Chapter Thirty
Once Geneveive tucked Horatio, Daisy, and Sophia under the blankets, and kissed each of them on the nose, she dreamily strolled to her chamber.
She took a moment to peer at her reflection in her looking glass.
Her flushed cheeks and bright eyes must be because she anticipated her night to come.
She always looked forward to crawling into Jonathan’s bed, but tonight was extra special.
She wanted to try something new. Something daring. Something naughty.
She didn’t bother knocking since neither of them cared if he was decent. Truth be told, whenever they were alone, she preferred him naked.
Bared to the waist, he sat on the bed, his legs stretched out in front of him, a book and his letter shield on his lap. Smiling, he placed the materials on the nightstand. “Good evening, wife.”
“Good evening, husband.” She slipped out of the silk dressing gown he’d gifted her, dropping it on the ground behind her.
Jonathan’s jaw went slack. She suspected that the light from the fire shone through her thin nightdress, allowing him to see the silhouette of her body. At least, she hoped so since he would most certainly enjoy an erotic little peek.
“Thank you for purchasing Daisy for Sophia,” Genevieve said. “She adores her.”
“Hopefully Floppy isn’t feeling neglected,” he said, his voice much too raspy for a conversation about cats and dogs.
So far, this was going swimmingly. She strolled toward the bed, doing her best to swing her hips seductively.
“Not at all. Horatio is curled up in bed with the two of them.” She halted a few feet in front of him.
Taking her time, she withdrew the pins from her coiffure, talking all the while.
“Thank you for the lovely afternoon. You make everything exceedingly fun.” She shook out her hair, hoping the unbound strands enticed him further.
“I am quite fun, if I do say so myself.” There was that devilish twinkle she adored.
“To my knowledge, the only fun lord in parliament.” She fluttered her eyelashes. “And definitely the comeliest.”
“And how many lords do you know personally, dear wife?”
“Fifty-one, fifty-two, fifty-three,” she teased. “But only one makes me wet with desire.”
“Fuck.” He moaned.
Being flirtatious was actually quite fun. She finished her stroll to stand beside the bed. “Off.” Emboldened, she twirled her finger.
“Aye, aye. Your wish is my command.” He lifted his hips and quickly slid out of his small clothes. His cock bobbed as if saying hello.
Pulling her nightdress over her head, she bared herself to his perusal, which he punctuated with a hiss.
She stared into those erotic half-lidded eyes. “Thank you for taking care of my family.”
He held her gaze. “They are now my family, too.”
“Thank you for coming to my rescue at Thorn Manor.”
“I was a little late. You rescued yourself.” His gaze slid lower, landing on her breasts and heating her nipples. Said nipples tingled with delight.
“But I knew you would find me, and that gave me strength,” she said sincerely and whole-heartedly.
“You don’t need me to be strong. Nevertheless, I am here for you, every second of every day. Forever.” His gaze landed on the dark curls hiding her quim, and he licked his lips.
As much as she enjoyed the way his mouth and hands made love to her cunny, the point of her brazen display was that he was to be the object of her worship.
She carefully straddled him. Lowering her torso, she rubbed her breasts over his chest, the friction beyond decadent, and then she purred in his ear, “Thank you for teaching me how to make love and for always being patient and gentle.”
“My pleasure,” he said with that low rumble that vibrated deep in her belly.
Her mouth watering, she kissed a trail over his firm pectorals and flat abdomen. Down, down she licked and kissed until she was seated between his thighs, inhaling the scent of almond soap and musky man.
She ran her fingertips over the soft skin of his steely length. Then, fisting him, she stroked from root to tip.
“Fuck,” he growled.
She met his gaze, then licked along his salty, delicious length as he entwined his fingers in her hair.
Taking her time to revel in the sensual masculinity that was her husband, she trailed kisses up and down his cock. And then, when she could no longer deny herself, she wrapped her lips around him, taking as much of him into her mouth as she could.
Humming throaty sounds of pleasure, he gently tugged on her hair. His intense gaze so fiery it burned her skin; he watched as his cock slid in and out of her mouth.
“My God, you are so good at that,” he said, his praise filling her with pride. Thank goodness, because she had no idea what she was doing or how she even knew what to do, beyond the few ribald jokes she’d heard at The Purple Rabbit and her own desires.
He closed his eyes and dropped his head onto the pillow. His pelvis rocked, matching the pace of her strokes and suckling. As his breathing grew more labored, and his hair pulling became more aggressive, she took him deeper. Stroked faster. Sucked harder.
“Stop, Gen. I am going to come,” he grunted.
He gently tried to guide her back and away, but she fought him as she shook her head from side to side.
He moaned. “That isn’t helping. I won’t last much longer.” Good.
“Do you want me to come in your mouth?”
Nodding, she drew him deeper.
“God almighty!” His muscles tightened. Spasmed. And then he roared. Hot, thick liquid shot down her throat. She drank and lapped up as much as she could.
Delighted with herself, she sat back on her haunches and regarded the man lying in front of her. So handsome. So generous. So fun-loving. And currently, if the softness in his gaze was any indication, quite vulnerable.
She expected him to say something wonderfully romantic. Instead, her husband, the irreverent scoundrel, ensconced her in a smart-arse grin. “Give me a moment, minx. And then I am going to fuck you until you pass out from pleasure.”
Not quite the romantic declaration she’d anticipated. More the fool, her. She should have predicted wicked words since his hair was an unmitigated disaster.
“Not if I fuck you to incoherence first.” She grinned. “And, dear husband, I don’t require a moment.”