Page 22 of An Earl, His Valet, & Their Wife

Soon she near-writhed on the bed as her husband studiously teased and lapped and suckled her nipples. At one point he even scraped the jutting peaks with his teeth and her fingers clenched the bedsheets in pure delight. But then his hand ventured down over her stomach, parted her nether curls, and circled her swollen clitoris. “Here?”

Katherine gasped at the jolt of sensation. “Please!”

However, Michael paused and glanced up at his valet. “Tell me what to do.”

Never had Mr. Hunter looked sterner. “Lick it. Gently now, ’tis verra sensitive.”

At the first tentative touch of Michael’s tongue to the throbbing bud, Katherine cried out, her hips bucking. “There.”

“Curl your arms around her ladyship’s thighs,” continued the valet, his tone rougher. Harsher. “Dinnae allow movement, make her take it. Drink up all that sweet cunt honey.”

It was almost too much, the filthy words, the light restraint, the increasingly feverish and oh-so-good licking of her clitoris and labia. Katherine panted, her head thrashing. “I need…oh God, I need to be filled. Take me.”

Michael lifted his head, his lips glistening, his eyes wild and face strained. “May I? Please, my cock aches terribly…”

“Nae,” growled Mr. Hunter. “Suck Katie’s clitoris. Thrust your tongue inside her. Like a cock. Immediately.”

Katherine moaned, her back arching at the pressure of Michael’s lips on her bud, her mind turning foggy at the dexterity of his tongue. “Don’t stop…please don’t stop…”

“Christ,” Michael mumbled, “I didn’t know pussy could taste so good.”

“’Tis a verra fine feast,” said Mr. Hunter unsteadily. “But your wife needs tae come. Katie, use his mouth and chin. Rub that greedy cunt against him ’til his face is covered in honey.”

Sobbing for breath, she reached down and gripped Michael’s hair to force him closer, grinding against his face as something momentous, something untamable built and built inside her. But when her free hand was clasped, joining her with Mr. Hunter as well, Katherine screamed as she tumbled over the edge into ecstasy.

“Now, mo chridhe,” snarled Mr. Hunter. “Fuck her hard.”

Even as her core still spasmed, Michael scrambled up the bed, fitting his erect cock to her soaked pussy and burying it deep. His thrusts had no finesse, no rhythm, yet somehow the raw, urgent penetration was exactly what she needed.

Wrapping her legs around his flanks, Katherine held him close as her inner walls clamped around his cock. “Come, husband.”

Michael groaned, flooding her with hot seed. The sensation set her off again, waves of endless pleasure that provoked a cry of joy.

The rumors were true.

Banshee wails were indeed possible in the marital bedchamber, and now there was a whole new world to explore.

CHAPTER 5

“Darling! What an unexpected surprise. You should have told me you were coming to visit…”

Michael sighed as he leaned against the mossy, cream brick garden wall and studied his mother. The woman was valiantly pretending she’d not just been caught blatantly disregarding the physician’s instructions, but her cheeks were flushed a particular shade: guilt-red. “You are supposed to be resting, not gardening.”

Barbara Uffingdon pushed back her straw bonnet and smoothed the apron covering her simple gown, then removed the cotton gloves protecting her hands. “I’m not gardening. Merely kneeling on a cushion and admiring my shrubs. If a few small weeds happen to remove themselves from the soil, that is just a happy coincidence.”

“Mother.”

“Whitmore. You are as bad as Uffy. It’s not like I’m plowing a field.”

“Where is my stepfather? Barricaded in his library, muttering about disobedient wives?”

She beamed. “He was driving me quite batty, so I shooed him off to his club for an hour or so. I really do feel much better. My spirits are always lifted in this garden.”

“Will you at least stop for some lemonade?” he asked, brandishing the chilled bottle that Uffy’s cook had provided. As Gunter’s was just a short walk across Berkeley Square, they often purchased ice not required by the famous tea shop, then packed it into a small walled pit in the cellar. Few things were as refreshing as the cold, tart lemon drink.

His mother’s smile turned distinctly cunning. “That depends. You’re now, what, nearly a week into married life? I wish to know how matters are progressing with dear Katherine. And Hunter, of course.”

Michael’s own cheeks grew warm. At Ellis House they’d all been so busy; him with estate correspondence, Gerry arranging construction of bookshelves and ball planning, and Katherine learning chatelaine duties with the assistance of her new maid, Molly, and Mrs. Calder, that two full days had passed since that explosive, passionate joining in Katherine’s bed. He’d not wanted to turn into a beast ravishing her at every turn, so had forced himself to stay away, especially if she was a little sore. But he couldn’t hold out much longer. He needed the taste of Katherine’s pussy in his mouth again. To hear her moans as he followed Gerry’s commands, to feel the tight, hot clasp of her channel around his cock as he filled her with seed.