“You are the perfect wife.”
He adjusted a towel on the stone to cover the evidence of his overexuberance, thankful for his stamina. Cathryn would not go unsatisfied today. He jumped back into the pool, eager to pleasure her. “You have talents I look forward to exploring in depth.” He swam up between her legs and stroked her soft skin. “You’re so very beautiful.”
“You’re the first person to tell me so, and I thank you very much.” She leaned forward and kissed him. Such sweet lips, soft and full.
“I’m sure many people have thought it.” Geoffrey appeared more the fool with each new accounting.
“You’re the only one that concerns me.” She straightened and his attention returned to her breasts. Leaning back on the towels, she smiled at the comfortable cushion. “Much better, Beast.” Her legs drifted apart, offering a tantalizing glimpse of his ultimate target.
“I live to serve you, love.” His hands stroked up her legs and spread her enough to give him access to her body. He cupped her breasts and tugged at her erect nipples as he considered how to pleasure her in this position. Sucking on each peak and getting harder with each of her whimpers, he dropped one hand to part her curls and seek her sex.
“Oh, Julian, I’m ready for you now.”
“Let me pleasure you first.” His hand was at an awkward angle, but he managed to circle her clit with his thumb, drawing long sighs of satisfaction from her. He pulled back and probed deeper with his other hand. He stared at her curls and considered doing something he had never done before. Gamahuching, larking or tonguing—he’d heard the practice called all three. He’d given it little thought, until Vauxhall. Since then, the concept had grown in appeal. He wanted to taste her, needed to taste her. His lips were only inches from her sex, and he’d wager she’d enjoy his mouth as much as he did hers.
He spread her legs wider and leaned in, then he cupped her buttocks in his hands and lifted her sex towards his mouth. Her clean scent invited him in and he nuzzled her curls, shifting to part them with one hand while supporting her with the other. Her clit peeked out at him and he kissed it, pleased at her whimper.
“Oh, Julian, are you certain you should?”
“Yes,” he growled and he licked her slit with his tongue. Delicious.
“Oh.”
That was the last word Cat uttered for the next few minutes, although she said it dozens, perhaps hundreds of times. Each cry sent a corresponding jolt of pleasure through Julian as he tongued her. He used his fingers to penetrate her and soon found her slick and ready for his cock, but he was determined for her to climax before he entered her.
Flicking his tongue across her clit, he heard her moans intensify. Her cries shuddered and she stiffened as he deepened the pressure of his mouth. Soon his face was pressed firmly against her, two fingers delving in and out of her as he quickened the pace. A high keening cry rewarded him and she stiffened for a considerable time, clenching his head between her legs as her cries grew even higher in pitch. He didn’t stop until she grabbed his hair and began panting wildly, pulling him away.
He’d never given a woman such a powerful orgasm. He barely resisted the urge to pound his chest and howl his triumph. This was the best feeling on earth. He’d never been prouder. His cock was hard as a spike, but he should let her enjoy this moment.
He floated away and watched her lie back on the towels, her chest heaving from her exertion. She turned her head and gave him a dazzling smile. “Thank you, Beast.”
He swam up beside her, admiring the flush of her ripe body. “You’re welcome, love.”
“I see that Violet was wrong…that night in Vauxhall.”
He shook his head, somewhat reluctant to admit his inexperience. “She wasn’t wrong. Many men never…”
“Yes, not one in Fanny Hill.” Cat heaved a great sigh, which echoed off the walls of the bath. “But you do…and very well, I might add.”
He floated away on his back, his prick bobbing to the surface. “I never had before.” This was a fine gift to her for their reunion night. He was almost proud of his brand of virginity.
She sat up sharply. “Never?”
“Never.” His cock had always ruled the bed. In retrospect, he’d been a selfish lover, never offering, thinking it somewhat inconvenient, as he was eager to bury himself inside the woman’s sex. Penetration had been what the women seemed to want.
She slipped into the water, still clutching the side. “I’m glad you did today.”
He held out his hand and she was soon cradled in his arms. He could hold her like this all day, but his cock was eager for another go. “I shall make a habit of it, love. I enjoyed it nearly as much as you.”
“I doubt that, but I thank you all the same.” She flashed him a brilliant smile that warmed his heart. “You’ve just earned more of my love and respect.”
He lifted her out of the water and sat her down on top of a towel. “Many women never…touch a man. You’re superior in that regard, as in so many others.” He pulled himself up and out, dragging his hands through his hair before reaching for her. “Are you ready to share more joy with me?” He helped her up, his rigid prick bobbing between them as a constant reminder of his intentions.
“Oh, yes, please. If you’re able, so soon.” Her genuine response and blatant staring made him thicken further.
“I’m able.” He threw towels onto the wooden benches and led Cat over. “Have you ever made love like the beasts?”
She laughed lightly. “Before you, only on my back, with most of my nightclothes on. Very civilized coupling.”
“Not today.” Her eyes were wide with excitement as he bent her over the top bench. “Although you can use towels—I don’t want splinters to mar our honeymoon.”
She giggled as she complied, kneeling on the bottom bench. Her fine ass beckoned him, and his cock wasted no time divining the source of all pleasure. She was hot and slick and glorious. Julian wedged in several inches with little resistance. A loud moan and the familiar chorus of “Oh Julian” began. Her tightness needed time to stretch and he eased in and out, cherishing the woman who would be his forever. He thrust forward and she backed into him at the same time, causing him to penetrate deeper than he intended so soon. Her moan seemed laced with pain and he stopped, embedded inside her. “Are you all right, love?”
“Oh, yes, very much.”
Some women could not take all of him, and he hesitated, but she wiggled her bottom, wreaking havoc on his senses. “Be a beast, Julian.”
A dam broke within him and he withdrew to her loud gasp, then plunged into her, unleashing his restraint as she moved in unison with him. “Yes, yes, yes.”
He grasped her hips and pulled her towards him, lost in the pleasure of her wetness. “My sweet love.” He pounded her like the animal he was inside. She screamed her enjoyment of each stroke, comfortably taking as much as he could give. He could be his true self with this woman. She was perfect for him. His equal. His mate.
His passion burst and his moans of release joined hers. Deep inside her, he felt the hot gush of his seed and a dim thought of conception passed through his brain. He wanted children with this woman, and he felt certain they would come. Dreams of a grand life together washed through him as he leaned over her back, thoroughly drained. Kissing her damp skin, a vision of the two of them lounging on a beach entered his head. “Would you like to honeymoon in the Mediterranean?”
She nodded her inclined head as her breath evened out. “I should like to see Greece.” She straightened and turned to face him, so exquisite she robbed him of his senses. “After our baby is firmly planted in my womb, we can have whatever romantic adventures you want.”
Chapter Twenty-six
Gorham House
November 17, 1838
“Our final order of business is Mrs. Burns’ discussion of the word murr.” Julian addressed the overheated drawing room full of fine gentlemen and ladies, mostly members of the Philological Society and their wives. His
hair covered his burgundy collar, and Cathryn found him utterly enchanting, although the marchioness had declared him unkempt. The marquis and his wife shared a couch near the door, flanked by two daughters and sons-in-law. Fiona was notably absent but promised to be discrete at the wedding tomorrow in Newtown Green. Rune and Violet sat beaming in a back row with other meeting observers, in stark contrast to the many stodgy faces present. Only Violet’s mother’s fierce objection to Americans appeared to stand in the way of their happiness.
Julian started to step aside from his makeshift podium, and Cathryn gathered her saffron skirt to accommodate him on the settee beside her. “Before Mrs. Burns speaks, may I say that I have grown rather fond of the word these past six weeks?”
Cathryn looked up to see him staring at her most disconcertingly. “Lady Sibley and I owe our…affection for one another to this strange new word, and to Mrs. Burns’ skillful matchmaking.” We should have saved the brandy for after the meeting. Julian rarely wears his heart on his sleeve in public. “I should like to thank her for her efforts in that regard and for her part in our…” He glanced over to the duke and finished carefully, “reunion.”
All day people had tiptoed around the duke and his crimes. The gossip columns were still alluding to her abduction and his henchmen’s involvement in Julian’s attack, dubbing him the Rapacious Royal. She caught Mr. Clarke’s eye and shared a smile. They had completed the herculean task—the Digenis Acritas was off to publication in the morning, and a fine piece of work. He had done the bulk of the translating, supervised by her delighted father. She had added minor edits, which even she admitted elevated the quality of the piece.
Julian settled beside her and took her hand in his, setting them both back into proper balance. They were simply best together, and she shared his need to touch as much as possible. Every point of contact was a comfort, and they saw no need to deny themselves when their wedding was imminent.
Melina crossed the room and stared at the manuscripts piled on a table. “I should like to point out that the gentlemen of the society are doing themselves a great disservice barring Lady Sibley’s membership.” Cathryn froze, squeezing Julian’s hand for support. He had done his best, but some battles had to be fought in small pieces.
Melina glanced around the room. “Has any one of you completed this volume of work…in four dialects?” She picked up a slim leather book. The Greek poets. “Thirty thousand copies in the first printing—that equals my bestselling novels, gentlemen.” Opening the book, she flipped through a few pages before catching Lord Waldemere’s attention. “Have you read this, Lord Waldemere?”
“Indeed. Lady Waldemere and I find ourselves gravitating back to those verses each evening since they came into our possession.” He had supported Cathryn’s membership earlier in the meeting, but he’d been alone in his quest. Julian had pressed privately, but the answer was a resounding “no” from each member. As President, he could do no more, especially when the charter said specifically “gentlemen only”.
“Mr. Burns and I, as well.” Melina agreed. “Well, perhaps the public success will be reward enough.” She set the book down and picked up a tome. “Has anyone read this—the Digenis Acritas—other than the charming young men from Oxford?” She walked towards Cathryn, still holding the eight-hundred-page manuscript. “Have you read it, Lady Sibley?”
“Several times, but I was editing it.”
“Of course.” Melina held the thick volume high in the air. “Has anyone else in this room edited a work of this stature?” She slammed the book down on a nearby desk, flooding the room with a judgmental thwack. “She’s the most intelligent, educated, accomplished wordsmith in the room, and you dunderheads are too bound up to acknowledge it.” Melina was fighting mad, her eyes flashing, fists clenched. “Her articles on literacy have inspired thousands to read—she even volunteers to teach reading at the Chelsea poorhouse. Has any one of you done as much?”
Her nostrils flared as uncomfortable silence filled the room. A few men cleared their throats and ladies glared at their mates. Cathryn sank into the settee, wishing she could disappear. Julian appeared to be enjoying the spectacle, grinning like a fool, but Cathryn was mortified. How could they face these men again?
Julian patted her hand before releasing it. “It’s all right, love,” he whispered, rising to his feet. “Thank you, Mrs. Burns.” His voice was strong and clear, with no hint of anger. “I’m sure I speak for all our members in thanking you for that kick in the backside.”
Melina’s wrath flipped, and she flashed a bright smile. “You’re welcome, Mr. President.”
“Yes, I think we are all clear on your sentiments.” He turned to face the room. “I, for one, am proud to have Lady Sibley in my sphere of influence. I know she will improve my scholarly endeavors as she does the rest of my character.” He looked about with a pleasant smile, as if Melina had not just ripped most of them to shreds. “I finally know what it is to have a better half.”
Cathryn beamed at the compliments, and several of her female acquaintances shot her congratulatory looks.
“I suspect many of the gentlemen in this room have an equally high estimation of their own wives and daughters but tell them so only in private.” A ripple passed through the crowd as women and men exchanged meaningful glances. “Gentlemen…and ladies. I must agree with Mrs. Burns. We do ourselves a disservice. Indeed, we do society a disservice, when we ignore the contributions of able women.” His eyes darted from one capable female to the next as he circled the room, and his voice deepened with emotion. “We place every obstacle in their way…deny them access to higher education…treat them as playthings and shackle them with arcane laws that limit their freedoms—making them little more than slaves.” His hands clenched as he spoke, and when he looked at Cathryn, she saw the flame of repressed rage he depended on her to douse. She nodded encouragement and hoped her love showed on her face.
He inhaled deeply before continuing, his voice softer. “And yet, we cherish them and trust them with our hearts and souls.” He smiled at Cathryn, and the others disappeared. From across the room, she felt his connection, and she saw only him—impossibly handsome, brilliantly gallant and as desperately in love with her as she was with him.
He broke his gaze away with an awkward chuckle, and she realized they had made a scene with their public display of attraction. She opened her fan and tried to cool her ardor, terribly inappropriate for this distinguished reception. Julian cleared his throat and turned with a grand sweep of his arm. “We are at a turning point in history, gentlemen, and I, for one, would rather have the ladies on my side as we plunge forward into the industrial revolution we are clearly powerless to keep in check.”
He gave the crowd time to settle, keeping his heavy eyes on Cathryn. “Lady Sibley and I plan to visit Greece in the spring, and after that my new interests relate to…domesticity.” He loved her from across the room in a blatantly sensual manner that should have embarrassed her but didn’t in the slightest. This was her man, and she was proud he claimed her so openly. She wiped away a tear of joy.
As if thinking aloud, he straightened and smoothed his lapels. “I hereby resign my presidency of this fine society, effective…as soon as a replacement is found. It’s been a privilege and an honor having served you.” His sincere smile didn’t falter as he gathered his few papers from the meeting. “If there is no more business for the general membership…” He glanced around at the stunned assembly, leaving Cathryn as astonished as the others. “You’ll have no trouble finding a new president, please send nominations to Lord Waldemere.”
Why is he doing this? Cathryn’s mind was awhirl with this new development. Is he doing this in protest? Or is he doing what he says when we’re alone—that he wants to enjoy our love in relative seclusion for a few years? Julian and children, without the politics of London, without Fiona. That was her deepest desire, and he had done his part. Her chest constricted and she wished her corset looser. In the country, she wo
uld forego the tight style and wear only more comfortable garments.
Waldemere stood and addressed the group. “A round of thanks for Lord Ahlquist. He’s been a fine leader and we wish him, and Lady Sibley, well.” Polite applause broke out among the gentlemen, but the ladies rose in unison and clapped loudly for an unfashionably long period of time. Cathryn looked around and saw tears streaming down the faces of many of the women. She’d thought herself the only one soaking a handkerchief, but it seemed an epidemic. Pandemonium erupted as ladies pushed forward, ignoring their husbands.
Julian looked at her across the crowded room, caressing her with his warm gaze for a long moment before the female stampede hit them both. Cathryn accepted the high-pitched accolades wordlessly, grateful when Julian braved the herd and made his way to her side. He circled her waist and pulled her close.
She turned her head and whispered, “You’ve just earned a great deal more of my love and respect.”
His smile dazzled her, and she wished them back in the baths. “It’s a fine goal to have. Makes my decisions much easier.”
She melted into him, ignoring the clamor that surrounded them. He was her shelter in the storm of life. United, they would realize both their dreams.
A kiss was out of the question in this milieu, but she nuzzled her head on his shoulder, raised her face and murred her contentment.
He returned the sound as he pulled her even closer. “Perhaps I’ll write a novel of my own, so I can use that word in print.”
The end.
About Marilyn Kelly
Marilyn Kelly writes super-strong women, which is no surprise. With five brothers, her theme song growing up was Anything They Can Do, I Can Do Better! She’s traveled the world, visited over 40 countries and lived in three, earned a Master’s in Microbiology, obtained a patent, and trained thousands of emergency responders internationally. Her creative side constantly knocked, and she beaded, faux painted and entertained as a wedding DJ on weekends for years. In 2007 she started writing super sexy historical romances and her college sweetheart husband jumped in, helping her with research. Her goal is to make thousands of readers happy and fulfilled. Please let her know if she’s succeeded.
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