Chapter 5 #2
She moaned as he teased first one finger, then a second, inside her, his tongue circling her nipple in an erotic mimicry. And then—St. Columbine help me!—Cash flicked his thumb across her clitoris, and Athena jerked in need.
“Please, Cash!” she panted. “Please!”
He didn’t need any further urging apparently.
They both knew this wasn’t a seduction, but a culmination of something they’d both needed for so long.
He rolled her onto her back, positioning himself between her legs, and took his long length in his hand.
Her hands cupped her breasts, trying to recreate the sensations his tongue had caused.
With one hand braced beside her shoulder, he met her eyes. “Are you sure, Athena?”
In response, she reached up and draped her arms around his neck. “Now, Cash. Please!”
And then he slid home.
They both moaned at the perfection of the sensation, and she felt him exhale in harmony with her. They were still for a moment, and Athena basked in the feeling of being filled by such a remarkable man. It had been so long, and she couldn’t recall the act ever feeling so perfect before.
And then he began to move.
Had she thought it incredible before? Each time he slid out—not quite free, but enough to make her miss him—he’d thrust back into her, and her inner muscles contracted around him in the most glorious way.
She planted her heels against the counterpane and allowed her knees to fall open. From this position, she was able to meet his thrusts, to undulate with him, and judging by his grunts, she knew he appreciated this new position as well.
In fact, it wasn’t long before his breathing became harsher, and she knew he was close.
She closed her eyes, willing him to find the pleasure he needed with her body, but he shifted above her, bracing himself on one arm again, even as he continued to thrust. Before she could open her eyes, she felt his hand between their joined bodies, felt his thumb against her clitoris once more.
And when he teased it, her muscles contracted, and her orgasm burst over her in a surprising rush of delight.
She heard the moan emerge from her own lips, heard his echo, then felt him withdraw, leaving her empty and still pulsating.
She didn’t have time to mourn him, however, because he grasped himself in one fist, his knuckles brushing against her and providing the pressure she still craved, as he spilled his seed into the curls at the junction of her thighs.
Then he collapsed half-beside her, his legs still entwined with hers, the sticky results of their lovemaking binding their skin together. Athena’s body was singing, humming, and she knew she needed more. More of this, more of him.
Luckily, they had all afternoon.
Cash couldn’t ever remember feeling so…sated. He hadn’t even eaten luncheon, by God, and he didn’t care. He did rather care he’d gone after Athena with no more control or care than a randy lad, but she’d been willing to match him thrust-for-thrust.
Still, it hadn’t been well-done, and he vowed, as soon as he had the energy, he’d make love to her slowly and perfectly, building up her anticipation until she cried out his name.
He grinned lazily against her skin, imagining that.
“I ken I should thank ye.”
Her comment, coming out of the blue like that, surprised him enough to lift his head. “What?”
She was resting against the pillows, looking as boneless as he felt. Languidly, she gestured down her body. “For no’—ye ken. In me.”
He blinked in surprise, glancing down at her curls—a deep red he hadn’t taken nearly enough time to admire earlier—and seeing the evidence of his pleasure. It was a reminder.
As he rolled to the side of the bed and stood, he shrugged. “I know you already had one child out of wedlock and likely don’t need another,” he said as he reached the basin of warm water. He was wringing out a cloth and turning back to her when he saw a flicker of a grimace cross her face. “What?”
She sighed as he joined her on the bed once more, but didn’t object when he began to clean her. He liked how unabashed she was with her body.
It was why he’d suggested this liaison, and why he had further plans.
“I would never trade Callan, ye understand,” she finally said quietly.
It was the sadness in her tone which jerked Cash’s attention away from his lewd thoughts about future liaisons. He tossed the cloth toward the washstand and crawled up the bed until he could stretch out beside her.
“He’s a fine lad, Athena.”
Her soft smile had a hint of sorrow to it. “I ken it well. And ye have nae idea how happy I have been the last few weeks to see him playing with yer boy. Matthew is a brilliant lad and so good with Callan. He genuinely cares for him, and Callan craves that attention.”
Before Cash could form a reply, Athena had rolled onto her side to face him, her expression intent. “And seeing ye with him?” She scoffed slightly. “Cash, ye are such a good father. Thank ye for sharing some of yerself with my Callan.”
To his surprise, Cash found his throat closing with emotion at the intensity of her appreciation.
Until that moment, he hadn’t realized how much it might mean to have someone else—someone besides Matthew—consider him a “good father.” His own sire had spent little time with him, and while his mother had done her best, she’d been focused on attempting to force refinement on his sister in the years since Cash’s first marriage.
But Athena… Athena had noticed, and approved, of how he parented Matthew. And it meant so much to him.
Cash had to clear his throat twice before he could form the words.
“You are welcome,” he said hoarsely. “It’s meant a lot to me to be able to spend time with him, and to see you with Matthew as well.”
Solemnly, she nodded, then dropped her head back to the pillow. “I have five brothers—three legitimate, two no’—and they are all good men, in their own ways. My father too. But none of them have quite made up for the lad no’ having a father and brother. Lysander thinks I let him run too wild.”
“Who is Lysander?”
She hummed. “My second-auldest brother. The oldest from my mother. Lyon is the auldest of us all, but he had another mother, and he is—well, he holds himself separate from the rest of us, now. If he kenned Callan better, he wouldnae think I allow him to run wild.”
Cash noticed her stumble, and wondered what she’d been about to reveal.
“And do you? Let Callan run too wild?”
Her eyes were closed, her fingers idly tracing circles on her bare stomach, but she smiled softly. “Perhaps. Aye. But then, I allow myself too much freedom as well.”
With a teasing growl, Cash rolled atop her, gathering her in his arms. “I like your freedoms!”
Chuckling, she wriggled beneath him until he managed to pull the counterpane over both of them and settled down with his arm around her. “What kinds of freedom do you think are too much, Athena?”
She was still smiling as her eyes closed once more.
“I bore a child without the benefit of marriage, Cash,” she reminded him.
“My reputation—which was already battered because of my outspoken nature—was ruined after that. I suspect that, were it kenned I took my son and snuck out to cavort by the river with two friends, I would be chastised for that freedom as well. What else?” She hummed.
“Oh, and in a recent production where I dressed as a lad, I paired a red waistcoat with a set of blue breeches.”
Because he knew she was teasing, he chuckled, pulling her closer. “An outrageous freedom indeed.”
But inside, his mind was whirling. Was she an actress then? She’d mentioned a production, and actresses enjoyed a certain amount of liberty when it came to their personal actions. He knew many gentlemen back in London who kept actresses as a mistress.
He’d had this suspicion, for a while now, that she was a member of the minor gentry, perhaps a gentleman’s daughter—or even a lord’s by-blow—who’d been led astray by a man who’d abandoned her after she’d become pregnant.
But that didn’t match the actress narrative, and the more he thought of it, the more he doubted that scenario as well; Athena wasn’t a woman who would allow a man to hurt her like that.
When she stretched, her toes brushed against his, and he smiled instinctively.
“There are some who might say this is a freedom,” she hummed appreciatively.
“It is indeed.” He rolled so he could throw his free arm across her belly and found he liked the way her fingers rose to touch his forearm.
“The freedom to do what we want, when we want. The freedom to be who we want,” he added, thinking of the mound of ducal responsibilities he’d abandoned that afternoon.
Her fingers stroked from his elbow to his wrist, then back again, causing little frissons of delight to climb his arm and settle in his chest.
“And if ye could be anyone, Cash? Who would ye be?”
He answered without hesitation. “Your lover.”
He felt her grin.
But something compelled him to elaborate. “I’d like to be…just Cash. Just here, with you. None of the responsibility, just the chance to be like this.”
She was silent a long moment, her strokes even and gentle, bringing him peace.
“We all have responsibilities. I dinnae need to ken yers to ken ye have allowed them to take over yer life. Even Matthew feels it.”
It was true. Before this summer, he’d allowed himself only one afternoon a week with his son and heir.
As if understanding his thoughts, Athena continued, “Maybe all ye need is someone to remind ye to compartmentalize that part of yer life. Ye have responsibilities, but ye can also have fun. Ye can also be just Cash.”
The way he was when he was with her. When he was with her and Callan and Matthew, all four of them together.
Sighing, he closed his eyes and rested his cheek against her shoulder. Her lips grazed the top of his head.
“I’d like to stay like this,” he admitted quietly. “Being just Cash.”
Athena didn’t know his full name or his rank or his responsibilities. She saw him as just a man.