Page 60 of The Best Marquess

“That depends…” his voice trailed off at a brisk knock, and shortly afterward two footmen walked in carrying the copper tub, followed by several maids carrying full buckets of steaming hot water. They set it up in the usual place behind an embroidered bathing screen, filled the tub, then left the chamber.

“Depends on what?” said Pippa huskily.

“On the quality of the bath you are about to give me. I should add, today is going to be nothing but amusement. No talk of grandmothers, cretin lords and politicians, or newly inherited titles. With that in mind, let me tell you of my newest Bliss creation. It is a wicked little toy that ties around the waist and fills pussy and arse at the same time. I wanted to see if you could walk in it.”

She quivered. “Please let me try that. And, er…I’ve always wanted to know what clamps feel like.”

“Nipple clamps?” Finn asked, as if the business sold another kind. “It would have to be an exceptional bath.”

“I’m willing to try my very best. I shall have to, judging by the feather imprint on your forehead, the ink stains on your fingers, and that tuft of hair that is poking up like a quail,” Pippa replied pertly, her nightgown swirling around her ankles as she got out of bed.

He pulled her close, grinding his hardening cock against her pussy. “That saucy tongue again, lady wife. Perhaps you might consider putting it to a different use.”

She whimpered, tilting her hips so he rubbed directly against her clitoris. “Like…kissing your cock? Taking it in my mouth?”

Finn gulped, desperately willing himself not to come and ruin his trousers forever. She was just so warm and sleep-soft, and if he tugged the ribbon of her nightgown and pushed open the bodice, he would see the pretty pink nipples currently tenting the fabric. But better than that, his wife was just so eager and curious and blunt about sexual matters. He loved the way he could use the filthiest words in front of her, then hear them in return.

“Yes. But you’ll need to be my valet again.”

“It would be a singular honor, my lord husband.”

As soon as he was naked, Finn sank into the hot bath with a heartfelt groan. Sleeping at one’s desk was foolish in the extreme. Then Pippa filled a porcelain jug with water and poured it over his chest, before washing him with a bar of herbal soap and a washcloth.

This, on the other hand, was quite, quite excellent.

“I think,” he said lazily, “you need to open your bodice so I can see those perfect breasts of yours.”

“Really? Why is that?” she enquired, picking up a nail brush and scrubbing at his ink-stained fingers.

“How else am I to judge which size clamps to use on your nipples?”

Pippa’s lips twitched, but when she’d finished cleaning his hand, she loosened the ribbons and pushed aside the bodice of both her nightgown and chemise, teasing him with glimpses of her taut pink nipples. Then she moved onto washing his back, leaning over him, and Finn couldn’t resist circling both peaks with a wet finger before giving each a brief pinch.

His wife shivered, her breath catching. “You’d better be taking measurements.”

“I’m not sure. The bath is only half complete. I may be sparkling clean, but I still require drying.”

She helped him to his feet, pausing while the water sluiced from his body, then he stepped out of the bath so she could dry him with a linen towel. Pippa first wiped her spectacles free of the fine mist that covered the lenses, but soon the rough material rasped against the backs of his calves and thighs. Finn’s cock rose, throbbing with need. He didn’t say a word, just lifted his arms and turned slightly so Pippa could dry every inch of him. She was thorough, but gentle as she tended to his cock last of all.

“What must I do now?” she asked, her blue eyes glittering with excitement.

Finn led her back to the bed, and perched upon the edge, briefly caressing her cheek. “Kneel down.”

Pippa sank to her knees in front of him, peering at his length over her spectacles with intense concentration, then she carefully took his cock in hand. Already the thick shaft was stone-hard, the head swollen and darker in color, and damp with drops of pearly moisture.

Extending her tongue, she lapped at the head. “Hmmm,” she said, frowning. “Another thing nobody tells you, the taste of seed is…just as earthy as the scent. A bit salty even. I’m not sure if I like it or not. Perhaps I should sample some more to help me make up my mind.”

Finn groaned at the exquisite sensation, his fingers tangling in her hair as she dragged her tongue around the head and up the length of him, all the way to the coarse hair at his groin. Then she stroked his heavy balls with just her fingertip, and he groaned again. “Pippet.”

Pippa paused. “You know,” she said seriously. “It’s rather interesting that I am kneeling, required to kiss my husband’s cock to gain a reward…and yet I feel so powerful right now. Like the Frenchwoman. She obeyed the laird, but never lost herself, only gained pleasure.”

“That is how it should be.”

“Mmmm,” she replied, holding his gaze as she took the head of his cock in her mouth and lightly sucked.

Christ.

Not only did it feel incredible, it was the most carnal thing he’d ever seen. His wife in her spectacles, modest nightgown gaping open to expose her hard nipples, struggling to take his engorged cock deeper in her mouth. But she kept trying, all while fluttering her tongue on the underside just like their favorite Frenchwoman did when pleasuring her laird.