Chapter Twenty-Six
As Nicolas held Josie close, Bessie Dove-Lyon’s words echoed in his mind. Breeding does not make a lady, and his ancestors do not define a man.
Was she trying to convince him that Josie was a lady despite not having an aristocratic upbringing?
Because he’d already come to this conclusion.
However, his opinion did not matter to the ton.
Was she also trying to tell him that he didn’t have to follow the cursed path of his ancestors?
If so, why had she made it impossible for him to save his family from ruin?
And more importantly, why in the blazes was he thinking about the perplexing widow while the most beautiful woman in the world lay naked in his bed, inviting him to a romping round two?
Josephine’s breathing had steadied, and her dark hair tangled about them in a silky shroud. Her soft but deadly hands lay on his chest, and her unfocused pupils stared at him with adoration.
He inhaled her scent as he kissed the top of her head.
“I may not be experienced,” Josie said. “But I believe we need to get ye out of these.” She bit her bottom lips as she tapped his falls.
She didn’t have to ask him twice. He lifted his hips, and together, they rid him of his small clothes and trousers. After spending both the day and the last half hour hot and sweaty, the air cooled his prick and the dashed thing danced about indecently.
Josie swallowed. “I ain’t never seen a real one. Only on statues.”
How could he have ever begrudged her that East-end accent? It was the real her, and he adored the genuine Josie. Besides, that unpracticed voice meant she was too busy concentrating on his cock to think about her lessons.
Hoping she noticed his dimples, he grinned. He might have a cursed family, but he’d praise his dimples to high heaven since she fancied them.
It worked! Her finger brushed over one, then the other. “I like these, I do.” She leaned down and kissed each indentation. Then, her gaze raked over him. “I like all of ye, Nicolas.”
Fighting his desire to leap on her and bury his cock deep, he fisted his hands at his side and willed patience.
Her eyes filled with wonder as she traced his jaw. She didn’t seem to mind that he needed to shave. In fact, she seemed to enjoy playing in his scruff—a double-edged sword since if he didn’t shave soon, she wouldn’t be able to find his dimples. He chuckled to himself.
Her hands traveled over his shoulder and down his arm. She wrapped her palm around his bicep as if testing the density of his muscle. Since he was trying to impress her, he flexed as if he was as stalwart as Hercules.
She sighed, then smiled.
There was one fortunate consequence of physical labor while helping to care for the grounds at Blue Cliff Manor; Josie seemed to admire his additional sinew.
“I like these, too, I do.” She traced the veins on his forearms.
Then he’d roll up his shirtsleeves every time she was near.
She caressed his hands, adding a gentle kiss to the pad of each finger before moving her focus to his chest. “And I like these muscles, too.”
He closed his eyes and reveled in her palms gliding over the dips and swells of his pectorals. Her mouth joined his hands. First, she kissed, then she licked, tasting every inch of him. Not that he minded in the least.
“Can I touch this?” she asked.
He opened his eyes to see what she referenced. To his delight, her gaze was focused on his erect cock. Her tongue darted out to lick her top lip.
Hell yes! “Please do,” he said.
Her touch tentative, she traced the slit on his head, gathering his precum. She brought her finger to her tongue and tasted him. A subtle smile tugged at her lips.
A bolt of lust punched him in the gut.
“Does it feel good?” she asked.
“Nothing better.” Except for maybe having his cock inside her heavenly-scented, delicious quim. “You don’t have to be so gentle,” he said.
She worried her bottom lip as she wrapped her hand around his length. “It’s quite hard, but your skin is soft.”
Hard as friggin’ granite and, if it was possible, growing harder. The longer he was around Josie, the more his need built and the more his cock ached. After the past weeks, his willpower had waned, and his desire had become an all-consuming, almost excruciating hum in his veins.
Placing his hand over hers, he showed her what he liked.
Together their palms twisted as they slid up and down his cock, creating an indulgent friction.
As he suspected, she was an enthusiastic pupil, and a fast study.
She was, in fact, so talented that one more stroke and he would spend all over himself.
Growling and moving quickly, he toppled her onto her back and hovered on his elbows above her. Emerald-gold specks bedazzled with the magic of the stars sparkled in her emotion-filled eyes.
He lowered his lips to hers, bestowing a gentle kiss that bespoke of a million promises in the midst of their passionate bed sport.
“Please make love to me, Nicolas,” she asked, her voice sweet and vulnerable.
Whatever this thing with Josie was, it was right and transcended class and title.
Together, they could conquer any ill luck or ridiculous wager they encountered.
Nothing could stop them. He might be the luckiest man in the world since he would be the one standing by Josie’s side when she conquered the world.
Woe be it to any individual who got in his way.
Lining his cock up with her entrance, he gently pushed until his tip breached her channel. She tensed, so he kissed her until her muscles relaxed. Once she was again pliant, he eased in another inch.
“I like it, I do,” she whispered in his ear.
“I love it.” He grunted and sank himself deeper.
Her cunny was warm and even more welcoming than coming home after a too-long trip in the cold. He hated to slide out. But, oh the pleasurable friction as he slid back in.
Losing control of his overwhelming emotions as he thrust himself to the hilt, he whispered, “I love you, Josephine.”
She cried out.
Bloody hell. He’d been a beast and hurt her. How unfortunate that it had been at the same time he’d bared his soul. “I’m sorry,” he whispered against her cheek.
“I love ye, too. Now, harder,” she demanded as she crashed her hips against his.
Since he’d never deny her anything, he pounded into her sweet heat. Over and over again, the primal beast within him savagely thrust. His heart beat ferociously, thumping in his ears like an out-of-control drum. Sweat slicked his torso as he hammered away, chasing his pleasure.
He halted for a moment to take in air.
Before he’d captured a full breath, Josie wrapped her legs around him and rolled them. His cock slid from her as she swung one leg over his hip and straddled him.
Holy bollocks. Moments ago, she’d been a virgin, and now she was going to ride him to kingdom come. At least, he hoped that’s what she was preparing to do.
Hair everywhere and eyes wild with lust, she placed his tip against her quim and slammed down hard. Her walls gripped him and tugged him even deeper.
He was drowning. Drowning in pleasure. Drowning in emotion. Drowning in Josie.
“Fuck,” he grunted. The unseemly utterance suited since it was the only word that captured the awe of being fucked good and proper by his love with her athletic body built for sin.
Her muscular thighs encased in soft skin, rubbed against his hips, and her buxom breasts bounced as she rode him.
“Is this correct?” she panted out as her arse slammed against his pelvis.
“Perfect,” he panted back. “You’re so bloody tight.”
A blush traveled from her bosom up her neck, and her cheeks reddened.
How precious. She was riding him as if she was a champion jockey and he a prize-winning thoroughbred, and she still blushed at his lewd words.
He wasn’t skilled at suggestive talk, and yet, filthy words tumbled from him.
“Fuck me, Josie. Use my body.”
She whimpered as her thighs tightened around him. A gush of feminine juices sluiced over his cock.
“That’s it, Luv. Ride me hard.” He gripped her hips, lifted her, and brought her down hard.
She gasped.
His fingertips dug into her flesh as he repeatedly slammed her onto his cock. Her whimpers of pleasure and the clang of the headboard hitting the wall added to the whirring frenzy.
Sitting tall, Josie undulated her torso. She was his magnificent goddess, more beautiful than a portrait of Venus come to life. She threw her head back in ecstasy. “Nicolas. Oh, God!” Her cry echoed as her walls spasmed around him.
Gritting his teeth, he lay still and fought his orgasm with everything he had. He simply couldn’t come inside her. Not because he didn’t want her to bear his children but because, at this point in her life, a baby would steal her dreams.
Being careful not to slide out of her quivering cunny, he rolled them. Sweat dripped from his brow to plink onto her flushed bosom.
Holding her gaze, he thrust into her until a tingling took over his belly, traveled to his groin, and then spiraled to a single point in his throbbing balls.
With an animal-like grunt, he withdrew. Grasping his cock, he stroked, and then he gave a feral roar as his seed spurted, coating both of their bellies.
Too undone to hold himself up, he collapsed onto the bed beside her. He used the edge of the counterpane to clean them, then threw his forearm over his forehead and melted into the mattress.
After over-imbibing the night before, spending the afternoon asleep in a hot as Hades carriage, and the best tup of his life, he was quite exhausted. And yet, some things needed to be discussed immediately.
“So, you love me?” he asked, a smug smile tugging at his lips.
She sat up, leaned over him, and jammed her finger into his shoulder. “You said you loved me first.”
“I did.” He failed at silencing his chuckle. “First? Does that mean I won this round?”
Giggling, she walloped him.
“Omph.” He crossed his arms over his chest to protect himself from the barrage coming from two fiery fists from hell.
“No one wins until the other opponent is unconscious,” she said.
“Oh, really?” he asked. “Are going to keep going until someone passes out?”
“Round three,” she hollered.
Good Lord, not only could the Davenports probably hear everything going on in his chamber, but he was about to be the first to pass out in a tupping contest.
But what a way to go.
Sitting up quickly, he threw her onto her back, grabbed her wrists, and pinned her hands above her head. “Let the mill begin.”