His Mischievous Bride: Regency Matchmaker Book Two

by Jones, Celeste

  Still wearing my corset, I gazed up from the bed, my brain in a fog, as William quickly stood and removed his clothing, coming to me in all his naked glory. His desire for me was apparent in the stiff rod of his cock. Firm and ready, I longed to feel it inside me, filling me and making me his. His forever.

  My eyes raked over him as he hovered above me. His chest muscular and taut, I reached my hand out to feel his bare flesh for the first time beneath my fingertips. A charge ran up my arm at the contact and I spread my fingers wide to take in as much of him as possible, despite knowing this was only the first moment of the rest of our lives.

  We had believed ourselves at the cusp of the rest of our lives years ago, but a foolish quarrel had sent us on separate paths. Only fate, and a matchmaker with an odd name and warm smile, had brought us back together. I dared not take any moment for granted or assume that forever would last as long as I might hope.

  As though granting my wish, time seemed to stand still as I gazed upon William St. Clair, my husband. ‘Til death do us part. My breath caught in my throat and, in a moment of brutal honesty, I realized I had been waiting for this precise instant in time for all of eternity. This man, my sweet William, was all I had ever wanted or needed.

  And currently, need and want were at the forefront of both our minds. William straddled me as I lay upon the bed, supporting himself on knees and elbows so as not to crush me and also, I noted, to allow him the opportunity to look upon me at his leisure, though there was nothing leisurely about his gaze, full of intensity and desire that it was.

  Though spent by my completion brought on by his mouth upon my nether region, I was by no means satisfied. Dampness pooled between my thighs and I slipped them open in invitation as William continued his perusal of my body.

  "Do not fool yourself into believing I did not notice your naughty invitation, Calliope." His dark eyes bore into mine, fierce but with a hint of playfulness which was borne out by his tweaking my nose. "I shall claim you all in due time, my love. Until then, I shall enjoy the rewards of my long wait for you—for our wedding night."

  To know he had longed for me with the same ferocity with which I had yearned for him filled me with joy, but also sadness as I knew the heartache which I had endured and hated the notion he had been sad or in pain in those stolen moments when he thought of me, as I had him.

  "This corset is a delightful contraption," he said before lowering his mouth to the swell of my bosom which was held in place by the undergarment. I shall admit, as a woman no longer in the bloom of youth, I appreciated the enhancement which the restrictive device provided. But soon, the play of his lips over my sensitive flesh had me writhing against the constraint of the corset, my head lolling from side to side and my back arching to give him better access. My nipples throbbed beneath their covering, aching for his touch.

  I wriggled my hands beneath myself and attempted to loosen the ties of the loathsome article, but simply could not manage it. Until then, I had appreciated my maid’s strong grip on the corset strings, but in my retched agony to be free, I made a mental note to review Franny’s attention to detail with her at the earliest opportunity.

  "Whatever are you about, Calliope?" William paused in his luscious torture and surveyed my contortions. "Ah, so it would appear you wish to be relieved of your final stitch of clothing, is that correct, my dear?"

  "Oh, yes, please," I panted.

  Rather than moving off the bed so I could stand and have the offending garment removed, William simply rolled me over onto my stomach and stretched my hands out flat on the bed above my head, as though I were a sea bather about to dive into the ocean.

  "This is nearly as delightful as your front view." He snaked his hand down the length of my still corseted back and lower to the curve of my bare bottom. Cupping the left side, he gave a squeeze followed by a quick swat. He chuckled and swatted again.

  "William," I hissed. "What are you doing?" I turned my head and tried to catch a glimpse of the activities happening, literally, behind my back, but to no avail. I was left to wonder at what he might have in mind.

  "‘Tis delightful to see the way my hand makes a pink imprint on your ladylike flesh when I spank you."

  "I have done nothing to deserve a spanking," I said, full of countess-like indignation.

  Ignoring my protest and obvious annoyance, William continued his playful swatting of my unprotected derriere. He slapped one side a couple of times then trailed his fingertips across my tingling flesh before doing the same on the other cheek. Frustrated at not being able to see what he was up to, I strained my neck hoping this time it would miraculously elongate, so I could keep an eye on my errant husband. Again, my efforts were fruitless, though not entirely. A wall mirror caught my attention and enabled me to lie upon the bed and know exactly what my husband was doing. For once, I thought before I spoke, or more accurately thought and then kept my mouth shut.

  From my vantage point, I could not only enjoy the image of my husband’s naked body, including the firm cock which appeared ready to explode, but I had the pleasure of watching his enjoyment. Much as I found his methods annoying and disruptive in my quest for consummation, I could not deny spying on him along with the tingling swats to my rear had me at a fever pitch.

  As I watched, biting my lip to keep from gasping and giving away my stealthy observations of him, he grasped a buttock cheek in each hand and separated the rounded globes. To my horror and mortification, he made a thorough visual inspection of my bottom hole, a devious smile forming on his lips. He rearranged his hands so one held my bottom cheeks apart while the other slipped into the sopping moisture of my womanly core, gathering up the dewy residue of my desire and then slickening it around that most private opening before pressing against the rosette closure.

  I inhaled sharply through gritted teeth. The pressure there an alluring, yet shameful, thrill.

  "Has anyone had you here, my sweet Callie?" he asked, never taking his eyes off his task of teasing the opening down there.

  "N-no," I said. In truth, I had never considered such an act in the least bit appealing. However, when William’s finger breached the opening and made entrance, I rethought my prior objections. My outstretched hands clutched at the bedclothes and I stole a glance in the mirror to watch as he worked his digit further into my backend opening. ‘Twas a mesmerizing sight, which ought to have filled me with revulsion and disgust, but on the contrary, it had the opposite effect on me. The fullness of my arse sent pulses of desire throughout my nether region and I shamelessly rubbed my womanhood on the delicate fabric covering the bed, desperate for friction and release. Catching my reflection in the mirror, my eyes were wild, and my hair looked as though it had been caught in a carpet beater.

  My breasts strained against the corset, which still had not been removed, my spouse having become distracted by exploring the depths of my bottom.

  On the verge of another climax, he delayed my satisfaction by removing his finger and casually walking to the wash basin to cleanse his hands. "I believe," he said as I heard his footsteps approach the bed, "I shall quite enjoy claiming your pretty bottom nearly as much as you are going to enjoy it."

  "No, ‘tis not true," I protested, though my ragged breath and continued writhing upon the bed belied my statement.

  William knelt upon the bed and patted the curve of my bottom. "We shall see when the time comes, will we not?"

  I shall admit I was sorry the time was not at that moment, but dared not say such a thing aloud. As though reading my thoughts, William said, "I am going to claim you, my wife, thoroughly and often, and in many different ways."

  My toes curled into the coverlet at the thought of what depraved and delicious plans he had for me.

  Finally, he worked loose the strings holding my corset in place, opened the garment and slipped it over my head. I rolled onto my back and watched his face as he took in the view of me, utterly naked and eager for him.

  A slow smile spread over his mouth and h
e reached out and stroked a finger across the tip of one breast and then the other. "I have dreamt about you, like this, for years." Licking his lips, he leaned down and sucked them in turn. A heated pulse shot straight to my already wet core. William continued to lick and tug at my nipples while inserting his fingers into my womanly passage. His fingers were thick and rough and filled me, the walls of my cunny hugging their hard length. I moaned and writhed beneath him.

  "Please," I begged. If further explanation of my request was required, I would be unable to comply, though I did raise my hips and push against William’s fingers while moaning in a most unladylike fashion.

  "Yes, my sweet," William said after reluctantly releasing my nipple from his mouth. "I can wait no longer."

  Straddling me, his hard thighs on either side of mine, he paused and stared into my eyes. "You, it has always been you who owned my heart." And then slid his hard length into me. Finally, I felt complete. Until that moment, I had not realized throughout my entire life, some piece of me had been missing, but now I was whole.

  I gasped and welcomed each thrust. At first, he moved gently, almost reverently, but soon he plunged in and out of me rapidly. Another climax built within me and I called out his name as I reached my apex.

  Sated, I used my last bits of energy to move with him through his final strokes. His face, which I had secretly dreamed about for years, contorted in ecstasy as he spilled his seed inside me in a hot burst and I understood, for the first time in my life, what it meant to be a woman.

  Chapter 4

  William

  I woke from a sound sleep with a start, sat straight up in bed and scanned the unfamiliar room for my weapon. The cool sheets against my flesh told me I was naked and for a fleeting moment I wondered if I had been captured by the enemy, though this was hardly the decor of a torture chamber.

  Gentle noise and movement next to me sent me jumping from the bed, taking the quilt along with me to cover myself, though it would be little protection against an enemy intent upon doing me harm.

  "Oh dear," a soft voice said from beneath the rumpled sheets. "Must you leave so soon?"

  Good heavens, what had I done? My eyes adjusted to the semi-darkness of the room and I realized I had not been captured by the enemy but had, to my horror, apparently spent the night with a woman in a very elegant room.

  Had I lost my mind? Years of military training and I had allowed myself to be seduced and disarmed by a stranger?

  I took in the feminine shape beneath the sheets. Though her head was buried beneath a pillow, I could see long chocolate colored tresses spread across bare shoulders and despite being covered, the luscious curves were not hidden.

  Perhaps if I dressed quickly and left, I could avoid an awkward encounter. Grabbing my clothes from various places on the floor, I made my way to the sitting room where I hoped to dress and escape without notice. My progress was impeded when I stumbled over a large trunk unceremoniously and inconveniently located directly in front of the door to the bed chamber. The matter was further complicated by the fact my hands were full of my clothing, boots and I still, for reasons unknown to myself, clutched a quilt around my body. I landed upon the floor flat on my arse.

  The commotion created by my efforts at a stealthy escape roused my bedmate sufficiently for her to vacate the bed and join me in the sitting room.

  Why this situation had rendered me, a colonel in the British Army, utterly useless and—dare I say it—afraid—I had no idea. It was as though some strange spell had been cast over me and I had lost all sense.

  Shrieks of laughter filled the room and I looked up to see... Callie. As I sat there, bare-assed, upon the floor my mind cleared, and I remembered. Everything. I was a married man and my wife, my delectable, delightful and delicious wife was none other than Callie. It had not been a cruel dream, but was in fact, a most joyous reality.

  My heart sung with happiness at seeing her and realizing we were bound to one another for all eternity as man and wife.

  She brought her face to mine and kissed me. "William," she said, then in a particularly agile move, she straddled me, her hands planted on either side of my face. "Are you trying to get away from me? Where are you off to? I thought we were having our honeymoon."

  Pushing herself up, she perched atop me. I had an unfettered view of the globes of her breasts, the nipples firm and eager. I covered them with my hands, pebbles against my palms. Ah. Perhaps I had indeed been captured, as I had thought upon waking... captured and enraptured by the enchantress whose legs spread across my mid-section, the moisture of her arousal dampening my stomach.

  While I toyed with her breasts, I watched her eyes darken, learning what pleased her. It soon became evident while my wife enjoyed any touch to her breasts, it was the pinching and tugging of her nipples which had her gasping in fulfillment, squirming with longing. I took each bud between my thumb and forefinger and squeezed, gauging her reaction and testing the limits of her tolerance.

  "You are quite correct, my dear," I said. "However, I shall take charge of our lovemaking, not you." I gave her bottom a firm swat and watched as her eyes went wide.

  She gasped then squealed. "William, you cannot spank me. I am an adult." But, in direct contrast to her protestations of maturity, she jumped from her position seated on my waist and scurried to the other side of the room. "Besides," she teased, her eyes challenging, "I can still outrun you."

  Well, she caught me completely off guard. So much for my years of military training and attention to detail. Before I could respond, my vixen of a wife rushed into the bedchamber of our suite and pulled the door closed. I heard her giggling uproariously while I turned the knob back and forth.

  "Calliope," I said, "this is ridiculous. Open the door."

  "You’re the big strong colonel," she said. "Has a little door got you trapped?"

  "Yes, I am the big strong colonel and I am going to show you just how big and strong I am, right across your naughty bottom. You are in some deep trouble, little wife. Just you wait and see when I get hold of you."

  * * *

  Callie

  Oh, what had gotten into me?

  I do tend to run off when I get nervous or things become difficult or uncomfortable. Lady Ambrosia noticed that about me immediately. She was right. Right about so many things.

  Why on earth was I trying to get away from William, when for years I had secretly wondered where he was and what might have been?

  In the light of day, it all seemed too real for me. Even though we were joking around, the weight of what we had done, felt much too serious.

  And so, I was standing on one side of a door trying to outlast my virile new husband.

  His stern words did amazing, shocking, things to my womanly parts. Frankly, I had feared I was dead ‘down there’. Until last night, it had been so long since I had been with a man. And this morning, the growl of his voice, his threats of punishment, sent a naughty pulse racing to my cunny.

  I braced my foot against the frame of the door to give myself some leverage to combat William’s superior strength.

  "This is not funny anymore, Calliope. Now, let go of the door, because if I have to break it down, I will. And then I shall paddle your bottom with one of the scraps of wood."

  "Oh," I squealed. Just the idea of it made my bottom tingle and without thinking, I reached both hands back to protect my backside. As soon as I released the door knob in order to shield my rear, the door flew open, the force throwing William to the floor on the other side.

  What had I done? Instead of cuddling on the bed, I was in the bedroom clasping my arse while my beloved sprawled across the floor of the sitting room. Rushing to his side, I knelt next to him, taking his hand in mine. "William, sweet William," I cried. "Have you hurt yourself?" I stared at his precious face, his eyes were closed, and he was not moving at all. What had I done? Laying my ear to his chest, I detected the steady rhythm of his heart, which gave me some cause for relief. I patted his cheeks and even li
fted his eyelids, but he was unresponsive.

  ‘Twas all my fault. I gazed upon him in utter misery. Once again, my impulsiveness and folly had made a mess of things.

  Determined to correct this mistake, I grabbed William beneath the arms and dragged him across the room, intending to at least put him on the bed until he regained consciousness. A doctor should have been called, but the idea of explaining how my new husband had come to be knocked out on the floor of our suite was too embarrassing, even for me.

  No, I had created this dilemma and I would fix it. With renewed determination, I gave a mighty heave on William’s arms—but I simply did not have the strength to move his large, muscular body.

  Filled with despair, I lay on the floor next to him, my head on his chest, a slow tear trickled down my cheek. "Oh, William," I whispered. "I am so sorry. I love you so very much. In truth, I have for years and now when we have a chance to be together, I have botched it all."

  I hugged his rugged chest and gave over to my sadness. I poured my heart out. How sad I had been when I learned he had joined the army. My despair that we had quarreled. And my complete joy at being reunited.

  He remained unmoving, though the steady pace of his breathing gave me some reassurance. I gathered myself together and stood, he needed medical attention and it was up to me to get it for him, loathe though I was to consider the gossip it would generate. I would need to dress before searching for help. I collected the gown I had worn the night before and contemplated how I would get myself into it. It had been years since I had dressed, or undressed, alone.

  "Where do you think you are going, little lady?"

  I jumped at the sound of his voice and ran to William, who was now standing, throwing my arms around him and hugging him as hard as I could. "Oh, my darling, I was so worried about you." I covered his face in kisses. "Are you hurt?"