Chapter 12 #2
“No…more drinking and gambling…” she rasped out, her head shaking, like she was trying to fight her own pleasure.
Removing his fingers, Hunt sat up, bringing Delia with him. “Of course,” he said seriously. “Anything else?” he asked, lifting her skirts higher.
“Yes, I get to call you magnificent any time I want.”
He cringed at her words.
She pointed to him. “And you don’t get to cringe.”
“Absolutely not, the wedding’s off.” He shook his head but was unable to hide the laughter in his voice. If she wanted to call him her royal subject, he’d accept it and bow at her feet.
“You’re too late. I’ve already said yes,” she teased, nipping at his jaw.
“You have.” He kissed her nose, playfully. “Would you like to tell me what happened with your mother to make you stop speaking to me all day?”
She leaned against him, as if she needed his strength.
Hunt waited patiently, wanting to be whatever she needed him to be.
“She may have said that she only became with child in order to secure my father.” She hung her head, like the words were still hurting her.
He cupped her cheek. “It doesn’t matter. You’re here, and I for one am grateful that you are.”
Delia graced him with the rarest of things, a wide smile that stole his very breath away. “Have you always been this charming?” she asked, rubbing her fingers through his growing beard.
He’d have to have his valet trim it when he returned to London. What Hunt believed was going to be a few hours’ trip was turning into the best journey of his entire life.
At least, one good thing came out of his fool of a cousin stealing his identity and running away with Delia’s sister.
“Yes, you just didn’t notice because you were too busy being disagreeable.” He pinched her side playfully. “What else did your mother say?”
Hunt wasn’t foolish enough to believe that was all the vile woman had said to Delia.
Delia sighed, like she didn’t wish to continue.
“My mother said many things, but I suppose the one thing she said that really hurt was…” She shifted her weight, and he ignored the pleasure it caused having her round rump pressed against him.
“She said that men like you don’t marry women like me and her. ”
He reared back, blinking repeatedly, like the woman was in the carriage saying the words to him. Out of all the hateful things to say to one’s daughter, to Hunt, that was the worst.
He cupped her cheek with one hand, the other around her nape, needing to reassure both her and himself. Her mother was a leech of a woman, and if she never graced Hunt and Delia’s life again, it still wouldn’t be long enough.
“You’re not your mother,” he whispered fiercely.
“Like I am not my father. Before I met you, I believed that all I’d ever be was a pretender, the bastard he never wanted, but then you crashed into me, and suddenly I didn’t care what a dead man or the Ton thought of me.
Just you, Adelia St. George. You’re all that matters to me.
Perhaps your mother is right, and men like me don’t marry women like her, but you’re not her, and I’m not your father. ”
She kissed him, her body trembling. He could taste the salt of the few tears that had fallen down her pretty cheeks.
“We’ll never be them,” she said fiercely, her hands gripping his shirtsleeve.
He shook his head in agreement. “Never.”
Their mouths fused together, desperately, as her hands pulled at the flaps of his breeches, freeing his hard cock.
“I need you,” she moaned, as she pumped his length up and down.
“Turn around and lift up your skirts,” he demanded.
His body vibrated with joy that this beautiful, fierce woman was going to be his wife. To hell with her mother and his father. He was going to marry his hellion, and there was nothing Society, his father, or her mother could do about it.
Finally, Hunt was living his life for him, and now Delia.
For the first time in his life, he cared for someone other than his mother and sister. Reg, Walter, and Sampson were also important to him, but they did not need him to provide and care for them. Delia had become more important than anyone in the world in such a short amount of time.
She turned around, careful not to fall over in the moving carriage. “Like this?” she asked, shyly, looking at him from over her shoulder.
Taking his turgid cock in hand, he ran himself through her wet folds, torturing them both, as she lifted her skirts higher. Savoring the sight of her plump backside to him, he whispered in her ear, “Just like that. Hold on to the strap.”
She took hold of the leather strap near the window, following his instructions, as he thrust into her slowly, his hand securely around her waist. He groaned at the sheer pleasure of being inside of her again.
It had been hours since they were last together, and it felt like a lifetime.
He pulled her back to his chest, his mouth wrapping around her earlobe, his hands exposing her breasts to the open carriage.
He was thankful for the warmer weather, if only temporary, so that they didn’t have to worry about the impediment of a counterpane and freezing, like they had the previous day.
Delia leaned back and grabbed his head, offering him her sweet mouth. His hold tightened, afraid he’d let her fall.
She found a steady rhythm, shocking him when she grabbed the other strap on the other side of the carriage and bounced up and down on his cock.
“Oh God, Hunt, you feel so good inside me!” she shouted, driving him mad with her words.
Hunt’s head fell against the carriage. “Bloody hell, Delia. If you keep talking like that, I’m going to embarrass myself in this sweet cunny of yours.”
“Yes!” she called out, her sex gripping him tightly.
The sounds of their coupling filled the carriage, and he couldn’t help but wish they were in a bed when they hit a particular bumpy patch of road. They jostled, but Hunt gripped her to him, burying his nose in her sweat-soaked neck, inhaling her sweet scent.
He massaged her full breasts, wishing he could put them in his mouth. “I want to feel your essence all over me. Can you do that for me, my hellion?” he asked, pinching her hard nipples.
“Ahh,” she cried out, using the two straps to hold her as she bounced on his cock, her body shaking with the weight of her impending orgasm.
“When I get you in a bed, I’m going to bend you over and take you rough and hard, so I can see that sweet little arse of yours.” He bit her neck gently, sucking her sensitive skin into his mouth.
Her sex squeezed around him, preventing all movement as she came undone on top of him. Hunt squeezed her to him as he emptied inside of her, over and over.
For the first time in his life, he didn’t worry about creating a life. With Delia, he wanted everything.
He continued to hold her, as they both tried to catch their breath.
“Perhaps we should find a vicar in the next town and marry,” he said, as she rose off of him and sat beside him, falling into his arms again.
“We cannot. Your mother would never forgive you.” She shook her head at him. “And you do not have a special license.”
He shrugged his shoulder. “That can be remedied.” Hunt kissed her, his smile so wide he thought he would crack a tooth.
“You are right. She and Helen would both be out for blood.” He shuddered at the thought of having to deal with his sister if he were to marry without them.
“We will marry as soon as we return to London.”
She sighed and laid her head on his chest. “Good. I’ll be all yours then.”
Hunt kissed the top of her head, enjoying just being there with her in his arms, making plans for the future.
“Forever.”