“Please, do not scream,” Michael spoke quietly from where he stood leaning against the panel door, his hands behind his back. The latch and lock clicked into place as Olivia turned her head slowly to regard him. Michael had removed his topcoat and waistcoat, and his cravat was hanging off one shoulder, apparently forgotten when he’d quietly entered the salon.
She straightened, but left her foot resting on the bench, her knee bent enough so that her leg hid the dark space between the top of her thighs. Her hands moved to rest on her hips, and she could almost hear Michael as he suddenly swallowed – hard.
“You’ll have to kiss me, then,” she ordered, her head cocking to one side as she watched his eyes travel the length of her body and back up to her face. Michael stood frozen in place, the sight of his nearly naked wife an erotic surprise that both delighted and frightened him. As he stared, she slowly lowered her foot to the floor and turned to face him. She is allowing me to see her nude, he thought suddenly, just as I dreamed she would. Her upturned breasts, topped with their hardened nipples, were framed with waves of her mahogany hair until she slowly pushed it away from one side and over her shoulder. His gaze followed the curve of her hip and thigh, the sweep of her long legs still sheathed in their translucent stockings, up to the darker area between the tops of her thighs where his hand had been the night before, along the line of her arm as her hand rested on her hip.
“I should warn you that I have intentions to do far more than kiss you,” Michael murmured and moved quickly to embrace her, one arm pulling her against him and the other cupping the side of her face. His lips captured hers, and he kissed her, more gently than his quick moves would suggest. The kiss deepened, and Olivia’s body seemed to melt and mold to fit against the front of his as she returned the kiss. Soon, though, he allowed her to take a breath as he moved his lips to her jawline, to her neck, to the lobes of her ears, where he suckled for a moment, sending shivers through her body. He was only slightly aware of her fingers undoing the buttons of his shirt, the fastenings of his breeches, until she had pulled down the fall and placed her hand against his hardened manhood. His lips let go of her ear as his body spasmed. A low moan escaped him as he felt Olivia’s other hand slide slowly over his chest and around to his back, her bare breasts pressed hard against him.
Shrugging the shirt off his body and arms, he slid one hand down past the small of her back and over her bottom to cup one globe. Olivia grinned and gasped as his other hand slid around her shoulder and to the side of a breast, lifting the mound, gently kneading it before he pressed his thumb against the hardened bud, circling it until he heard her breath catch, felt her body liquefy, watched her bee-stung lips open for his hungry mouth. Her entire body trembled, her breaths coming more quickly as he moved his lips to suckle the other nipple.
Her fingers combed through his hair as she kissed his temple and ears. The shivers of pleasure increased to waves, and she cried out his name as he continued to lick and suckle her. When he finally let go and returned his lips to hers, Olivia was no longer standing before him but was held up, her body lifted by his large hands under her bottom and the back of her thighs. She gasped as the tip of one finger caressed the warm, wet folds between her legs as she wrapped them around his hips.
He carried her to the bed, his lips never leaving hers. And in a single movement, she was suddenly on her back, her hair splayed out across the linens, her legs no longer anchored on his body but bent slightly as she dug her heels into the mattress as she pushed herself farther onto the bed. Michael removed his breeches and stockings, all the while keeping his eyes locked on hers. He was aware of her entire body trembling, shivering as if she was cold.
“I have never done this before,” he murmured suddenly, his motions slowing as he realized he, too, was trembling.
Olivia gave him an incredulous look, her eyebrows cocking in a manner that suggested she did not believe him. “Neither have I,” she whispered as she watched him climb onto the bed and hover over her. He rested on one elbow and shook his head.
“I have never bedded a virgin,” he clarified, his hand sliding ever so lightly down the front of her body as he leaned down to kiss her. His lips took hers as the hand moved up and spread out over her breast and then slid down the front of her body, lighting caressing her belly and hips before moving toward her center.
“Oh,” Olivia replied, a bit surprised by the confession. “You look as if you ...”
“I do not wish to hurt you,” he said quietly, his lips moving down to her breast and her belly, while his hand reached the space between her thighs.
She spread her legs a bit and allowed his probing fingers to touch her inner thighs. His hand continued its journey to the space in the soft, wet folds of her womanhood, his middle finger finding the engorged nub therein. Touching it lightly, he thrilled when she writhed next to him, her chest rising from the bed. Rubbing several fingers around the tender spot, he watched as her head fell back and she began to moan. He didn’t realize how close he’d brought her to the brink until one of her knees was suddenly against his thigh and he heard her whisper, “It will not be so bad.” She panted quietly, and then she cried out in ecstasy as one of his fingers found her sheath and slid in easily. He pulled it out slowly as her back arced and her breath caught. He added another finger and watched her as her chest heaved, her breasts so full and her nipples so hard that the sight of them alone made it almost impossible for him not to allow the release his body craved.
Olivia placed a hand against his face and lifted her lips to his as his fingers were making their slow journey out of her. “Come into me now, I beg you,” she whispered, her breaths coming faster.
Michael regarded her for only a moment, surprised by her plea. She’s begging me to bed her, he realized, his heart soaring. She must feel affection for me! He positioned himself so his knees were between her legs. She lifted hers and moved her hands to his bottom, pulling on his buttocks until the tip of his manhood, wet and hard and silken, rested against her wet folds. Closing his eyes, Michael slowly drew himself back and then, when he knew he could hold on no longer, he opened his eyes and entered her slowly, very slowly, all the while watching her face to be sure he did not cause her too much pain.
Aware of something keeping him from her, he stopped his movement. But one of Olivia’s hands moved to touch the back of his manhood, stroked his sac, while her other hand suddenly pulled hard on his bottom, and his cock was impaling her, filling her and making her arc her back and gasp with pain or pleasure, he could not tell. He grunted at the sudden grip on his manhood as it slid inside her hot, wet haven, amazed at how her body took him in and continued to do so when he tried to pull out just a bit. Her gasps and whimpers excited him, and he increased his thrusts, deepening his penetration into her over and over until he marveled at the looming ecstasy he knew he was about to experience.
With his release imminent, he tried to pull himself out. But Olivia’s hands gripped his buttocks and pulled him back into her, hard. The climax caught him, gripped him, and he called out her name, his mouth coming down onto one of her shoulders so that he might stifle the sound as flames of pleasure burned through him and a curtain of black descended.
Olivia arced her back again at the sensations that coursed through her body, at the feeling of liquid warmth that filled her, the incredible waves of pleasure that were just beginning to subside. She was left trembling, her entire body visibly shaking as if she was chilled despite the intense heat of his body where it was pressed against hers.
After a moment, the only sounds were of her quiet whimpers and Michael’s labored breathing against her neck. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and clung to him, felt his body shivering despite the waves of heat she felt wash over her.
“Are you cold?” Michael whispered, feeling her trembling body while at the same time realizing his own body was doing the same.
“No,” Olivia replie
d, drowsily, her arm sliding over his shoulder to pull him back down to her chest. “I am blissfully warm.” He was still inside her, although the sensation of fullness had subsided and his heartbeat had slowed somewhat. She could feel his slowing breaths against her neck and thought perhaps he had fallen asleep. How can he sleep? she wondered, her body still thrumming, occasion shocks of pleasure still coursing through her body.
Relaxing a bit, she slid her feet down his legs to rest on his calves. She kissed his forehead. Will it be like this every time? she wondered, reveling in the sensations and the closeness and the security she felt. His seed is in me, she realized then, a small smile touching her lips.
Michael tried to raise his head again but gave up and allowed her to hold him against her. “Did I ... did it hurt?”
Purring, Olivia wondered how to respond. It had hurt, but she hadn’t been frightened, and he’d seen to it she was prepared for his manhood. And then the pain had subsided and was replaced by that sense of fullness. “A bit, but your lovemaking was ... exquisite,” she murmured, her beatific expression enough to assuage his fears.
“I’ve never ...,” Michael started to whisper and then went quiet. I am still inside her, he thought, remembering how she had prevented him from pulling out of her as euphoria overtook his body. My seed is in her.
“Never, what?” Olivia whispered, her hand going to the side of his head as her fingers spread out to caress his hair.
“I have never allowed myself to ... to release my seed inside a woman before,” he stuttered, wondering why he thought it important that she know that about him.
Olivia considered his confession for a moment. “So, you probably have no illegitimate children running about?” she whispered, hoping the relief she felt at this news did not color her voice.
“None,” he agreed, his head shifting as if he was shaking his head. “Do you suppose you might ... give me a child or two or ..?” his voice trailed off as if he had fallen asleep.
Olivia smiled broadly before turning to kiss his forehead. “As many as you wish, as long as you continue to visit me in my bedchamber,” she replied, wondering how often he might do so.
“Then, would it be alright if I stayed the night right here?” he wondered, his voice sounding very far way. “I rather think I shall want to visit you again this evening.”
Olivia suppressed a giggle. “You had best, since I will not allow you to leave,” she murmured, still combing her fingers through his dark hair. She heard his muffled chuckle and then found herself being lifted as he rolled to lay beneath her, his cock still firmly inside her body. She whimpered and then settled her head into the small of his shoulder, aware that he kissed her hair as he wrapped his arms around her body and pulled her legs so that they rested on either side of his legs.
“Will you miss your Tues ..?” Olivia stopped, chiding herself for nearly asking him what she’d wondered since Edward had told her of Michael’s evenings with her sister. Despite Eloisa’s assurances that she no longer had feelings for Michael, Olivia couldn’t help but feel a bit of uncertainty. What if Eloisa’s new love proved fleeting? What if Huntington discovered Eloisa’s secret and left her? Eloisa would require a protector; Michael, no doubt, would step in and resume his former duty.
Michael was regarding her with a raised eyebrow, poised for her to complete her question. “Will I miss my ..?” he repeated quietly, holding the last word for effect. For a moment, his face was unreadable, but a hint of bemusement replaced his quizzical expression.
“Tuesday nights?” Olivia finished, not realizing she was holding her breath.
There.
She’d said it aloud.
She had no idea how he would respond. With indignation? He was her husband, after all – he could do as he liked. Or would he be angry? Perhaps she should be fearful of ever bringing up the topic. She’d never felt he would strike out at her or do her harm, though. Perhaps he would be apologetic. He had been the self-appointed protector of the daughter of his business partner and had kept the arrangement completely secret from him and the rest of the family. While doing so, he had protected the family from certain scandal. Olivia fought the urge to avert her eyes, to beg forgiveness and claim she did not want to know the answer.
But she wanted to know.
This was her husband. A man who had stood beside her merely a week ago and claimed in his vows to love and honor her. To love her in sickness and health. To forsake all others...
Settling his shoulders into the mattress and emitting a long sigh as he did so, Michael stared at the fabric of the overhead canopy and contemplated how to respond. He had to admit to himself that he usually looked forward to Tuesdays. He liked the short walks to Eloisa’s townhouse, even in mid-January. He liked the attention that Eloisa had bestowed on him as she removed his topcoat and took his hat in the tiny vestibule. He appreciated the tea and biscuits she had ready in the small parlor. He liked the dinners she prepared for him and sometimes enjoyed the conversation they shared whilst eating. He liked the glass of port she poured for him when dinner was finished.
But, most of all, he liked that for the entire time he was with her, he could pretend she was someone else. He could imagine he was with the woman who now lay atop him. So ... would he miss those Tuesday nights? he wondered, his lips curving up at the edges. “No,” he said quietly, gazing at Olivia. He reached out a hand and cupped her cheek as his head rocked back and forth on the pillow. “Not one bit,” he admitted, both to himself and to her.
Olivia’s eyes widened. There was sincerity in how he replied, she realized. “No?” she repeated in a whisper. A tooth caught her lower lip in a effort to stave off the tears she could feel pricking the corners of her eyes.
With some difficulty, Michael lifted himself onto one elbow and smiled. “How can I when I know that the Tuesday nights to come will be so much better?” he murmured, his thumb stroking the hair near her face.
Finally taking a deep breath, Olivia stared at her husband, a curtain of mahogany hair covering one eye. “Better?” she repeated, not grasping his meaning.
With her bee-stung lips, Michael couldn’t resist the urge to kiss her again. She looks so wanton, he thought. “You’ll be real,” he replied before pulling her face to his and kissing her gently. “You are real. I won’t have to pretend it’s you who I am spending the evening with.” He relaxed back onto the bed so that he could use both hands to stroke her face and her arms and her hair.
“Pretend?”
His lips were against hers again, though, and she had to concentrate on his tongue and the feel of his lips and the way his hand had dropped from her cheek to her breast and then moved back up to push her hair away from her face. They stared at one another when the sudden kiss ended.
“I never understood Edward’s fascination with Anna,” Michael said quietly as he stroked Olivia’s hair, his fingers following the waves of mahogany to their ends.
Olivia widened her eyes and regarded Michael with a quizzical expression, her brow furrowing just a bit. “He is not fascinated by her,” she replied quietly. “He’s in love with her. He always wished for her to be his wife.”
“As I was saying,” Michael continued, cupping her cheek with a hand and stroking her hair with the other. “I never understood it ... until now,” he added, his lips pressing against her forehead and then moving to her temple and then to her jaw.
“Now?” Olivia whispered, wondering what had enlightened him.
“Yes. I was always a bit fascinated by you,” he whispered, his lips moving to her neck and one arm moving to her back.
“Oh?” she replied, her eyes closing as she allowed herself to be held atop him by his powerful arm.
“I have always felt affection for you, to be sure,” Michael continued, his tongue moving in to stroke the hollow of her throat, his arm moving her body as he rolled them onto their sides. “Olivia, my
beautiful,” he whispered. “I love you, and I do believe I have since the moment my eyes beheld you,” he murmured. Sighing, he moved himself so that she was no longer pressed onto him. She moaned as he carefully pulled himself out of her and rolled onto his back, his exhaustion from their lovemaking complete.
Sighing, Olivia considered his words, and then she stiffened as she realized what he had just said.
My beautiful. I love you. Not El, I love you as she’d heard that night he’d climbed into her bed and startled her from sleep. He really wasn’t looking for Eloisa’s room that night then, she realized, remembering his vehement denial Tuesday night. And I did not believe him, she thought sadly. “If I had known it was you ... when you came into my room last week, I would not have ... I would not have shouted as I did,” she whispered then, taking his hand and pressing it against her breast much like he had done when he’d crawled into her bed.
Michael opened his eyes a bit and considered her comment. “But then, we would not have been discovered and ... we wouldn’t be married.” At the moment, he found he couldn’t imagine such a scenario.
“Oh, I think we would be,” Olivia countered, her fingers caressing the back of his hand. “You would have had to ask me for my hand and explained why you wanted to marry quickly.” Her comment was met with silence, and Olivia wondered what he was thinking. “And I would have accommodated you quite willingly, I think,” she continued, “Once you explained that you had sorted things with your sister and already had my father’s blessing.”
At Michael’s continued silence, she lifted her head and regarded him, sighing when she realized he was sound asleep. The hand that rested on her breast gently let go its hold and moved to wrap around her hand, covering it completely. Olivia relaxed into the side of his body and finally allowed herself to sleep.
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