“Really?” she said, arrested a moment in shock. “When was the first time you did that?” She resumed stroking him.
“The day we went to Kegworth. I first noticed your breasts the night before when we played cards with the dowager and Lady Ava. Do you remember that evening?”
“Yes.” She stroked him steadily, and he began moving his hips into her hand.
“You were wearing a little seed pearl brooch in the middle of your bosom. Your gown was so modest, not a skerrick of flesh anywhere, but the cloth of the bodice clung to your shape. I couldn’t take my damned eyes off your breasts. They haunted me. I was obsessed with them. And I couldn’t stop wondering what they looked like, would feel and taste like. Now I know.” He moved a little closer and dropped his head, pushing her back against the pillows, so he could get to her breasts.
“I don’t think I’m ever going to get enough of them,” he said, opening his mouth over her nipple and engulfing as much of her breast as he could. Beneath him, she arched up into his touch and reminded herself to continue stroking his cock with her hand while he moved his hips.
He let the nipple slip from his mouth with a soft moan. “You’re going to drive me to madness if you fall pregnant. They’ll get much bigger and more sensitive.” he said hoarsely.
She jerked at the mention of pregnancy. “You want more children?” she asked, slightly breathless.
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I? You’d make a wonderful mother—you already do. Watching you with Ewen and the girls...” He sighed, closing his eyes, and thrust into her hand with more determination. After a few moments he said hoarsely, “Do you mind if I finish inside you?”
“N-no,” she stammered, her body pulsing at the notion.
“Good, I’m feeling quite wolfish today.” He nudged her legs apart and settled between her legs. His fingers traced along her channel and then thrust inside firmly. She gasped.
“Good or sore?” he asked quickly.
“G-good,” she said.
“You’re wet enough,” he muttered. “Are you sure?” He moved his cock to her entrance but stayed his thrust.
“Yes,” she said, quite breathless. Her body was pulsing, the ache deep inside gnawing at her. If he was feeling wolfish, she was feeling wanton and deeply needy.
He pushed forward hard and groaned as he sank all the way into her, driving a reciprocal groan from her.
He rolled onto his side dragging her with him and hitched her leg over his hip and arm, his hand resting on her rump, where it squeezed in involuntary rhythm with his thrusts. This position was different, the angle catching her in more of the places that felt good. He kissed her, using his tongue deeply.
The hand on her rump slid lower, and she felt his fingers stroking between her legs from behind, touching her where his cock slid in and out of her. The sensations were so unexpected and naughty, her flesh throbbed, and a pleasurable rush began to build. She pressed closer, her hips moving with involuntary passion in time with his. She whimpered and moaned into his mouth as he thrust harder and deeper. His other arm crushing her against him.
The pleasure burst in a shower of sparks and throbs, and he groaned loudly, his thrusting becoming jagged as she felt the hot rush once again of his seed inside her. He held her tight against him as the spasm shuddered through his body and he grunted and moaned with it. “Annis! Annis!” He let out a breath and sighed, going gradually limp.
They lay in mutual silence in each other’s arms for several minutes after that. Eventually he stirred enough to say, “I hopethat will stay my appetite sufficiently so that I can behave with decorum today, but I wouldn’t guarantee it. Prepare to be ravished behind a curtain at unexpected moments,” he said with a smile.
She laughed which made his softening flesh retreat. They separated slowly with little kisses.
“Shall I call for a bath?” he asked.
“Oh, that sounds heavenly,” she said, realizing with a shock that she could have as many baths as she chose now. The change in her status was going to take a bit of getting used to.
*
Emrys washed andshaved in the hot water brought by the servants and left his wife to her bath while he disappeared into the dressing room attached to their new bedchamber to let his long-suffering valet dress him. He would need to organize a maid for her and give her an allowance to buy clothes. He wasn’t the kind of man to take much notice of what women wore, but even he knew her old wardrobe wasn’t going to be suitable for her new title.
As he wrestled with his cravat—drat, I hate the bloody things—he reflected with satisfaction on his second wedding night. A great deal better than his first, which had ended disastrously with his new bride in tears and himself feeling like the biggest monster in creation. Not that he had meant to hurt her, of course, but his inexperience and her lack of knowledge—no one had told her what to expect!—had presaged an encounter that left her a little sore and disappointed and him dismayed and embarrassed. He had made it up to her and thought all was well, but with hindsight he wondered. In any case, he was decidedly more confident that Annis had derived almost as much pleasure from the night and morning’s activities as he had.
Finally satisfied with his neckcloth, he combed his unruly hair and realized that there was something more than pleasure he had taken from the experience: comfort. Comfort, a warm feeling in his chest and belly. Annis gave him comfort. It was a shock after months of depression to realize he actually felt happy.
Happier than he had felt in a very long time. With the perspective of hindsight, he realized that well before Caro’s betrayal and death he had not actually been happy. He thought he was, he thought he was content. He knew life wasn’t a constant state of bliss, but he thought he was happy. The truth was the youthful love he had shared with Caro had withered slowly and silently on the vine of marital decay. He had still loved her, but she had not loved him. And the woman he thought she was had become largely a figment of his imagination. He hadn’t really known her.
How all this had happened he still wasn’t sure; except he knew he hadn’t paid enough attention. He hadn’t tried hard enough to be the husband she needed. He’d let her down and hurt her. All unknowingly, all unintentionally. But he could not afford to make the same mistakes again, not with Annis.
Chapter Nineteen
Appearing downstairs asthe newly minted viscountess made Annis feel odd.
