Chapter Twenty #2
Edward untucked his shirt and stripped to his small clothes.
His sofa, which was quite comfortable to sit on, left much to be desired as a mattress.
His feet and ankles hung over the edge, and when he rolled over, his protruding arse exceeded the width of the cushion.
He desperately needed a restful night if he was to continue functioning, and there was no way this would happen when he didn’t fit on his makeshift bed.
And this wasn’t even his most pressing problem since his cock ached for the woman sleeping down the hall. He was a man with needs, after all. And right now, if he couldn’t have Franny, he required a mind-numbing, muscle-relaxing release.
Instead of accepting his miserable state, he should take matters into his own hands. He reached into his small clothes, grasped his hard-as-stone rod in both palms, and twisted.
Pleasure pumped into his blood as he imagined Franny’s hair spread across his lap, her mouth hollowed around him. His beautiful fantasy sucked him in and licked him on the way out. His toes curled, and his eyes rolled back in his head.
“Edward?”
This might be the best self-pleasure session of his life since he could hear Franny calling to him. The mirage was so life-like that when he inhaled, her freshly washed scent wafted into his nostrils.
“Are you asleep?” she asked.
Life-like his arse. This was no fantasy. Franny was in the room, talking to him. Wincing, he halted mid-stroke and slowly withdrew his hand so as not to bring attention to what he was up to. The sofa creaked as he rolled toward her voice.
Franny stood in the doorway, a candle in one hand. Her soft red waves cascaded over her shoulders, her feet were bare, and the only thing she wore was a calf-length chemise.
“Oh, splendid. You are awake,” she said. “Although you look quite uncomfortable. You are much too large for that settee.”
No shite! But that hadn’t stopped her from relegating him to dainty furniture the night before. “Do you need something?” he asked, his irritation flaring.
Seeming unfazed by his tart response, Franny stepped closer. “I shall share your bed,” she announced.
Holy bull bullocks! The wind was literally knocked from his lungs. Was she saying what he thought she was saying?
“It won’t be indecent,” she said. “We can put blankets between us.”
But he wanted to be deplorably indecent. This was an insane idea. There was no way he could sleep beside her without touching her.
“I should stay out here,” he said.
“Please.” Her voice was a soft caress over his heated skin. “I cannot bear to think of you being uncomfortable on my account.”
Was this compassionate woman the same person who had broken his nose and caused him untold grief these past few days, or was he in the middle of a nighttime fantasy?
He sat up and planted his feet solidly on the floor.
He wiggled his toes in the soft carpeting.
A rush of sensation alerted him that he was indeed awake.
How utterly disappointing because if it had been a dream, he would have crawled into bed with her and sunk himself to the hilt.
As it was, he would bitterly and begrudgingly do the right thing.
“Franny, I’m staying here. ’Tis for the best.”
It was no surprise that the minx ignored him. She grabbed his hand and tugged. “Zigzag misses you.”
On cue, Zigzag stuck her head into the parlor and indignantly meowed her time-to-go-to-bed-human alarm.
“Bloody hell,” he groaned as he succumbed to Franny’s tug and Zigzag’s meows.
“You are quite grumpy,” she said. “Mayhap because you are exhausted.”
Exhausted, sore, and randy as hell. And her warm hand clutching his as she guided him down the hallway, the promise of sensual delights almost within his grasp, wasn’t helping matters.
Maybe she was playing coy, pretending that this was innocent, when what she wanted was for him to pin her to the bed and make love to her all night long.
Yes. Please. A man could pray and dream.
He held his breath as Franny placed the candle on the nightstand, rolled up his counterpane, and situated it in the middle of the bed. “There.” Brushing her hands back and forth, she smiled. “Nothing indecent.”
Edward let out his breath with a dramatic scoff. No way in hell would a rolled-up blanket protect her from the things he wanted to do to her body.
Thankfully, she did not punch him. However, she might have rolled her eyes. It was difficult to tell in the shadows with his desire overtaking his intellect.
She lay down on one side of The Great Wall of Counterpane, pulled the covers to her chin, and tapped the nest she’d created for him. “I shall sleep better knowing you are comfortable.”
He’d sleep better if he tupped her until he passed out.
Zigzag leapt onto the bed, curled up beside Franny’s feet, and meowed at him.
Resigning himself to a night of torment, he stretched out on his side of the mattress.
“See, isn’t this cozy?” Franny sat up and snuffed the candle. “Now we shall all sleep better.”
No way in hell was he getting any sleep. Not with the sound of this succubus’ gentle breath blowing in and out. He folded his arms behind his head, stared at the black ceiling, and planned his seduction.
What would turn Franny back into the woman who’d rubbed her arse against his cock and whispered his name with lust clouding her eyes?
Her kisses had been beyond delicious and passionate.
Was it the danger? The ale? Jealousy? Coming up behind her and whispering in her ear?
Ah! The latter might work. All he had to do was roll to his side, rest his head on the counterpane, and whisper her name seductively.
Once she was in his arms, the rest would be easy.
He rested his cheek on the counterpane and inhaled her intoxicating scent. “Franny,” he said, his voice a sensual rumble.
Her gentle snore rippled.
Well, hell, he couldn’t exactly cajole a sleeping woman into bed sport. You also can’t tup someone you are supposed to be protecting, you bloody fool! He huffed so hard it was a miracle he didn’t wake up the two females happily dreaming in his bed while he suffered sheer, hellish agony.
It seemed he was in for the longest night of his life. Wriggling his arse into the mattress, he tried to get comfortable. He instantly found that perfect position, and his muscles relaxed. As a foggy haze swept over him, he closed his eyes.