His jaw tightened at this last piece of information and his almost childlike inability to hide his emotions on such a subject made her love him even more. He was truly without guile.
“So, women pay to lay with him?”
“Among other things.”
He perked up at that, jealousy of Hugo forgotten, at least temporarily. “What kind of other things?”
“Whatever women want, Hugo will do.”
His eyes went dark at both her words and her tone. He swallowed. “When he left the day I visited your chambers, he looked at me. I would swear his expression was sexual.”
“It probably was, knowing Hugo. I don’t want to shock you, but he also services male clients.”
He didn’t look shocked, he looked amused. “I went to Eton, darling, I’m perfectly familiar with the things men sometimes do with each other.”
She hadn’t considered that. “You must view such a thing as a sin.” I wasn’t a question.
But her ever-surprising husband just shrugged. “In the scheme of things, men perpetrate much more heinous actions upon one another. As long a man is not forced—which I know sometimes happened at school—I do not believe it is anything to crusade about.”
“This cannot be the attitude of the Church?”
“No, positively not. And to speak of it isn’t encouraged. Not only is it considered a sin against God, but man as well. And, as I think you know, man’s punishment would be swift and sure. But enough of that,” he said, his expression growing sensual in a way that made her body tighten with anticipation. “I want to know more about what a woman wants.”
“Oh, you do?”
“I want to know what you want. I want you to teach me how to please you.”
“You already please me.”
His mouth pulled up on one side, his expression impish. “Thank you. But I should like to keep pleasing you; I do not want to be the type of man whose wife wanders.”
She laughed. “What would you like to know?”
His eyelids lowered. “I’ve read about cunnilingus.”
Her jaw dropped.
“That is not how it is said?”
“No, that’s correct. I just didn’t expect—”
He grinned. “I believe you might be blushing for the very first time.”
Melissa laughed. “You have embarrassed me.”
“Why?” he asked, suddenly serious. “Don’t you like it when a man does that to you?”
Melissa didn’t know how to tell him that none of the men she’d serviced over the years had wanted such a thing. She especially didn’t know how to tell him that only her female lovers had ever performed such acts on her.
He cocked his head. “Mel? What is it? You look . . . odd.”
She sucked her lower lip into her mouth. Yes, he knew what she’d done for a living. But this . . . for some reason, she shied away from this part of her sexual life. Perhaps it was because she’d been closest to her female lovers—they had usually been her choice, rather than her business.
“I do enjoy it,” she admitted. “But I have never received such a gift from a man.”
The moment stretched and she could practically hear his mind whirring. And then, “Ah, Sapphic love.” She didn’t say anything and a worried V appeared between his eyes. “Do you mean you prefer women?”
She smiled and shook her head. “I prefer you. You are the only person, male or female, I have ever loved, Magnus. But when it comes to sexual experience—Well, I’m afraid there is probably nothing I’ve not done.”
“Except received satisfactory cunnilingus from a man.”
She chuckled at his doggedness. “Well, yes, except that.”
“That is one thing I can give you that no other man has.”
“It isn’t a contest, Magnus.”
He slid his arm beneath her knees and stood, groaning and giving a theatrical stagger. “Have you gotten heavier, Mrs. Stanwyck?”
“I know you did not just ask your bride of barely a month if she was getting fat, Mister Stanwyck.”
He laughed, unabashed, and took her back to their bedroom and set her down inside the door.
“Now, take off your clothes,” he said, no longer smiling, his own hands already going to his waistcoat buttons.
They were naked and breathless in mere moments. He took a step toward her but stopped.
“I shall be back in half a jiffy, now get on the bed.” He jogged to the other room before she could answer, affording her the arousing sight of his firm bottom flexing its way into the other room.
She’d barely laid down when he returned with the big candelabrum from their dining room table.
“What—?”
“I want to see.”
Once he had lighted five candles he came to the bed. She was laying with her legs slightly apart, one leg bent at the knee and falling outward. His eyes were fixed on her, his lips slack, and his tongue darted out to moisten his mouth.
“I know I’m a savage,” he said, without looking up, “but I need to taste you immediately—before I receive instruction.”
She chuckled and let both knees fall open into a splayed, immodest position she knew would expose her completely.
He muttered something that sounded like a prayer and dropped to his hands and knees to crawl toward her.
“So beautiful,” he murmured, looking rather beautiful himself as he leaned low, the powerful muscles in his back and arms flexing, his tight bottom thrust in the air. His hands were warm and strong and gentle as his fingers parted her lips. He didn’t hesitate when he had her open but lapped her from her opening to her bud with a flat, hard stroke of his tongue. And then he moaned, the sound shuddering through her body.
Melissa let him play and get a sense of her, thrilled that her body could be this much of a delight to the person she loved. And then there was watching her saintly husband perform such a very earthy and erotic act. A saintly husband who turned out to be a remarkably fast learner.
With his tongue pointed into a tip, he probed at her opening, entering her with suggestive thrusts of his hot slick organ, his elbows pushing her wide while he fucked her with his tongue. She smiled at the vulgar word, deciding she might use it on him sometime and see if—
He stopped abruptly and licked toward her already stiff peak, which he circled with maddening precision, coming close, but never touching. She thrust her fingers into his hair and was just about to issue an order when his lips surrounded her clitoris, their pillowy warm wetness gentle but firm as he sucked her into his mouth, massaging her with his lips and tongue until she was half-mad.
Mel’s hips bucked, chasing his mouth when he pulled away. He looked up the length of her body, his face expectant, his lips slack, wet, reddened; his cheeks, chin, and even his nose slick from her juices. He was drenched in her.
“You must tell me how to make you climax like this.”
Her eyes rolled back in her head and she laughed weakly. “I don’t think you need any help from me.”
∞∞∞
She refused to help him, so Magnus had to experiment on his own. He had to admit he did not mind at all. He could see all of her, all the lovely places he’d felt with his hands and fingers. She let him explore, her body spread wide open to him under the light of half a dozen candles.
He knew she believed him to be naïve, but he certainly wasn’t stupid enough to think this was the type of activity men and their wives typically engaged in. But Magnus, contrary to what many people believed, thought a strong belief in God did not negate a strong desire for carnal relations with one’s wife. He refused to believe God would create such beautiful, fascinating creatures as women and want them to be hidden away. He planned on spending years getting to know every part of Melissa’s body. And he could make an excellent start in that direction tonight.
At first, he’d thought there were only her soft, swollen lips that concealed her jewel, the small fleshy nub that drove her mad. But when he spread her with his fing
ers he saw there was a second set of lips that were far more delicate and sensitive.
He licked them, alternating sides, sucking gently, using his lips, tongue, and even his teeth to nibble her gently, the way she did with his sac and shaft when pleasuring him.
He almost ejaculated onto their bed when he realized his licking was causing her flesh to swell and produce the lubricant that made their joining so slick, pleasurable, and erotic.
Her clitoris, he saw, had also grown, pushing back the protective covering he knew was called a hood, exposing skin of unsurpassed softness and sensitivity. He prodded the base of her bud with his pointed tongue, swirling around it in circles, until her hands slid into his hair and her hips pushed up at him; just as he did to her when she took him so deep in her mouth that he couldn’t help nudging her throat. And like him, she held his head, grinding against his mouth for her pleasure.
Magnus renewed his sucking while she used him, his tongue concentrating in areas that made her moan and thrust the hardest. When she bucked and ground against him hard enough to pull the hair from the roots, he slid the two middle fingers of his right hand into her sheath, curling them the way she’d taught him and searching for the small, rough spot that brought her extra pleasure.
Her body arched when he found the correct place, her back lifting off the bed so high that only her shoulders and feet still touched the bed. Magnus knelt high so that he could watch her expression of near pain as she gave in to her orgasm, her sweat-slicked breasts shuddering as she jerked with each savage contraction. Magnus stroked a hand over her midriff, stroking the gentle, feminine swell.
Her contractions began to come farther apart and were less violent in nature. When she shuddered and lowered to the bed, he used his knees to push her thighs wider and then bent low to guide himself to her entrance. She was so wet and swollen that his cock slipped to her back entrance and he’d accidentally pushed against her before he realized what he’d done.
He was about to pull away but she said, “Yes, Magnus, yes . . . that.” She reached between their bodies, her eyes opening lazily and latched on to his—most likely stunned—eyes. “Take me back there, please.”
He throbbed so hard at her begging he was worried he would not last to do what she was asking—something he had never even considered before but suddenly wanted fiercely.
She spread the wetness from her climax lower, until Magnus realized what she was doing. His erection was so wet and slick he wondered if he’d spent without realizing it.
She lifted her hips and reached blindly over her head. He saw what she was doing and pulled a pillow beneath her hips.
“Another,” she said, her breathing hoarse and ragged.
With two pillows thrusting her hips up high she was presented like a gift to him. She pulled her knees to her chest, the action opening exposing her fully to his gaze. And then she took his hand and sucked his middle finger into her mouth.
They stared into each other’s eyes as she slicked his finger and then moved it between her thighs. “You need to prepare me.” She pressed his finger against the tight pucker.
Magnus’s blood pounded in his ears so hard it was difficult to hear her. He took his hand from hers and pushed his body back, away from her. Her eyes widened and he smiled.
“Shhh,” he whispered, lowering himself back into the position he’d assumed earlier. “You know how I like to watch what I’m doing.”
He lowered his mouth over her, giving her jewel some attention before tracing the seam of her, spreading her with his hands, dragging his tongue back until he could explore this taboo part of her body.
She shivered beneath his licking. “Yes, Magnus. Yes . . .”
He smiled at her pleasure and commenced to lick and probe and nibble.
She was wet and musky with the mingled smells of their bodies and he shook with impatience to sample this unknown part of her. It took all his will to open her gently and slowly, thrusting his tongue deeper and deeper until he gently breached her opening, using tongue and finger together, stroking into her until she was groaning and grinding against him.
“More,” she ordered in a hoarse, desperate tone.
He slid in another finger, pushing more deeply, pumping her, sucking the tender skin of her inner thigh, reading the clues her body gave before allowing a third finger to join in.
His erection rubbed against the soft bedding, his organ hard and sticky as he anticipated the tight tunnel he was preparing.
Her hands scrabbled at his shoulders. “Now, Magnus. Please.”
He was up in an instant, kneeling between her spread thighs, positioning himself at her back opening.
“Slowly,” she breathed, her head thrown back. He put his slick, hot crown against the impossibly tight entrance, pushing until he just breached her.
“Oh, Melissa,” he groaned, the tightness exquisite. Her thighs quivered as she tilted, her position of supplication and need making him push deeper. It was certainly unlike anything he’d ever felt. The tightness was close enough to painful to make him cautious, but the knowledge of what he was doing—of how he was taking and possessing her—irresistibly erotic.
He kept pushing until their bodies touched and he was fully sheathed inside her. He hesitated, not wanting to hurt her. But she flexed her muscles and he gave a yelp of surprise, withdrawing far faster than he’d gone in.
“Hard, Magnus. Use me hard.”
His brain exploded at her words and he thrust into her just as she’d commanded: hard and deep, seated all the way to his tight bollocks. He groaned; she was slicker now, primed by his juices. Again, he withdrew and then slammed all the way in. And again. And again. Pounding her without mercy, her grunts of guttural pleasure chipping away at his control. His jaw clenched teeth-crackingly tight, as if that would hold back his release and prolong his pleasure. He wanted to do this for hours—for days—but his control slipped away and he pounded into her, keeping her almost bent in half as he used her body without care or consideration.
When he emptied himself deep inside her she clamped so tight around him that he could feel the pulse of his cock against her skin as he filled her, his body contracting and straining to spend every last drop.
As ever, he lost track of time in the pleasure-filled haze after he climaxed. When he woke from his brief death and saw he was still holding her knees to her chest, he moved to pull away.
She held him. “Don’t go,” she said, her legs lowering and wrapping around his waist.
“But I’ll crush you.”
“Then crush me.”
He lay back down, keeping his weight on his forearms, which also allowed him to see her glowing, beautiful face.
“That was . . .” He gave a weary chuckle. “Well, I don’t have the words to express myself just now.”
“Good.” The look she gave him was smug and it made him throb for her—both in his groin and his chest.
He opened his mouth, hesitated, and then closed it.
“What is it?”
Her expression was lazy and her smile slack.
“I want you to meet my parents.”
The ease disappeared from her face in an instant. “Oh, Magnus . . .”
“They know we’re married and I’ve received two letters asking if we’ll be attending Michael’s wedding in London—that’s less than a month away, darling.”
“Couldn’t you go?”
“What, alone?” He frowned down at her. “No,” he said before she could answer. “Of course I would not go without you.” He shook his head, a familiar, stubborn feeling taking hold of him. “I want us to go—together. I’ll tell the vicar we need a week to attend. He’ll understand. You’ll enjoy meeting everyone, Melissa. You just need a few weeks to settle into the idea.”
She stared at him, her expression unreadable. He knew he was behaving high-handedly, and any number of other unpleasant adverbs. But she was his wife, for heaven’s sake—she needed to meet his family.
“You know wh
at will happen the moment I step into the public eye, Magnus? Your brother’s wedding will involve a good number of people, won’t it? Do you understand the danger?”
He nodded. “I understand.”
She took a deep breath, expanding beneath his body, and finally exhaled. “Very well, I will go.”
Magnus’s heart stuttered at the expression of resignation on her face. He knew this was hard for her—it would be difficult for both of them. “Thank you, darling.”
She gave him a half-hearted smile. “You’re welcome, Magnus.”
“I love you, Mrs. Stanwyck.”
Her smile tightened. “I dearly hope nothing happens to make you stop loving me, Magnus.”
He kissed her hard. “Hush with your foolishness. Nothing can come between us and our love.”
He would remember those words later.
Chapter Seventeen
Melissa waved as Magnus rode down the drive. He would be gone most of the day, visiting a family on the far edges of the parish. She’d arranged to meet Mrs. Heeley to discuss the upcoming fall church schedule that morning, take a tour of the vicarage garden, and also decide which duty she would rather take off Mrs. Heeley’s hands: the children’s choir or decorating the church once a week with flowers. Since Melissa knew nothing of singing or children, she thought she would take the flowers. But when she’d told Magnus he’d cajoled her into the choir.
“Musical knowledge is not really necessary. In fact, if you were musical, it would be unbearable torment. It would actually be best if you were tone deaf. Are you tone deaf? Let’s hear you sing.”
“Very droll. But how can I manage a choir if I don’t know what I’m doing?”
“This is the children’s choir, darling, they are none of them older than five or six. You will mainly be keeping them from eating prayer books or bits of the church during practice. You’ll be able to choose a helper. Pick Miss Gloria Philpot, she has a glorious voice to go along with her name and is excellent with children. Besides—” He’d taken her in his arms, his hand going to her belly, and he’d stroked her with a look of possession that had almost broken her heart. “You need to start getting comfortable with children—I’m hoping we’ll have one of our own one day soon. And it’s best to practice on somebody else’s children first.”
Melissa and The Vicar (The Seducers Book 1) Page 22