giggles threatened to overwhelm her. She grew giddy as she fought to suppress them.
He nodded, looking satisfied. “Do you like my cock in your pussy, Rebecca?”
She nodded.
“Ask me for my cock, and it will be yours.”
Her light-headedness increased. “Oh, but—” She frowned, and absently trailed her hand down his chest. She had moved her other hand to his hip, and she shyly brought it back to his cock. “May I…will you please—?”
He laughed. “Aye, love, I will.”
She smiled at him as she tentatively touched the head of his cock. “Thank you, m’lord.” It seemed ridiculous to be so polite, but she didn’t know what else to say.
He appeared to be biting back a laugh when he asked, “Now, shall we partake of each other?”
Rebecca nodded. Her eyes widened as he pushed her onto her stomach and raised her hips. He knelt behind her, slowly easing the full length of his cock into her pussy. Her body clenched around him, and she felt the familiar tingling. When she could catch her breath, she asked, “Can we do this?”
He frowned at her. “We are doing it, are we not?”
“Yes, but is it proper? I thought there was only one way between a man and woman.”
Alex laughed so hard his chest rumbled against her back. “There are many ways, and I look forward to teaching each one to you, love.”
“I have learned all I care to know for today,” she managed to say primly as he grasped her hips and leaned back on the bed, with her lying on top of him. He lifted her hips and withdrew from her. When his cock was almost completely out of her, he pushed into her again.
Alex cupped her breasts as he settled against the headboard. “Lie back with me.”
She pressed her back against his chest, not allowing him to slip from her body. She groaned as the new position pushed his cock against the nub that brought her such pleasure.
“How I enjoy fucking you, Rebecca.” Alex caressed her nipples in slow circles, squeezing gently.
The blush returned with a vengeance. As naïve as she was, Rebecca knew what “fuck” meant. She remembered seeing a stallion mount a filly once back home in England. She had been hidden from sight near the fence, and she heard one of the grooms say to the stable master, “‘e’s gettin’ a fine fuckin’.”
It hadn’t taken her long to realize what fucking meant, though she had not heard the word again until it passed Alex’s lips. She nodded, unable to find her tongue to speak as his cock pushed deep inside her, causing her to moan as she spasmed around him. He pushed down firmly on her clit as he buried himself deep inside her.
It popped into her mind without her thinking about it: She liked fucking her husband too. The thought made her want to giggle again, and she bit down hard on her lip, until her thoughts were swept away by the orgasm overtaking her.
* * * * *
She awoke in the middle of the night, half-buried under Alex’s body. He had rolled on top of her, and she was having difficulty breathing. Her arm had gone numb, pinned under his chest, and she extricated it carefully.
Rebecca rolled away from him and out of the bed. She padded to the window, noticing a delicious ache inside her pussy. Alex’s gism had dried on her thighs, but she was unconcerned about the reminder of their joining. She was still basking in the glow of their lovemaking, even hours later.
She pushed aside the drapes and stared out. The street was silent, and the night sky was velvety black, with only a quarter-moon suspended in the sky. Surely, everyone in the world was asleep, except her.
And Alex, she discovered, when he came to stand behind her. He wound his arms around her waist and pulled her against him. She laid her head against his chest.
“Could you not sleep, love?”
“Nay. I woke to the pleasant sensation of lying under my husband.” She shifted impatiently as his hand stroked across her stomach, moving toward her breasts. “I needed to stretch.”
His voice was throaty against her ear. “I can accommodate m’lady.”
Her eyes widened when he moved his arm from around her waist to her bottom. He squeezed the flesh a couple of times before he began to trail his fingers across her smooth cheeks.
She gasped when he ran his finger down the cleft of her cheeks and continued on, finding her pussy with ease. Her legs independently parted to allow him better access, and she bit her lip when he circled her clit with his thumb. Instantly, she was wet.
As he rubbed her clitoris, Alex grasped one of her breasts and repeated the motion on her nipple. The simultaneous pleasure caused her entire body to turn into a trembling mass. She had difficulty standing, and she didn’t resist when he moved his hand from her pussy to her lower back. He pushed her forward, until her forehead rested against the cold glass of the windowpane.
“Do you want me?” he asked, sounding hoarse.
“Oh, yes,” she moaned. “Please, Alex.”
“Shall I fuck you, Rebecca?”
An image of the stallion mounting the filly flashed through her mind, causing her already wet pussy to flood with proof of her arousal. Until this moment, she hadn’t found the memory at all sexual, but she realized she was in the same position as the horse, waiting for her stallion to mount her. She ached for Alex to fill her.
“I want your cock.” To her surprise, she felt little more than a twinge of embarrassment at uttering the word.
He caressed her bottom as his hand moved from her breast to her hips. He leaned her forward a bit more, and then nudged her thighs apart. She stood bent at the waist, with her legs bowed so he had room to slide between them.
Rebecca buried her hands in the drapes as Alex used a hand to hold open her pussy lips as he guided his cock inside her. She pushed back against him, ignoring the stretching, burning sensation between her thighs. It didn’t matter that she was sore. Nothing mattered but Alex’s possession.
He lifted her slightly, bearing the brunt of her weight as he thrust into her. He was making low, grunting sounds as he thrust inside her and went still.
She moaned at the torment of having his cock inside her without moving. Rebecca squirmed impatiently, wanting all of him. When he withdrew to thrust, her teeth sank into her lower lip, and she bit back a protest at the brief separation. Then he was inside her again, and they were one, not two.
It felt more right than she wanted to admit. She wondered if Alex felt the same way. Did he care for her even a little, or was she just an inconvenience he was using at his convenience, as he had said he would?
The thought chased away her arousal, and tears burned behind her eyes. She kept her hands buried in the cloth of the curta
ins, drawing the strength to stand and endure his lovemaking, knowing he felt no love.
She was surprised when she suddenly climaxed. She had been so consumed with thoughts of Alex’s emotions that she hadn’t paid attention to the signals her body had sent her. Her knees weakened, and she collapsed forward, allowing Alex to hold her up as he spent himself inside her.
She let him carry her back to the bed and tuck her in. Rebecca turned away when he settled in beside her. She felt his hand on her back, and she held her breath, waiting for him to say something, anything at all, to break the silent tension.
She wanted to scream as the seconds lengthened. Finally, she heard him sigh as he rolled away from her. She turned her face into the pillow and let the tears flow. She was a lady, and knew all about silent sobs. She doubted he was aware of her torment.
When she heard him snoring a few minutes later, she knew he had remained oblivious. If only she could be so oblivious to the way she felt, she could endure their loveless marriage.
Chapter 14
It was early morning when Georgina woke her from a sound sleep. Rebecca bit back tears when she realized the space beside her was cold, indicating Alex had left the bed many hours ago. A faint indent remained on the pillow he used. Only that and the ache between her thighs offered proof that his visit in the night had not been a fevered dream.
“Mrs. Gallow is here to see you, m'lady.”
Before Georgina had completely uttered the sentence, Elizabeth burst into the room. Her blonde hair was in disarray, and her eyes were red from weeping. Her green pelisse hung off one shoulder, and the yellow morning dress underneath wasn't buttoned properly. She held a crumpled piece of paper in hands bare of gloves.
With a curtsy, Georgina slipped from the room.
Rebecca scrunched under the covers, attempting to hide her state of undress. “What has happened, sister?”
She waved the letter in her hands. “Mama and Clarise are coming here to Boston.”
“Because I got married?”
“Of course not. Mama does not know of that yet.” She took a deep breath mingled with a sob. “She is virtually penniless. Aimes helped her smuggle a few valuable items from Stanhope Manor and pawn them. She was able to recover a few thousand pounds from the bank before the creditors got to the accounts, but that is all.”
“Slow down, Elizabeth. What are you talking about?” Her heart had stuttered at the mention of creditors.
“Father owed so much money that there are not sufficient funds to cover all of his debts. The creditors came knocking and seized the house and assets, allowing Mama only a few hours to pack. She and Clarise stayed at an inn for a few days while arranging passage to America.”
“They were driven from England?”
“Fled, Rebecca. Viscount Riche withdrew his offer for Clarise's hand after the terrible rumors surfaced and news of Father's debts leaked out. Mama and our sister are pariahs in London.” Elizabeth pleated the thick paper between her fingers.
“What rumors?” she asked in a hoarse voice, dreading the answer.
Elizabeth shook her head. “I cannot say them.” She hurried forward and thrust the abused missive at Rebecca.
She pulled an arm from the covers to lift the letter.
My Dearest Elizabeth,
By the time you receive this missive, your sister and I shall be on our way to Boston. I anticipate we shall arrive within the two months following receipt of this letter. Many dreadful things have happened to change our circumstances, beginning with that fool, Lord Fenwick. At one of the gaming hells, deep in his cups, he sputtered ridiculous nonsense about a deal with your father. He claimed Winston paid him the sum of 100 pounds to stage the duel and shoot him.
Some refused to believe, but many shunned us. Viscount Riche withdrew his offer for Clarise's hand. Poor dear is horribly distraught still. When I thought it could get no worse, the creditors stepped forward, picking at our fortune and your father's reputation like the vultures they are.
Rebecca dropped the letter on the bed, needing to read no more. Tears slipped down her cheeks. “How could Father do such a thing?”
Elizabeth's response was a wail and wringing of her hands. “I am so ashamed.”
She nodded. “As am I, but we are not responsible for Father's actions.”
“All in Boston will know of these events within days of Mama's arrival.” She turned white. “Many missives arrived today. Do you suppose all and sundry have been informed by now?”
Rebecca shrugged, accidentally displacing her sheet, which she hastily restored. ”I do not know. It matters not.”
“Rebecca!”
“We cannot run from the scandal, so we must face it bravely.” She bit back a groan, realizing how news of her hasty marriage would cause the rumors to spread even more quickly. “However, there is nothing wrong with regrouping.”
Elizabeth looked confused.
“Begin your confinement early. You had planned to cancel social events in two weeks. Do so now. Refuse visitors and invitations. Allow some of the talk to die before venturing forth again.”
Her sister blinked. Calm seemed to gradually replace the fear on her face. “That is wise, dear sister.” She wiped her cheeks. “You are rational, as always.”
She inclined her head.
“What shall you do? I have a perfect excuse for taking a rest, but you will be expected to be out and about.”
Rebecca's brow furrowed. By her count, she had seven months until her child came, so she could not use that as her excuse for declining obligations. “I will say I am spending time with my husband in privacy to get reacquainted.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “He will be gone in a day. That will be the end of that reasoning.”
“What?”
Her sister frowned. “He told Philip yesterday that he must leave on business tomorrow. He asked us to check on you and keep up your spirits.”
She bit her knuckle to fight back a scream. “He knew even then and did not tell me?”
Elizabeth bit her lip. “I am sorry, Rebecca. I assumed you knew.”
She forced an overly bright smile for her sister. “I knew of the voyage, but did not expect it to be so soon. Perhaps I will accompany him.”
She gasped. “You cannot go with him while he does business. No, we must think of another excuse.”
Rebecca sighed. “There is no need to excuse my absence, for I will face them all with my head held high. Mama and Clarise must do the same when they arrive, as should you when your child is born and you reenter society.”
Elizabeth nodded, but still looked worried. “I should get home. Philip will be looking for me.”
Rebecca swallowed the lump in her throat, wishing she felt as brave as her words. “Good day, sister.”
As soon as Elizabeth departed, Rebecca slid from the bed and saw to her morning ablutions with a quick hand. When Georgina entered the chamber, she was struggling to fasten the buttons on a white muslin morning dress with two rouleaux trimming the bottom of the skirt. The maid hurried forward to offer assistance.
“Where is my husband, Georgina?”
“At his office near the docks, m'lady.”
“Please tell Henry I require transport.”
“Yes, madam.” She hurried from the room without a sound.
Rebecca put on a white bonnet trimmed with small pink flowers and grabbed a reticule as she swept from the room. The white slippers on her feet pinched, but she didn't bother to search for a more comfortable pair. She paused only to put on a navy pelisse lined with ermine to protect her from the chilly morning air.
When she stepped outside her front door, she could hear the clatter of the horses' hooves on the street. Henry and the carriage came around the block a few seconds later. She met him at the end of the walkway, waiting as he opened the door before climbing in. “Lord Hanover's offices, please.”
He bowed his head, then closed the door and secured the latch. “Right away, m'lady.”
> The jostling of the carriage through the uneven streets did nothing to quell Rebecca's morning round of nausea. She gripped the strap hanging from the roof and focused on taking deep breaths until the carriage drew to a stop a short while later. She succeeded in subduing the nausea as she stepped from the carriage and got directions from Henry.
She switched to shallow breaths as the stench of rotting fish assaulted her nostrils. Rebecca fished a kerchief from the reticule and pressed it against her nose as she walked down the rough planks to Alex's office. She entered the door the driver had indicated, finding an empty reception room filled with gleaming oak furniture. The carpet was a near match for her pelisse, which she removed and draped over the coat rack in the corner after returning the scrap of lace to her reticule. “Hello?”
A few seconds after her tentative query, a young man emerged from a door off to the left. He was tall and burly, with the complexion and look of a farmer, but the morning suit of a man of status. He bowed his head. “May I help you, m'lady?”
“I am here to see Alex.”
He opened a leather bound book on the desk. “Do you have an appointment?”
She tilted her chin up another notch. “No.”
A frown marred his tanned brow. “I see. He is rather busy preparing for a voyage, m’lady—”
“So I have heard. You may tell him Lady Stan—” She shook her head. “Lady Hanover waits to see him.”
His mouth dropped open for a half-second before it closed with an audible click. “Begging your pardon, miss, er, madam. The captain said nothing about…” His cheeks had turned purple, and his hand seemed too large and awkward for the journal. “Congratulations.”
She gave him a brief smile and even briefer nod while she tapped her foot softly against the carpet. After he had disappeared through another door to the right, she turned her attention to the walls, focusing on the pictures.
Each was a miniature oil painting of a different ship. A schooner caught her eye, and she was squinting for the name when she felt Alex's breath on her neck.
“That is Rebellious. She helped me build my import company when I arrived in Boston after my half-brother sent me away.”