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Her pussy spasmed around him, her legs bending and trying to draw him in further as she sobbed out in ecstasy. Making a low, growling noise in the back of his throat, Edwin leaned forward and began to pound into her, hard, fast and mercilessly, knowing that she was aroused enough that she could take it. In fact, Eleanor had started to orgasm almost the moment he'd entered her, stretching her open with the delicious friction of his cock sliding inside of her.
With her wrists tied to the bed, and her lower body in Edwin's complete control, there was nothing she could do but shriek and convulse around him as he ravished her. Her pussy tingled and fizzed as her first climax began to subside, unable to fully dissipate while Edwin was still moving inside of her, his body rubbing against her sensitive swollen lips and the fat bud of her clit.
He was rock hard, a length of steel invading her body, and rubbing over an exquisitely pleasurable spot with every thrust. Eleanor writhed, knowing that he was watching her every shudder, every twist of her body, and she enjoyed it. Knowing that his entire focus was on her was a blissfully satisfying experience, even if the rush of pleasure was becoming almost painful in its intensity.
A second orgasm overtook her as he ground his body against hers, trapping her clit between them and using his pelvis to send waves of ecstasy surging through her. Eleanor cried out, her pussy tightening around the thick rod inside of her, trying to milk it of its seed. Instead, Edwin continued to thrust, hard and deep, making her scream as her body bowed and tried to move beneath him. She tried to press her legs together, but his arms held them too tightly. There were no defenses for her vulnerable pussy as his merciless assault on her most tender spots continued.
She sobbed with relief and release as he groaned and surged, his cock swelling inside of her, throbbing against her inner walls as spurt after spurt of hot seed filled her. Drops of moisture clung to her long lashes as they fluttered, her eyes rolling upwards as the last spasms of pleasure were wrung from her body.
Edwin's forearms kept him from putting his full weight on Eleanor as he released her legs and leaned over her, finding her lips with his. He was careful not to put any pressure against her stomach, although she didn't seem any worse for wear from their vigorous lovemaking. Kissing him back, she made those happy, dreamy sounds that indicated he'd tamed her - for now at least.
Pulling his lips away, he looked down into those sapphire blue eyes that had captured him from the very beginning, even if he hadn't known at the time quite what that had meant.
"I love you, Eleanor," he said, shifting his weight to one arm so that he could cup and caress her cheek, loving the softness of her skin, the submissiveness he felt in her every languid movement. "You're the perfect woman for me, never doubt it."
The happiness shining out of her eyes was unshaded, and he knew that he'd finally found the right words, the ones she’d been waiting to hear.
Chapter 8
Damn his mother and her blasted notions of 'fun' traditions. Scowling into his cup, Wesley contemplated disobeying a direct order from his mother, so that he could at least spend the evening in the company of his bride. Whose bloody awful idea was it to keep the bride and groom apart for the night before the wedding?
He could hear the gaggle of females, even from half a floor away. Another one of his mother's ideas; having Cynthia's friends over to help entertain her the evening before. Or, possibly, just to keep her occupied while his mother attended to all the last minute decisions and tasks that were necessary to any major event. She was absolutely in her element with this wedding nonsense.
Truthfully, he didn't begrudge his mother her fun - he just wished it didn't come at the expense of his own.
If Cynthia had been alone... well, he wouldn't have anticipated the wedding night of course, but they'd already done a few things and he wouldn't be averse to indulging in more of those. After all, there was a certain illicit thrill to engaging in sensual activities with his bride before she was actually his wife.
Growling under his breath, Wesley decided to quit the house and head to Edwin's for the sake of his own sanity. It was only a short carriage ride from here to the house Edwin was renting. An even shorter distance to Alex’s, although he was fairly certain that Alex had joined Hugh at Edwin’s. Nell was here, with Cynthia, Grace and Irene, so the husbands had all gathered at Edwin's. Originally Wesley had intended to stay in his own house, hoping for a chance to see Cynthia at some point - not that he would ever admit the sentiment to anyone - and sneak her off somewhere for a bit of fun.
If they'd been in London, he would have indulged in the expected stag night, although he privately admitted to himself that he would have still preferred to try and debauch his bride a little further rather than sit in some smoky den with women who didn't actually interest him and a host of other drunken men. Although, considering his closest friends were now all happily married, it was distinctly possibly that there wouldn't have been any loose women at his stag night anyway. Which would have been fine with him. The only loose woman he was interested in was Cynthia, and the damned wench had better only be loose with him.
He'd been hoping to get a little stag night celebration with her, but it seemed like she was doing just bloody fine without him.
Another peal of feminine laughter rang down the hallway.
Tossing back the remains of his drink, Wesley swallowed, ignoring the burn in his throat, and slammed the glass down on the table next to him. Enough was enough. Bounding up and into the hall, he stalked towards the front of the house, resigned to the fate of becoming just like his friends, patiently waiting for their wives to come home. Although at least they could look forward to warm bodies in their beds tonight, unlike him.
Well, perhaps Alex might be sympathetic. The man had been as quiet as ever when it came to discussing what was going on between him and his wife. Maybe Wesley wasn't alone when it came to an empty bed.
******
Despite the concerns that had nagged her all day, Grace was thoroughly enjoying herself. She'd hoped to be able to sneak into Alex's study and go through his things, to find some clue as to his desire for a reconciliation, but he'd been in the blasted room all day. In fact, he'd still been in it when she'd left the house to come to Cynthia's.
The atmosphere with the other three women was so relaxed that she could almost forget the tension that seemed to dog her every waking hour. Although the Countess had greeted them upon their arrival, she'd quickly excused herself to go attend to other matters, leaving the younger women to their own devices. Dressed in their less formal gowns, they'd sipped sherry (probably a bit more than was wise, and Eleanor had had weak tea because her stomach was feeling unsettled), eaten chocolate and given Cynthia all sorts of interesting marriage advice. Discussion and celebration of Eleanor’s pregnancy, once she confided the news to them, had led to a discussion of intimate bedroom proceedings.
Grace was actually learning quite a bit.
Especially when Cynthia had told them about using her mouth on the Earl.
"Your mouth?" she said, shocked. Not just from the stunning visual, but from the very idea of it.
"Yes," Cynthia said, looking at her curiously. "You mean, you've never?"
; Shaking her head, Grace fought back a blush as she tried not to contemplate the idea. When she glanced at Eleanor in an appeal for help, she was surprised to see her friend's cheeks turn pink as well.
"Really?" Irene's astonishment was just too much for them to handle, as she asked the question in a kind of superior surprise. All three of them turned to look at the redhead, whom they’d all considered a bit of a prude, shocked at her nonchalance. She looked back at them, as primly as she always did. "What? Is it an unusual thing to do?"
