Page 77 of The Favourite

“Because”—she looked evasive—“you wanted to see me wear them, did you not?”

He cupped her face, lowering his brow to hers. “Jane, these twin topazes here are the ones I desired most of all. They surpass those poor stones by far.”

Jane’s breathing hitched. She whimpered. She was in a bad way. Thank gods it wasn’t just him.

“Jane, I really need you to kiss me,” he admitted throatily, “this time with your tongue. Will you?”

She nodded, and he expelled a noisy breath, lowering his face to hers. This time, Jane wrapped her arms a little too tightly around his neck. Her clumsiness when it came to caresses undid him in all kinds of ways. When she pressed her lips to his, he found it didn’t matter anyway, because he could not possibly get close enough and that was before her tongue crept into his mouth and stole all sense and reason from him.

Her kiss went from sweetly tentative to cautiously exploratory. He was half in disbelief that Jane was finally kissing him like this, naked beneath him. He could not get enough of the sweet taste of her. He was moving against her now; he could not help himself. Her belly and hips were delightfully soft and yielding against him, but they were not the spot he cravedwith increasing urgency.

Open your legs, Jane, was what he ought to say, but by this point, she was kissing him with such abandon that he could not possibly lift his mouth from hers to utter them. It was only when she parted her legs beneath him that he realized he must have voiced his desire aloud.

“Like this?” she asked raggedly, her breath tickling his cheek.

“Lift your knees.” She did so and Alisander had to catch his breath and squeeze his eyes shut against the sight and feel of her. If he wasn’t careful here, he would spend with disgraceful enthusiasm against his wife’s stomach.

He cupped her between her legs, stroking a thumb through those intriguing pale curls. “I hope you’re as wet as last time, Jane,” he whispered. “I’ll be so disappointed if you’re not.” She made no reply, apart from a hitch in her breathing.

Deciding on a quick change of position, he sat back on the bed and dragged Jane’s thighs over his own, splaying them wide. Jane’s eyes widened, but she made no objection to the lewd position. It trembled on his lips to make reference to her aunt’s letter, but he had probably pushed her far enough on this second encounter.

“Shhh,” he said, though she had not uttered a single word. “Relax, Jane.” He traced the intriguing slit between her legs over and over a moment before dipping his thumb inside and pressing it firmly to her pearl.

“Ohhhhh!” Jane yelled, jolting violently. She would have shot off the bed if he had not held her in a firm grip. Was she …? Already?

He slid two fingers deep and felt her warm sheath clenching and pulsing around him. “Jane,” he tutted, rubbing her clitoris with the pad of his thumb as she sobbed and struggled against his plunging fingers. “This is a terrible breach in etiquette, my darling. I had meant to bring you to pleasure myself, and here you are, taking it for yourself, and so greedily too.”

Her arms fell from his shoulders, and he thought for a minute she would try and deny it. Then he saw the unfocussed look in her eyes which were glazed with desire. It was too bad of him to tease her even at a moment like this, he thought as she whined and arched her back. But he loved it so.

“A-Alisander,” she whimpered, her eyes unfocussed and glazed with desire. She scrabbled around with her hands in the bedsheets.

“No, Jane.” He frowned. “Hands on me, if you please.”

Her hands clapped to his thighs, her fingers kneading and clutching him there as she came apart so completely that he was entranced. Jane was a blubbering mess when she came. He bit his tongue. Gods, how had he known deep down that Jane would be like this?

He stayed where he was, breathing raggedly as he waited for Jane to recover. He dared not even palm his cock which was paining him at this point. He would be lucky if he got it in her before he reached crisis point.

After a few moments, Jane’s tear-streaked face blinked up at him. He felt a terrible pang of tenderness overtake him. It was strange to feel conflictingly tender when lust was riding him so hard. What was it about her that affected him so strangely?

“Jane,” he whispered, “my sweet dove, are you yet living?” She was so sated, she did not even speak, just nodded, her cheeks very red and her eyes very blue. “I need to—er—come inside now,” he said. Fortunately, she was beyond taking exception to his awkward phrasing. She let her legs fall open wider, and suddenly, he was the one unraveling

Gods,” he muttered, clambering over her. “This may lack finesse.” He notched his cock against her damp cleft. There was no “may” about it. He was about to rut her like an uncouth lout. He wanted to set her on her hands and knees, but that was no way to take your virgin bride. Besides, by this point, Jane was limp as a rag, bless her.

He surged forward with a muffled grunt and found himself thrusting home. Jane slapped her hands to his sides, uttering a sound of faint protest. He managed to pause proceedings, his vision wavering before his eyes. “Shall I stop?” he ground out.

Jane considered a moment. She looked, for a moment, undecided. Then she shook her head. “No.”

“Sure?” Again, he was not sure why he was pushing it, but for some reason, he could not do otherwise where she was concerned.

“Quite sure.”

Always so polite. He caught hold of her behind her knee and spread her wider, then thrust into her with merry abandon. He could not feign indifference or elegance or anything but unbridled enthusiasm at this point. Jane, Jane, Jane. Her name pounded through his brain, in time with his thrusts. Gods, he hoped he was not chanting it out loud. He could not be sure.

He just needed to keep hold of the reins until he’d cleared the first fence. Then he could let go and tumble headfirst into oblivion. For the sake of his own pride, he just had to hang on for the tiniest bit longer. Mayhap he could stave off his bliss a while if he pretended it was anyone other than her spread out beneath him, wet and willing and taking his thrusts?

His mind rebelled at the very idea. It was none other than Jane, and no one else would do. He was sure that no one else’s pussy could feel so very right stretched around his cock. At this point, he made a tactical error and locked eyes with her. In a trice, it was all over, and he was lost.

He gave a low groan and dropped his brow to hers. Instead of rolling off her, as good manners would dictate, he slumped on top of her like the worst kind of brute. When she failed to call him to order, he remained where he was catching his breath. He was still in a pleasant trance when the knock sounded on the door.