After all, Edward had appealed to her in a way no one ever had. He hadn’t tried to tell her how she ought to feel or what she should want. Instead, he’d shown her all the reasons she ought to give in and enjoy this, all the reasons it would prove to be everything her aunt had promised. And he’d done it with talk of science. He’d used words like hypothesis, variable, and scholarly, whispering them in her ear like the most sensual words ever created.
It had worked like a charm, and now she was clinging to him with her arms and legs as he lowered them to the sofa, arranging her so that she straddled his thighs. Taking hold of the neckline of her bodice, he jerked it down and let her pull her arms free of the sleeves, leaving the garment bunched around her waist. Their fingers met and intertwined at the laces of her stays, but her hands shook too badly to manage it so she allowed him to take over. He worked with swift, deft movements to unlace her and toss the undergarment aside.
Then, bracing his hands against her back, he lunged and fit his mouth against one breast. She gasped and let her head fall back, closing her eyes as he sucked her through the fabric of her chemise. The bud hardened against his tongue, and each suckling pull of his mouth strengthened the pulsations between her legs.
He jerked down the chemise before kissing his way to the other breast. The stroke of his tongue sent a keening cry flying from her lips in startled shock. It was amazing what a difference the absence of a bit of fabric could make. The pleasure seemed magnified with no barriers between them, the rough, hot rasp of his tongue making her feel as if she’d splinter into a thousand pieces.
She writhed in his lap, creating the most delicious friction between them. The fit of his cock against her mons struck her as being stunningly perfect, each movement making her burn hotter and hotter. They worked together to free her from the chemise, a feat that took longer than it should have with Edward refusing to take his mouth off her breast and her inability to sit still. Finally, it fell free of her arms to bare her from the waist up, her clothing falling around her hips like the petals of a white Madonna lily.
He gripped her hips and held her tighter against him, increasing the pressure that made bright spots of light explode within her field of vision. His mouth traveled upward from her breasts, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses along her chest and neck, his tongue flicking at the line of her jaw.
His heavy breaths fanned against the damp spots left by his lips and tongue, each one like a caress all their own. He moved against her, his rhythm a perfect counterpoint to the artless undulations of her hips. The pressure building within her seemed to reach its zenith, culminating with such force that it stole the air from her lungs. Her lips parted on a breathless cry, and she held on to his shoulders, her back arching and her thighs shuddering as exhilarating waves of euphoria rippled through her.
Edward rested his head against her breast and held her tight, slowing the motions of his hips as the little storm within her reached its peak, then abated with gentle tremors that shook her from head to toe.
Falling limp against him, she closed her eyes and drew in deep breaths. She let out a huff of disbelief, unable to believe the speed and intensity of what had just happened.
“Did I just…”
“Spend,” Edward murmured between lazy flicks of his tongue against her nipple. “Yes, you did. Most gloriously, I might add.”
Sitting up straight, she glanced down to find him watching her with some amusement, and quite a bit of unquenched desire.
“I can’t believe that happened when you…you weren’t even inside me yet.”
The boyish grin that crossed his face affected her almost as much as his use of the word ‘variable’. “There’s far more to this than me being inside you. For instance…”
She held her breath as he began delving beneath her skirts, his hands stroking up her legs and over the edges of her stockings. The tickle of his fingers against the inside of one thigh made her shiver, the brush of them against her curls turning it into a shudder. She bit her lip and groaned when his touch found her hidden flesh, gliding over the wet folds until he found the throbbing bud of her clitoris. He stroked it with slow, gentle circles—which proved almost more than she could bear after her recent climax.
He began kissing her again, nibbling his way from her neck to her lips. She remained all too aware of the rigid organ pressing against the inside of her thigh, the urgency of it a reminder of what would come next. Where she’d once been uninterested in anything having to do with a man’s cock, she now found herself desperate for Edward’s.
“When I get you undressed and in a bed, I’ll spread you out and have a proper taste,” he murmured, slipping one finger into her channel and using his thumb to pick up the slow circling motions. “Then you’ll know what it’s like to come against my tongue.”
She moaned, moving against his hand in a silent plea for more. The invasion of that one finger felt like too much, yet not enough at the same time. Without breaking his stride, he used his free hand to take hold of one of hers.
“Give me a hand, CeCe,” he rasped, guiding her into the folds of her gown and petticoats and pressing her palm against his fall.
She fumbled at his buttons, her fingers colliding with his periodically as his finger and thumb went on stroking her to the point of madness. Frustration and desire tangled within her until she could hardly tell one from the other as she did her best to free him without the benefit of sight. That she couldn’t see what either of them were doing seemed to heighten the experience, enhancing the feel of him touching her and the heat and hardness of the organ that fell into her palm. She didn’t need to see his cock to remember the sight of it from yesterday, hard and jutting out from his body in an impressive display. He let his head fall against the back of the couch and growled, thrusting into her palm as she explored him, her fingers gliding up his shaft and her thumb stroking over the broad head. Wetness smeared her fingers, drawn from him as easily as his touch drew moisture from deep within her.
She emitted an annoyed sigh when his fingers fell away from her, but he only smiled while moving her hand away to take over with his cock. Her disappointment melted into anticipation as he fit the tip against her opening, pushing slowly into her.
Her breath caught in her throat as he began to enter her, his thick cock stretching her with a sharp sting. The discomfort was nothing like she’d experienced her first time, her wetness slicking the way until he’d given her half his length. He took hold of her hips and lifted her before propelling her back down while simultaneously thrusting upward. He filled her to the hilt, pressing his mouth to hers and muffling her startled cry. Her stiffened body went pliant as her channel eased around him, the pulsations taking up a slow rhythm within her once more.
She gave in to the urge to move, taking up the same rhythm she had when pressed against him. Only this time, the pleasure of it was far greater than before, sending deep twinges of ecstasy rippling through her entire being.
“Oh,” she whispered, eyes going wide as she met Edwards gaze. “Oh, my God.”
He urged her to keep moving, his jaw tight as he met each of her downward motions with thrusts of his hips.
“Don’t stop,” he ground out. “Take your pleasure, Clare.”
His words freed her and she let go, closing her eyes and giving herself over to every wanton urge coming to mind. She threaded her fingers in his hair and kissed him, testing different motions until she found the one that pushed her back toward that elusive precipice. Rocking against him in a slow rhythm, she moaned with each deep plunge of his cock. He kissed every available inch of skin his mouth landed on, his grip on her buttocks tightening as he helped guide her motions, moving with her in a pace so perfect it almost felt as if they’d done this before. Or, as if they were too perfectly matched not to do it right.
This was what she’d been missing. This was what she might never have known if she hadn’t opened herself to the possibility. Now that she knew it could be this way, she never wan
ted it to end.
“You’re…wearing…too many clothes,” she panted, tangling her fingers in the folds of his cravat.
Edward let out a sound that was half-laugh, half-moan as she began loosening the knot. “You’re welcome to remedy that if you wish.”
She did wish it. She wanted those supple stretches of skin and muscle bared to her view, hot and solid at her fingertips. Tearing at his buttons with clumsy motions, she allowed him to take control, his hips bucking as he stroked her toward her finish. Pulling his waistcoat and shirt open, she planted her hands on his chest, the wiry, golden hairs tickling her palms. His muscles flexed and heaved with every motion, the hypnotic sight captivating her to the point of distraction. She explored him with her touch, then lowered her head to kiss him as he’d done her, lingering in the places that produced sounds of pleasure from deep in his throat. She wanted more of him—wanted them both undressed with every naked inch pressed together—but there was no time. Climax loomed near and she forgot everything other than chasing it to its conclusion. Gripping his shoulders, she met his swift strokes with her own desperate movements, grinding against him with wild abandon.
He cupped her breast, and a light pinch of her nipple sent her over the edge. Her sheath clenched around him, powerful spasms shaking her to her core as the world around her faded until nothing existed except for him inside of her. She fell atop him with a rough exhale, becoming formless and weightless in his arms. His rough breaths against her neck and the shudders wracking him told Clare he would soon follow. But, she could only cling to him as he pounded into her a few more times before pulling free with a ragged moan, spending into the obscurity of her skirts.
The tension melted from his body, and he kept one arm around her while sinking into the sofa cushions, his harsh breaths mingling with her own swift pants. She nuzzled into the warm haven of his chest, noticing for the first time that he smelled of oakmoss and cedar. Inhaling the woodsy scent, she closed her eyes and rested in the moment. Unlike the end of her short and unsatisfying tryst with Baldwin Barnaby, Clare found she was content to linger with Edward, enjoying the pleasant twinge between her legs that reminded her so poignantly of what they’d just done.
Already, she wanted more, every bit of what the next thirty days would bring. A smile stretched her lips as she realized a month might never be enough. Edward would never find himself without a keeper if he treated her to such ecstasy every time he took her to bed.
Shifting beneath her, he lifted her chin until she met his gaze. That darling smile of his was back, making her want to kiss him before tumbling them both to the floor and begging him for more.
“Conclusion?” he asked, his grin turning wicked.
Returning his smile, she propped her chin in her hand. “The hypothesis has been proven correct…for now. I do believe we ought to conduct further tests to ensure we were truly correct.”
He reached up to adjust her spectacles, which had been knocked askew during their frenzied coupling. “I am happy to continue acting as a most willing test subject.”
Chapter 6
Edward gazed at the woman sprawled atop him, her nude upper body bared to his gaze, the sheets tangling with her long legs. After gathering the strength to leave the couch, they had finished undressing, leaving their clothing in a heap on the floor of her study before adjourning to Clare’s bedroom. There, surrounded by the opulent decor of her chamber, they’d fallen into bed together. He found himself startled to realize that he wanted her again only minutes after having been inside her, the acute sensation of arousal overwhelming him the moment he’d gotten her naked body in his arms. But, while he realized this hadn’t been her first time, she’d been as tight as a virgin when he’d first penetrated her. He supposed it had been some time since her first abysmal lover, and that meant he ought not attempt to take her again so soon. Which meant going no further than the occasional kiss, though his hands did wander now and then. How could they not with such a tempting creature in his arms?
She was even more alluring in the aftermath of their fucking, her hair a wavy mess around her face, her eyes bright and shining, her spectacles set aside on the washstand. It surprised him to notice that she hadn’t retreated from him afterward, something he’d expected at the onset. But it seemed that once a person managed to get Clare to open up, she remained that way, her smiles wide and her eyes hiding nothing. He hadn’t needed her to say it aloud for him to know she had enjoyed herself, but it had certainly been nice to have confirmation. Now, not only was he secure in the knowledge that he wouldn’t have to worry about money for the next month, he had finally assuaged his curiosity over what it would be like to bed her.
“I don’t understand it,” he murmured, reaching out to tuck a lock of her hair behind one ear.
“Don’t understand what?” she asked, propping her chin on his chest and gazing up at him.
“How no one has discovered the little spitfire I was just introduced to. I came here intending to seduce you, then fuck you into a mindless stupor. What I didn’t expect was for you to fuck me within an inch of my life.”
She threw her head back and laughed, that unrestrained, boisterous sound he couldn’t hear enough of. It brightened the room, filling it with light and sound.
“I suppose it’s because I never allowed anyone to uncover that part of me. Really, I had no idea it existed. After that first time I saw no need to repeat the experience. I had a number of other interests to devote my time and passion to.”
“So I noticed,” he remarked, inclining his head in the direction of her study. “Your interests have quite overtaken that room. It’s a wonder you don’t get lost in there.”
She laughed again, this time a soft, girlish giggle. It made him want to make her laugh again so he could go on listening to that musical sound for what remained of the day.
“If I do not make an appearance by lunchtime, Aunt Helene often braves the study to ensure I haven’t been swallowed by the clutter. No one else seems to understand it, but while it all looks very disordered I know where everything is. If I allow the servants to clean, I’ll never be able to find a thing.”
Thinking back to the collections filling the next room, he asked the one question that had been on his mind from the moment he’d stepped inside.
“What sorts of things do you collect? I gathered that is the purpose of the chests and shelves?”
She nodded, her chin digging into his chest. He adjusted her so her head rested on the pillow beside his.
“Quite a number of things,” she replied. “It began with watches when I was a girl. I’ve always been fascinated with them, and the number of designs that exist. In that room there is a chest containing forty-seven watches.”
He smirked at her. “Only forty-seven?”
“I happen to be very particular about watches,” she said with a haughty sniff. “I seek out only the most unique designs, and have an affinity for gaudy, overblown styles. Aside from the timepieces, there’s my collection of geological specimens.”
“Rocks?” he asked with a little smirk. “I used to collect those when I was a boy—pebbles and stones. None of them were very remarkable now that I think of it, but you couldn’t have convinced me of that back then.”
“Minerals,” she corrected, her voice taking on that governess-like quality which made his cock react in the most intriguing way. “The sorts that, when broken open, reveal the most stunning crystallized formations on the inside. A friend of mine is a geologist, and during her travels she excavates and sends me samples of her discoveries for my collection.”
“Don’t you ever accompany her on these excavations?”
“Occasionally, though recently her travels have taken her farther from home for longer periods of time. I do not like to leave Aunt Helene for so long, so I’ve settled for living vicariously through Gilly and her letters.”
“Your aunt doesn’t strike me as needing a companion or caretaker,” he said, remembering the sight of the spr
y woman rushing down the front steps to get off to her villa. The woman appeared to possess the vitality of one half her age.
“No,” Clare agreed. “But I owe her everything. She took us in—my sister, Alice, and I—after we lost both our parents to scarlet fever. She’d been recently widowed, but brought us into her home without hesitation and gave us the best years of her life, raising us as if we were her own. Alice left us to wed a few years ago and never looked back. I believe she thinks herself above us, her being the wife of a baron now and the two of us a scandalous widow and a bluestocking spinster.”
Edward didn’t have to meet this Alice woman to decide he did not like her. The hurt in Clare’s voice told him all that he needed to know. Her sister’s abandonment had dealt quite a blow to herself as well as Helene.
“I’d choose the widow and the bluestocking over the baron any day,” he said, trying to inject a bit of lightness into his tone.
It worked, producing another one of her smiles, and she rolled onto her back, hands folded over her abdomen. “We’ve both come to accept that Alice has her life apart from us. Aunt Helene takes comfort in my presence, so I am happy to remain here with her.”
But what of marriage and a family of your own?
The question nearly fell off the tip of his tongue, but he clamped his lips around it with relentless self-control. He hardly knew this woman, despite their recent intimacy. They were getting on so well, he did not want to ruin it with such talk. As beautiful and vivacious as she was, Edward could imagine that Clare had had a challenging time finding her match. A woman with her blunt tongue, independent streak, and love of science would intimidate a man without the bollocks to accept her being smarter than him. And those who did take an interest in her keen mind seemed lacking in other regards, like her first lover. It was no wonder she spent so much of her time with watches and rocks.
Tempting the Bluestocking: A Gentleman Courtesans Novella Page 6