“Beauregard dances like velvet,” Camilla raised her voice to Beau’s defense. “I’ve danced with none finer.”
“That’s only because you’ve never danced with me,” Reagan grinned. He wanted to discover the reason for Elizabeth’s overture, but viewing her flight, decided to bide his time until he could speak with her privately. “I believe there’s only one way to settle this.” He held out his hand to Camilla. “You must allow me the next dance.”
Chapter Seventy-Five
With the last guests leaving after midnight and except for the early departure of Elizabeth, Camilla considered her party a success. She decided that although her engagement ring fell short of her expectations, Leroy would have the rest of his life to make up for it.
Reagan had mulled over Elizabeth’s departure far longer than Camilla, but by the end of the evening his thoughts turned to more important matters. He considered Amanda’s outward contentment to be a major accomplishment. That she continued to display a gay mood as they bade Camilla goodnight he deemed a victory.
Once inside the carriage, Amanda sat comfortably near as they laughed about Beauregard’s insistence that he and Reagan dance with each other to determine who the better dancer was.
“I thought you were seriously considering his request when he stepped forward with arms outstretched! And then,” she giggled, “and then…”
“And then I surprised you all by dancing by myself,” Reagan finished with a chuckle.
“Poor Mrs. Muelder must’ve thought you’d lost your mind.”
“Or, had too much to drink,” he murmured, bringing his arm to rest on her shoulder.
Her voice turned slightly scolding. “Aside from your antics, I’d have to say it was an enjoyable evening.” She snuggled against Reagan’s side, stifling a yawn. “Do you suppose Camilla will be happy as Leroy’s wife? For some reason she spent most of her time with Beauregard.”
“I’m not sure,” he said, his chin resting near her temple. “But Leroy certainly seems happy.”
In the silence that followed, the carriage’s swaying had a hypnotic effect and Amanda’s eyelids began to droop. She gradually allowed them to close as a comforting peace settled over her, drifting into light sleep. Reagan enjoyed her nestling against him, but his breath stopped when she accidentally brushed her hand against his groin. He groaned inwardly, unable to control his rapid response to the feather-like caress.
Sitting rigidly, he fought the urge to take her in his arMs. He knew her oblivious to the torture she was inflicting and might resist if he touched her. As Amanda rested against his shoulder, a shadowy vision rose with her perfume, oddly out of place with his oft-replayed memories of their love-play. This memory was different, unfamiliar.
But as her face turned toward him, the haunting image faded and her warm body proved too much a temptation. Reaching over, he gently lifted her chin. Amanda’s eyes remained closed, but her lips parted invitingly before his hungry gaze. He brushed his lips against hers in a caress that brought no words of reproach but only a soft sigh. Needing no further encouragement, he closed his hand over hers as he pressed her against the cushions and eagerly sought her mouth.
Amanda felt herself being shifted in Reagan’s arMs. She became aware that he was kissing her and that she was kissing back. She tried lifting her hand but found her fingers pressed tightly against his manhood. Shocked by his obvious arousal, Amanda drew back, aghast. “R-Rea-gan-” she stammered. “What are you doing?”
“Please,” he whispered, his lips trailing her throat, “allow me,” he slid lower still, “to touch you.” He removed his hand from hers and with a knuckle, brushed the lace edge of her bodice. The contact sent chills racing through her body as her senses were fully awakened. Though her heart pounded, Amanda didn’t cry out or repulse his amorous maneuver. He took her hesitation as a call to continue. With deft fingers he loosened the front lacings while tracing his tongue over the contour of her lips. Reaching inside, he cupped one of her breasts, feeling an immediate reaction against his palm.
Amanda gasped at the fervor of her response. She wanted to protest but her body rebelled, forcing her to melt helplessly into the cushions. Taking advantage of her vulnerability, he brushed aside the cloth, exploring the other breast until her passions were nearly as strong as his.
“You promised,” she accused raggedly, her voice wavering. “This wasn’t part of our bargain.”
“Dear Amanda,” he whispered, “it’s now after midnight.” As if proving his intentions, his hand found its way beneath her skirt, his fingers inching past her knee.
Amanda hurriedly clamped a hand over the cloth between them. She stopped him short of his intended goal, but her unsated cravings screamed for fulfillment. “We’ll be ho-home soon,” she stammered, straightening her skirt. “I can’t be seen like this!”
“Don’t worry, love,” he breathed, his fingers creeping up another small degree. “I instructed the driver to use the back entrance. So, you needn’t fret.” Without removing his hand, Reagan recaptured her lips. With slow deliberation he increased the pressure on her mouth until she yielded. As his tongue found hers, Amanda became lost in a sea of sensations. Her hand gradually ceased its parrying barrier, allowing him to explore her at will. Having spurned his advances so long, she’d nearly forgotten the aching intensity of his touch. Her body begged for the fulfillment she knew to be had, if only she’d allow it. What her pride denied, her heart only wanted. She wanted to be loved as only a cherished wife could. She knew no greater torture as her passions muddied the certainty of her convictions.
Testing the limits of her concession, Reagan fumbled with his trousers then pulled her onto his lap. She remained soft and pliant as he positioned her legs, certain if he didn’t possess her, he’d go mad for want of her. Amanda experienced a myriad of sensations as Reagan’s thumb found and teased a peaking breast. She felt consumed, writhing in near ecstasy when his mouth captured a roseate peak, his tongue a hot, flicking firebrand against her skin. Her fingers twined in his hair as she succumbed to the pleasure of his unrelenting seduction. As her breath became labored, Reagan recognized she neared the point of consent. Shifting her skirt, he reached through the opening of her pantalets. He reclaimed her mouth as he gripped her hips, urging her closer. When she felt bare skin next to hers, she wedged a hand against his chest. “Nay!” she whispered. “We mustn’t!”
“Love me, Amanda,” Reagan pleaded, his hands pressing her against him until she could feel his need. “Please, let me love you.” With intentional slowness he began moving against her. The pressure caused shards of pleasure to pulsate in quickening waves until soft whimpering escaped her lips. Amanda’s heart raged with indecision. She couldn’t give consent when so much lay between them. But neither could she refuse that which she so desperately wanted. At that moment Reagan chose for her, thrusting upwards until completely sheathed in her womanly softness. Shuddering, he clasped her with a grip that prevented retreat. As he began to move, Amanda felt caught in a trap from which she couldn’t escape. Time seemed to cease as he thrust against her in quickening tempo and she arched in unbearable pleasure, enjoining his frenetic rhythm with an abandon she didn’t know existed. Her rapture soared as pleasure radiated through her loins like wildfire and when a thousand tiny explosions burst within her, she cried out. While still quivering in his arms, Reagan groaned, crushing her against him until his own spasms ceased.
In the aftermath, Amanda was stunned by what she’d just done. Yet, despite the mindset this should’ve infuriated her, she felt a weight had been lifted. She no longer wanted to feel anger toward her husband. Tears formed in her eyes as Reagan pressed a soft kiss on her throat. If indeed he didn’t love her, at least she could pretend he did when he made love to her.
If he intended words of endearment, the sudden turning of the carriage into the driveway lost the moment. Amanda wriggled uselessly as she tried rising from his lap. “Help me!” she entreated. “We mustn’t be seen like t
his!”
“Oh, I don’t know,” he said, giving her a playful squeeze. “I don’t think it’s the first time a driver has witnessed an indelicate circumstance.”
“Oh no!” She managed to rise a few inches when the carriage suddenly hit a rut, dropping her forcefully.
“Easy woman!” Reagan grunted through stiff lips. “As much as I enjoy the feel of you, you’re wreaking havoc on my privates!” Placing both hands around her waist, he lifted Amanda onto the seat where she wasted no time repositioning her skirt and bodice.
“Button your pants!” she urged as the carriage came to a stop. By the time the door opened, Amanda had regained enough composure to be calmly aided from the conveyance.
They climbed the back stairs, not stopping until they reached the safety of their chambers. Reagan grinned wickedly while lighting a lamp. “Milady, you’ve given new meaning to a man taking a summer’s pleasant ride!”
“Shhh!” she whispered, reaching for the back of her dress. “You’ll wake your family.” After undoing the first few buttons, she turned to Reagan.
“What?” he teased. “Now, you can’t wait to get undressed?” After finishing the task, he watched as she shrugged out of the garment, devouring the sight of her exposed bosom. Encircling her waist with his arms, he kissed her neck. “You can’t imagine how I’ve longed to touch you,” he murmured before letting go to unbutton his shirt. “I’ve never been so thankful to be married as I was tonight.”
Amanda said nothing as she hung up her gown before removing her hairpins. Though she still felt she’d been wronged, feeding her rage had become too wearying.
Reagan undressed while Amanda opened the bureau to inspect her sleepwear. She decided that after the incautious ride home, a modest nightgown would serve her well. She didn’t notice when Reagan slipped behind her until he removed her hand from her intended selection. “No, love. You shan’t wear those tonight.”
He drew his arms upward until her breasts strained to near bursting against her chemise. “Ah, now there’s a sight for sore eyes!” He chuckled as he pressed himself against her backside. “I’m afraid it’d be a waste of time--”
“Reagan,” she pleaded as he turned her in his arMs. “It seems we’ve done more than enough…” she looked at him imploringly, “…it’s late…”
“Nay, milady!” He ran his hands over her hips before pressing her against him. Her eyes widened as she felt the reason for his eagerness.
“You’re worse than a rutting stag!” She tried breaking free but found herself swept up before being carried toward the bed. “Shouldn’t you be content with the plunder you secured while my wits weren’t about me?”
Reagan grinned as he withdrew his arm, relishing the feel of her while she slid against his naked body. “I’ve been nigh starved unto death these past months. You can’t fault me if I’ve more pressing needs than sleep.” Reaching down, he peeled off her chemise. “Don’t worry,” he said, flinging the shift over his shoulder. “I should be satisfied come morning.”
As his smoldering gaze traversed her body, Amanda thought to remain unresponsive. But when he cupped her face and tasted her lips, her arms somehow found their way around his neck.
“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed, his gaze dipping to take his fill of silken flesh. A hand traced a path over her flanks as his other captured a breast. It was as if he wanted to memorize every part of her, leaving no place untouched, his mouth once again exploring her body. Amanda trembled from the chill air as well as anticipation and when he lifted her, she nestled against him like melted wax. Then, resting a knee upon the bed, Reagan lowered her before encompassing her with his body.
Amanda sighed in surrender. She would decide her marital position later, for tonight she couldn’t think while Reagan slanted his mouth over hers in a penetrating kiss. Leisurely, and with deliberate care, he made love, not yielding to his own mounting ardor until Amanda was fully sated. Then, mindful of the fragile gift he’d just been granted, he lay beside her in a tender embrace. As a blissful contentment settled over him, he determined he wouldn’t allow another barrier between them. He decidedly preferred married life, after all.
Chapter Seventy-Six
Amanda awakened to sounds of water splashing in the bathing chamber. Groaning, she pulled a pillow over her head to obscure morning sunshine streaming through the window.
“That ought t’ do for th’ misses,” a voice penetrated her pillow. “There’s plenty of clean towels and scented soaps she’s so fond of.”
“Thank you, Lela,” Reagan said. “Please tell Mrs. Baker we’d appreciate a breakfast tray to be sent up in about an hour.” Closing the door, Reagan approached the bed to give Amanda’s bottom a playful slap. When she peeked out with one bleary eye, he chuckled. “Arise, lazybones!”
“Tisn’t fair!” she grumbled, covering her eye with the palm of her hand. “You kept me up half the night.”
“You weren’t complaining last night,” he said as he tugged the coverlet. “In fact, you were begging for more.”
“I did not,” she countered, snatching the blanket and looking warily at her husband. After a night of amorous lovemaking, she presumed there’d be time to reconsider her position. “I’ll need my wrapper, if you don’t mind.”
Reagan was aware that she was totally bare beneath the covers. “Oh, but I do mind, milady,” he said. “A husband has certain rights, and one of them is to view his wife in various states of undress.”
“You used that up last night,” she argued, her attention drawn to the tub. She felt an intense desire for a hot, soapy bath. Returning her gaze to her husband, she attempted a stern demeanor. “Now please bring me my wrapper.”
Reagan folded his arms and leaned against the bedpost. “No.” He lifted a brow, waiting to see what she’d do.
“Then, I’ll just stay in bed until you leave.”
“Oh, I have all morning,” he said, inspecting his fingernails before tucking them under his arm. “And I’m afraid the water’s getting cold.”
Amanda glared as she pointed at the window. “But, it’s broad daylight.”
“So it is,” he agreed, smiling broadly.
“It’s-it’s-oohhh!” Throwing back the covers, she scooted to the edge of the bed, giving the linen a hard yank. Wrapping the sheet around her, she entered the bathing chamber and stood at the mirror, pinning her hair. Seeing his intense gaze in the reflection, Amanda had the urge to torment him just a little.
“Will you let me bathe in peace?” she asked. Reagan’s eyes were drawn to her fingers as she lifted the tucked end of the linen. When he didn’t answer, she released the cloth, letting it fall. Amanda couldn’t know the sight of her bare form filled him with such desire; it was as if his passions hadn’t been eased. Unaware of his sudden fervor, she stepped into the tub and with her back toward him, vigorously sudsed her cloth.
“I shan’t be long,” she warbled, “then you can bathe, if you wish.” Hearing an unexpected thud, she turned to see him reaching for his other boot.
“What are you doing?” she said as the second boot joined the other. He then began to undo his buttons. As his shirt flew across the floor, her eyes widened. He grinned lecherously while undoing his trousers.
“You can just wait until I finish,” Amanda warned when he dropped the last of his clothing.
“I’m not chasing you out,” Reagan said, stepping in the water. “I’m joining you.” Grasping both edges of the porcelain, he lowered himself until trapping Amanda on either side with his legs.
Amanda scooted as far forward as the tub allowed, and as she hunched forward, she gave him an unobstructed view of her rounded backside. “This is outrageous!” she cried, pinching his toe. “I can’t even enjoy a mere bath! This is what I get for allowing you--”
“Allowing me what?” Reagan pulled Amanda toward him, savoring her softness. “The simple pleasures that other married men lay claim to?”
He then took her cloth, lathering it befo
re scrubbing her back. As his fingers worked downward, she ceased her objections, reveling in the impromptu massage. Afterward, he planted a kiss on her neck while reaching around to cup both breasts. Pleasurable sensations coursed through Amanda’s body as he leisurely caressed her. With a sigh, she closed her eyes and lay against his chest. There was no use fighting him, she thought. Sooner or later he’d have his fill.
After a few moments, he placed the cloth in her hand. “What am I to do with this?” she asked, giggling.
“Why, you’re going to wash my back,” he said, nuzzling her neck while running hands along her thighs.
“I can’t reach it,” she said. “I’m in an impossible position.”
“Well, then, let me help you,” he whispered. Raising her knee, he turned her until her legs girdled him. “There,” he said, draping her arms around his neck. “You’re now in position.” As he waited, his eyes filled with mischief. Not sure what he was about, Amanda laid the soapy cloth on his neck and stroked in a circular motion. As she reached further, she found his lips against hers while he lifted her intimately onto his lap.
Amanda burst into laughter. “That tickles,” she protested. “Hold still or I shan’t be able to finish.”
Reagan luxuriated in the feel of her wet skin under his moving hands. He nibbled her ear before raining kisses down her throat. As Amanda continued to wash, she shifted the cloth to her other hand, stretching to reach his lower back.
With ravishment on his mind, he grabbed her hips, but Amanda dropped the cloth to run bare fingers over his skin. “What is that?” she asked. “There’s something all over your back.” She tried looking over his shoulder but finally rose on her knees. “Let me see,” she said, pushing him sideways to lean behind him. “Good Lord, Reagan,” she gasped. “You have scratches all over your back!” She sat on her heels as Reagan tried looking over his shoulder.
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