Chapter Ten
I t had been an entire month of pure, unadulterated torture.
Matthew stared at the draft of Fortuity’s story, unable to concentrate on a single blasted word of it. Fortuity’s mouthwatering scent, the heady fragrance of lilacs, books, and a delectable woman who continued to evade him at every turn filled the air of her office. How the devil had he failed to convince her to not only open her heart but her bedchamber as well? They should’ve been a happily, consummated married couple by now. A disgruntled huff escaped him.
She turned from the window streaked with the incessant April showers. “And what does that mean?”
“What?”
“When you blow air like a horse determined to snot on its groom, it cannot be anything good. What do you disagree with about those chapters? You claimed two publishers found the first sample of the book intriguing. Do these not follow up well with what you already gave them?”
He tossed the pages onto the sofa beside him and rubbed his tired, gritty eyes. “I assure you my horse-snotting sound was not directed at your prose.”
She arched a brow at him and meandered closer. “Are we fractious today?”
“We are when we are spoken to as if we are a child.”
Scooping up the pages he had set aside, she settled down beside him and tucked her arms in a prim fold high across her middle. He hated it when she did that. It plumped her breasts, causing them to round ever so temptingly above the neckline of her gown. She didn’t say a word, just eyed him, waiting for him to open his mouth and make a fool of himself yet again.
His plot to draw out the process of getting her book published so he might spend more time with her was killing him. Literally. He ate little and slept less than that because of his all-consuming need to win his own damn wife. At night, he swore he could hear her breathing in the next room, even though the door separating them remained tightly closed. And her alluring scent came to him wherever he went, taunting him with that which he could not have.
“How many of the changes I suggested did you make?” he asked abruptly.
She raised both eyebrows as if unable to believe he dared to ask that. “I gave you those pages an hour ago. Have you read none of it?”
“How many of the changes I suggested did you make?” he repeated, refusing to admit to anything.
Defiantly tipping her chin higher, she glared straight ahead. “One.”
“One?”
She shrugged and made a face. “You were correct about the scones, but how was I to know? Felicity is the one who loves cooking. Not me.”
Trying to keep his gaze off the rise and fall of her bosoms with her every breath, he shifted on the sofa to conceal a certain part of his anatomy that had hardened with interest as soon as she settled beside him. “What about the kiss?”
Her sideways glare cut through him. “What about it?”
“We agreed they would kiss by now.” He pulled in a deep breath but was careful not to snort it out like a horse. “While I understand you do not wish to mirror John Cleland’s Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure , your book, your romance , will be more popular if there is a bit of daring behavior in it, shall we say? Not so much as to have you arrested for obscenity, as he was, but just enough to titillate your readers.” Her increased blush gave him a bit of hope. “Have you read that book yet? As I suggested?” He had purposely given her a copy of the scandalous story about Fanny Hill, hoping to stoke the flames of her desires.
She cleared her throat and stared straight ahead. “I have perused it,” she said with a strained squeak.
“And did you find it informative?”
She cleared her throat again. “Quite.”
He reached over and plucked the papers out of her hand. “Show me where you added the kiss.”
Her glare shifted to him and hardened, matching the irritated flexing of her jaw. “I have yet to add it. Do you not feel more tension between the two is needed before they kiss?”
“No, I do not.” He tossed the pages onto the table in front of them. “I think the gentleman should sweep the lady into his arms and kiss her.” He moved closer, unable to hold himself back any longer. “How would you write the kiss, my little wren? Describe it to me.”
The longing in her eyes betrayed her as she wet her lips. “Since our lady is young and inexperienced, I would describe her as not only excited by his approach but also worried. Perhaps even a little afraid.”
He stretched his arm across the back of the sofa and teased his fingertips into the tumble of her silky curls resting on her nape, then grazed the softness of her skin and made her shudder. “Why would she be worried and afraid? She knows him, loves him. Does she not trust him?”
She wet her barely parted lips again. “Perhaps she fears disappointing him with her na?veté.”
“Nay,” he said softly. “He adores her and is excited that no one else has ever touched her.”
“Does he?” she whispered.
“He does.” He brushed the backs of his fingers along her jawline. “Does she long to taste him as he yearns to taste her?”
She closed her eyes and hitched in a nervous breath. “She does indeed.” Then her eyes flew open, and she jumped up and hurried back to her post by the window. “I shall try to write the scene now, then you may review it, and tell me your opinion.”
Her frown at the papers remaining on the table urged him on. He scooped them up and went to her, but rather than put them in her hand, he held them behind his back. “I know how you feel about research from the drawers full of detailed notes from Society’s parties and balls. Do you not believe you would benefit from firsthand research regarding a kiss?”
She backed up a step and bumped into the window ledge. “I have seen couples embrace and kiss.”
“Seeing is not the same as feeling,” he said, before cupping her cheek and sliding his fingers deeper into her hair. “Do you not wish to feel ?” He leaned in until the softness of her mouth was almost his. “May I show you?”
“I… Uhm…”
“You what , my little wren?”
“I do not think this wise.”
“All in the name of research,” he whispered as he barely brushed his lips across hers, reveling in their warm softness.
“Research,” she repeated as she rested a hand on his chest and touched his cheek with the other. “Research is often essential.”
“Indeed, it is.” He pressed closer and kissed her gently, giving her time to push him away if she wished. Never would he force anything on her.
To his delight, she didn’t push away. Instead, she leaned in and opened to him with an urgency that almost made him groan. He dropped the pages and slipped his arms around her, cradling her ever tighter. Her welcoming mouth, her tongue dancing with his, the way she pressed against him made him reel with the need to lower her to the floor and show her the height and depth of the pleasures they could enjoy together.
She clutched him closer, digging her fingers into his back as if she would rip his clothes away if given half the chance. Then, without warning, she pushed back and turned her face aside. “Matthew,” she said in a breathless whisper. “That is quite enough research.”
He wanted to throw his head back and roar his frustration to the world, but he didn’t. “Fortuity.”
With the back of her hand pressed to her mouth, she stole a glance at him, as if afraid of what he might say.
“Please be my wife in every sense of the word. I need you, Fortuity.”
Eyes wild and chest heaving, she remained silent, her gaze locked with his.
“You are mine, my little wren, as I am yours. Surely you know by now that I truly love you?”
“You do not mean that,” she whispered, her eyes suddenly glistening with tears. “You cannot possibly mean that.”
He slowly shook his head, unable to understand why she refused to believe him. “Tell me why you think that. In our month of marriage, have I done anything to make you believe I do not want this union to be real? That I do not wish to be a true husband to you in every sense of the word?”
She pressed her lips together and gave a quick shake of her head, looking away to avoid meeting his gaze.
“I was a damned fool, Fortuity. A lazy, damned fool.” He gently turned her face back to his, willing her to hear the words of his heart. “I adored being with you so much that I grew not only complacent but feared if I made the mistake of making myself vulnerable once again that I would regret it.” He huffed a soft, mirthless laugh. “If you hurt me, my little wren, I could not survive it, for I have found more joy and contentment with you than I ever knew existed. Baser needs are easy to satisfy, but what you give me is priceless and rare. If I ever lost it, I know it would be my undoing.”
She trembled with hitching little gasps. “I should write that down,” she whispered. “That was marvelous, my lord. ”
“Do you remember what I told you I was going to do the next time you addressed me as my lord ?”
She pressed closer, slid her hands up his chest, and buried her fingers in his hair. With an intense look deep into his eyes, she nodded. “I do indeed, my lord. ”
He crushed his mouth to hers, backed her up, and pinned her against the wall. Her heartbeat pounded against him through their layers of clothing. After thoroughly plundering her with the promised kiss, he lifted his head. “I am a man of my word.”
Running her hands up inside his jacket, then undoing his cravat with amazing speed, she smiled up at him. “I am glad you are a man of your word.” She stretched and nibbled kisses along his throat, making him groan. “I read about doing this in one of Serendipity’s books she always kept hidden from Mama. Is it true what they said about it?”
“What did they say?” Another groan escaped him as he returned the favor and kissed a trail down the curve of her neck to her shoulder as he made quick work of the buttons and ties at the back of her dress.
“Oh my. It is true what they say.” The warmth of her breath tickled his throat. “I find it most…stirring.”
“Indeed.” Struggling to control the urge to rip away her gown, he gently worked it off her shoulders and pushed it to the floor.
“You have me at a disadvantage.” She tugged at his jacket while attempting a sternness that failed.
He shed his jacket and waistcoat, then ever so slowly turned her and untied her stays. Her corset soon hit the floor and joined the gown puddled at her feet, leaving her in nothing but her chemise, stockings, and slippers.
“I suppose it is too late to ask this now, but…” She eyed him with her bottom lip caught between her teeth, almost cringing.
“What, my darling?” Gads, if she stopped him now, his bollocks and member would surely incur permanent damage.
“Will you be able to dress me as easily as you have relieved me of my clothes?” She tipped her head at the door and arched her brows higher. “I am not comfortable with the prospect of having to summon Anne to my office to dress me. The servants will know what we…” She bounced a sterner nod at him. “You know what I am saying.”
“I do.” He stretched and secured the door’s latch. “Thank you for reminding me to lock the door, because I do not wish us to be interrupted.”
She narrowed her eyes as if threatening to deny him.
“Yes, my darling. I can dress you.” He took her by the hand, led her back to the settee, swept her up into his arms, and then gently deposited her upon it. “But let us finish undressing you first. I have longed to enjoy the completeness of your beauty.”
“And now I am afraid again,” she admitted in a breathless whisper.
The way she looked up at him, so loving, yet so unsure… It was hard to breathe. This time had to be perfect for her. It simply had to be. “Tell me what you fear, so I might slay those demons.”
“I fear I will not be…enough.”
“Enough?” He leaned forward, kissed her forehead, her nose, then sampled her mouth again tenderly. “You are more than I ever hoped for, my love. You are enough and then some.”
She reached up and touched his cheek. “I have loved you so very long. I am afraid I shall awaken and discover this to be but a dream.”
“You are my dream, my precious wren. The balm to my heart and soul and the answer to all that I have always needed.” He gave her a sheepish smile as he removed her slippers. “I was just too damned thickheaded to admit it.”
She watched him, her eyes growing ever wider as he slid his hands up her legs and untied the ribbons securing her stockings. “You will tell me what to do, then?”
He laughed. “When have you ever done what I have told you to do?”
“Well…”
He slowly slid her stockings off, tossed them, then bent and kissed the silky skin above her ankle. “Like the richest velvet. Just as I knew it would be.” He kissed and tickled his way higher, breathing in her warmth, reveling in the scent of her yearning. “You taste delightful.”
“I am not quite sure what to say in response to that,” she said, sounding even more breathless. She twitched and made an endearing high-pitched noise as he rubbed his face along her inner thighs and added a sprinkling of kisses against their warm softness. “Oh my. The stubble of your beard. It tickles.”
“In a good way or a bad way, my love?”
“A good way,” she answered while fisting her hands against her middle.
He stretched over her and nudged a kiss to her knuckles. “Close your eyes and feel , Fortuity. This is not research—this is real, for your pleasure.”
“If I close my eyes, how will I know if I am supposed to do something?”
“Trust me, my beauty. You will know. Now, close your eyes.”
After unleashing a shuddering sigh, she did.
He pushed her chemise higher and gently blew on the V between her thighs.
“Oh my.” She wiggled and clenched her fists tighter, making her knuckles whiten.
“Eyes closed, my little wren. Feel.”
She answered with a sigh that sounded more like a groan.
He licked her stomach and drew slow circles with the tip of his tongue, moving ever lower with each swipe.
Wiggling beneath him, she bent her knees.
“A wonderful idea, my lovely.” He hooked her legs over her shoulders, spreading her legs.
“Surely, you are not going to—”
He interrupted her with a slow, well-aimed swipe of his tongue.
She sucked in a deep breath, then thrilled him with a soft moan.
He licked her again, deeper, slower, exploring her sweetness until she buried her fingers in his hair and clutched his head with both hands. When he slipped a finger into her hot wetness, she shrieked and arched higher, pulling his hair with an urgency that told him, so far, this was a job well done. He ached to take her. It had been such a long, lonely month fantasizing about this pleasure, but he had to take his time and make it right for her. Increasing the rhythm of the combined efforts of his mouth and his fingers, he struggled for control, determined to bring her to the pinnacle of bliss.
“Matthew,” she gasped. “Oh, Matthew.”
With her every uttering of his name, he pumped his fingers faster while drawing the nubbin of her sex deeper into his mouth.
Her throaty moan turned into a roar as she bucked into his touch and clutched his head harder. He kept her there until her spasms no longer clenched his fingers, then he lifted his head and slid her chemise upward even more.
Gasping for breath, she sat up and whipped it off over her head, then caught hold of him and pulled him in for a kiss, making him stretch across her. He cupped her breast, teasing her hardened nipple between his thumb and forefinger, but he growled in surprise when she pushed him as if demanding he stop.
“Why are you still dressed?” she demanded.
“A fair question.” He tore off his shirt, unbuttoned his falls, and kicked off his boots and trousers.
Her eyes widened. “Oh dear. I do not see how this is going to work at all.”
“Trust me, my love.” Cupping her breasts as he stretched over her, he kissed them each in turn, reveling in their perfection as he knelt between her legs. “I have wanted this so very badly.”
“I too,” she whispered, while cradling his face between her hands. “But I was so afraid to risk it.”
He gazed down at her, drowning in the stormy blue depths of her worried gaze. “You own me, my little wren. Heart and soul, you possess me with a fury I was a fool to deny for so long. Please forgive me.”
“As long as you always remember that you possess me as well.”
“I will, my love. I swear it.”
She ran her hands down his sides and hugged him between her thighs. “I love the way you feel, the way you make me feel, and I am ready for you to show me the rest.”
He lowered his head and kissed her with a slow, determined patience that took all his control. Then he nibbled along her jawline and lower, teasing the tip of his tongue along her collarbone as he stroked her nipple with his thumb. As he took it into his mouth and sucked it harder, he slid his hand downward and cupped her buttock, barely grazing his fingertips across her wetness.
She arched upward, cradling his head to her breast and wrapping her legs around him and squeezing.
Unable to wait any longer, he entered her slowly, waiting to bury himself fully to allow her incredible tightness to accommodate him. “Gads, Fortuity, you are exquisite.”
“This is so—” She lifted her head and glanced down between them. “Oh my.”
He gave her a reassuring kiss and nudged in deeper until the barrier of her maidenhead stopped him.
She bucked upward, then flinched and raked her fingernails down his back and dug them into the cheeks of his buttocks. “More, my husband. Make me feel and return me to the bliss of before.”
With more control than he ever dreamed he possessed, he claimed her fully, then slid back out and plunged in again.
She moved beneath him, meeting him with every thrust and making those wonderful sounds she had made before. “Oh, Matthew, this is…”
“Yes, my love.” He kissed her shoulder, then buried his face in the curve of her neck and pumped harder. The time for conversation had passed.
She squealed and raked her nails down his sides while shuddering wildly.
He drove into her harder. A growling roar tore from his throat as he pounded faster. “Fortuity!” As he bellowed her name, he spilled his seed, pouring into her with such force and fervor that it left him trembling. He collapsed but caught himself on his elbows to keep from crushing her as he gasped for breath.
“Why did we wait so long to do this?” she asked with a breathless laugh.
He would not ruin the moment by reminding her of her stubbornness or her fears. Instead, he kissed her before rising and looking into her eyes. “I have no idea, my love. But I can assure you that we shall not deny ourselves of this pleasure any longer.” A moment of determined clarity made its way through the warm sensations thrumming through him with the steady rhythm of a heartbeat. “You shall sleep in my bed from now on. Agreed?”
She gave him a wicked grin. “Then what shall we do with my bedchamber that adjoins yours?”
“When the time comes, it will make a proper nursery.”
“Oh, it will, will it?”
He nodded, then kissed her forehead and resettled himself more comfortably between her legs.
Her smile grew. “That is becoming quite nice again. None of my research mentioned a man’s ability to…uhm…become amorous again with such speed.” She frowned. “Is that normal, or does it mean I failed to give you enough pleasure?”
“It means you gave me so much pleasure that you made me greedy for more.” He arched a brow. “Is that all right, my love? After all, this is your first time, and I do not wish to make you sore.”
“It is more than all right,” she answered while rocking her hips to meet his slow, steady thrusts. “Because you have made me greedy for more too.”
“Excellent, my love. That is all I needed to hear.”
*
Lazily draped across him as if he were extra cushions for the settee, Fortuity smiled as Matthew’s steady heartbeat thumped against her cheek. “I can only imagine the conversation around the servants’ table downstairs.”
His hearty chuckle vibrated through her. “From the whisperings I have managed to overhear, they should be very pleased with us today. I believe they feared we were about to take up separate households due to incompatibility.”
“Well, I fear we became rather loud. So there should be no doubt in their minds that we are very compatible.”
He rumbled against her with a heartier laugh and tightened his arms around her. “Yes. Very compatible, indeed. By the way, your removal of my cravat was most impressive for an inexperienced virgin.”
She pushed up and propped herself on her elbow. “Are you doubting my purity?”
“I am not,” he said with an urgency that revealed his fear of insulting her. “But even old Ablesby takes longer to untie my neckcloths, and he’s been my valet for years.”
Toying with the dusting of dark hair across his chest, she debated whether to tell him a long-held Broadmere sister secret.
“Is it that dire?” he asked with a leery look, while enticingly running his hand up and down her side.
“You must swear to never tell a soul.”
He grinned and palmed her buttock as if checking it for ripeness. “I swear on this delectable arse.”
She rolled her eyes. “Papa and Mama were always very strict about us all arriving at the dinner table in a timely manner. Tardiness is a passive insult, Papa always said, and Mama insisted it was the height of rudeness.”
Matthew frowned. “What has that to do with your talent of whisking off a cravat in the blink of an eye?”
“When we were younger, Chance was even more unbearable than he is now. So, all of us sisters learned how to relieve him of his perfectly tied cravat when it was time to march down to dinner so he would have to return to his rooms and have it sorted. It always made him late, and he got into terrible trouble with Papa, who refused to believe his innocent daughters would know anything about untying a gentleman’s neckcloth.”
“Poor Chance.”
“Poor Chance?” She thumped Matthew on the chest. “He was a thoroughly insufferable jackass to us all—still can be, at times.”
Matthew caught her wrist before she could playfully thump him again and pulled her down for a long, slow kiss that left her deliciously breathless.
She drew back from him and teased him with a well-placed wiggle. “You are quite good at that, you know. Of course, I have no other with which to compare you.”
“And you never will, my love.” In one swift motion, he yanked the velvety throw off the back of the settee, tossed it onto the floor, then rolled them off on top of it. He stretched, grabbed a cushion, and placed it under her head.
“Ever the gentleman,” she said as she wound her arms and legs around him and pulled him down where he belonged. The inferno he had awakened within her was ready to be stoked once again.
Propped on his elbows, he gave her a look filled with such caring and concern that her heart threatened to burst with joy. “I try, and as a gentleman, I must ask if this is all right?” He nibbled a tender kiss across her mouth, then raised his head again. “I shall never get my fill of you, my love, because you are so exquisite. But I do not wish you to be miserable afterward because you are so very sore. This is a new activity for you.”
“You make me sound like a horse that has been overridden.”
He snorted with laughter, then quickly turned his head to bury his face in his shoulder. Once composed, he gave her as innocent a look as he had ever managed. “I would never compare you to a horse, my love.”
She squeezed his taut buttocks just as he’d squeezed hers. With a wicked grin, she wrapped her legs tighter around him and arched upward, aching for him to return her to ecstasy. “I am unsatisfied with that weak apology. I believe you should make it up to me, my lord. ”
As he filled her and settled into that wonderful rocking motion that thrilled her, he managed a proper nod. “I am yours to command, my love. Ever yours to command.”