Page 61 of The Best Marquess

Finn swore, clutching her shoulders. “I’m going to come. Pippa…”

But instead of pulling away, his wife sucked greedily, one hand squeezing his length and the other cupping his balls. His eyes crossed in ecstasy, his fists clenched, and with a low roar he came in her mouth, spurting his seed down her throat.

Licking her lips, Pippa sat back on her heels. “Well?”

“You are a goddess,” he murmured, as his brain floated away. “Also, romance novels are the greatest invention in history.”

“I quite agree. Now, my laird, I’m going to have a bath, then after breakfast you’ll be escorting me to Golden Square for a session of nipple clamps and double dildo, yes?”

Finn lay back on the bed and pulled the quilt over his body, a foolish grin near splitting his face.

“Aye, madame.”

“You mustn’t moan so loudly, Pippet. The driver will hear you.”

At Finn’s teasing words, she bit her lip to halt a wail of need. The carriage curtains were open; no doubt everyone in London could see her sitting in his lap, thighs spread wide, her black gown folded up to her waist while his fingers caressed her pussy. But he wouldn’t let her come, wanting to save her orgasms for his inventing room at Golden Square. A quarter hour ago, that had appeared a fair and reasonable plan. Now…not so much.

The only saving grace was the short length of the journey. Any distance longer than a mile and she might have lost her mind completely after being so ruthlessly and expertly prepared to receive the pleasure toys. Finn was a romance novel hero come to life. Well, when he wasn’t teasing her. While her fingers positively itched to delve between her thighs, the previous few times she’d tried to make herself come, release had remained elusive. It seemed her foolish, contrary body now sniffed at self-love, wanting the lusty touch of another.

No, not another. Just Finn. Her husband.

He’d always been important. However now, apparently, she needed him in ways other than friendship, which was quite an intellectual leap. Her wariness remained when it came to sentiment, as had been obvious from her shamefully lukewarm response to his story about the handkerchief. But was it even possible to soften when you had been everyone else’s rock your entire life and had walls a mile thick around your heart?

The carriage hit a small rut on the road, jolting her back to the present and making her cry out as his fingers penetrated her channel half an inch. “Finn…if I don’t come soon…”

He kissed her neck. “Nearly there. Just imagine how good it will feel to have your pussy and arse stuffed full.”

Pippa took several deep breaths, trying to think of anything other than orgasms. Which was nigh-on impossible. The delights of their wedding night felt like they had happened about a century ago; to have that kind of feast and then a famine of even three days was unacceptable. Not to mention, anyone who took a huge cock in their mouth and swallowed seed deserved to scream long and hard.

After approximately one thousand years, the carriage finally pulled up next to the tiny mews behind a pretty townhouse. She couldn’t wait to see inside, especially the room where her husband created pleasure toys.

Finn unfolded her gown, smoothed it, and helped her stand; a welcome gesture for her unsteady legs. Then a footman opened the door and lowered the step, and she alighted onto the footpath.

When he joined her, Pippa turned to Finn and smiled brightly. “To the inventing room!”

He studied her, his lips curving. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like a tour of the premises first? Perhaps some tea and cakes?”

“Do not toy with me, my lord.”

His smirk widened. “Do not? I was under the impression you wanted toys.”

Pippa smacked his shoulder. “It is neither the time nor the place for jests. Your wife needs orgasms.”

“Very well,” said Finn, offering his arm. They walked through the gate and shut it firmly behind them, then continued on up the short path to the back door. A maid opened it and bobbed a curtsy.

“Good morning, my lord. Ma’am. Are you here to visit Miss Abby?”

Unaccountably, Finn tensed. “Is she here? I thought Abby usually went visiting at this time.”

The maid shook her head. “She is next door, visiting Miss Bridget. They often take tea together. Would you like me to go and fetch her?”

“No! Ah…no, thank you. I shall see her next time. My wife and I are going to the inventing room and are not to be disturbed.”

“Yes, my lord.”

As they carried on down the narrow hallway, Pippa sent Finn a curious glance. “Who is Abby?”

“An employee here,” he replied. “The one I told you about, with the little girl. I’m overprotective of her privacy; in the past she has been treated so badly by those around her. But don’t think about her, think about my inventing room. Are you ready to see it?”