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Together, they hold each other.
Own each other.
“Oh, Maxim. I love you,” she whispers. “More than you’ll ever know.”
“I do know.”
But her love, her gratitude, her desire can’t wait for long. “I want you,” she whispers, reaching for Maxim’s sweater and tugging it over his head. She jerks his shirt out of his jeans and starts to undo the buttons.
* * *
I stand as placidly as I can, given I want to jump my wife.
Now.
And I let her undress me. She’s as driven by her longing as I am. My fingers are itching to undress her, but I’m happy to stoke the heat in my blood just watching her.
She slips her hand into the waistband of my jeans and undoes the button.
“Your turn,” I say, halting her, and I sweep off her sweater. Then I kneel at her feet, slipping her boots off one by one and peeling off her socks. I stand, and under her unremitting gaze, I remove my shoes and socks.
There. Ready.
So ready.
“Take your jeans off. Now,” I whisper.
Alessia gasps, and with her darkening eyes on mine, she steps back, slowly undoes her jeans, and lowers the fly at a glacial speed.
Tease!
Then she shimmies, swinging her fine arse to and fro, tugging her jeans down and stepping out of them.
My beautiful wife stands before me in a pretty lacy bra and panties.
And I take a moment to admire the fucking view.
She is gorgeous.
She reaches behind her back, undoes her bra, tosses it at me, and laughs when I catch it. Then she shimmies out of her panties.
“You are so beautiful, Alessia.”
“Now you,” she says with an imperious look that’s hot as hell.
“Yes. My lady.” I make quick work of my jeans and underwear, so my ready, ready dick springs free, enthusiastic for her.
Alessia smirks and steps forward, taking me in hand.
It’s my turn to gasp.
Her fingers are cold!
“Ah!”
Alessia laughs, and I join her. “Enough!” I grab her around the waist and lift her. “Wrap your legs around me, baby.” She obliges, and holding her, I walk to our bed and lower us onto it, so I’m lying cradled between her thighs.
“First time. As man and wife. Here,” I whisper, suddenly beset by a sense of history or legacy or something that’s more than the two of us. She gazes at me and gently pushes my hair off my forehead.
“Husband,” she whispers, and the word echoes in my groin.
Fuck.
I want to be inside her. I run a hand down her body, skimming her nipple, so it stands to sweet attention, and continue, my hand celebrating the dips and shallows of her skin down to her belly and over her sex. Slowly, I insert a finger into her warm, welcoming wetness, and her hips rise, meeting my finger, and pushing against my hand, wanting relief.
Oh, baby.
I withdraw my finger and slowly ease myself into her and take her mouth with mine, my tongue mirroring my cock. Her body rises to meet mine, and she wraps her arms and legs around me. Holding me fast. It’s intoxicating.
And I can resist no more.
And start to move.
Hard.
Swift.
Claiming the woman who is my wife.
Taking her higher as her nails etch my back.
Vaguely, as I lose myself in her, I hope she leaves marks on me.
I’m hers.
She’s mine.
For all time.
“Maxim,” she cries as she comes, and I let go, finding release inside the only woman I’ve ever truly loved.
My wife.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Alessia takes a break from practising her audition pieces and watches Maxim from the mullioned windows of the great music room. He’s trudging up the driveway with Michael, the estate manager. Maxim is dressed in his long coat and wellingtons, holding what looks like a walking staff as he paces the ground. They are deep in discussion, probably about the still, Maxim’s passion project. He’s excited to get it up and running.
Behind him, Healey and Jensen are bouncing along the lane, stopping to sniff and mark their territory like dogs do. Even from here, Alessia can tell that the dogs are delighted to be with her husband. They adore him.
Like she adores him.
Maxim and Michael laugh at something Michael says, and it warms Alessia’s heart to see him so happy. This is where Maxim belongs. He looks every centimeter the lord of the manor and so much more relaxed here in Cornwall than in London. And who could blame him? The pace of life is easier, and it reminds her more and more of her homeland.
In the pasture beside them, the deer congregate around the water trough. Maxim stops to admire the herd with Michael.
Alessia is distracted by the sound of footsteps. “Ah, what a pleasure it is to listen to you play, my lady,” Danny says. “I’ve brought you some refreshment.” She places a tray with a small coffeepot, cup, and saucer on the console table beside her.
