Chapter Twenty-Three
Penelope
Excitement rushed through Penelope’s veins, leaving her lightheaded with anticipation. The thought that someone might stumble across them while engaged in this illicit, intimate situation both terrified and intrigued her.
But she was willing to do anything Simon asked of her, even if it were the height of stupidity.
Simon held her hand as she gracefully sank to her knees. How she would explain to her maid the scuff marks on the beautiful dress were of no concern in that moment. The only thing that mattered was her husband’s pleasure.
His cock was almost level with her mouth in this position, and Penelope could not look away as his hand continued stroking the enormous length of rigid flesh.
Arousal flared between her legs. The ache there seemed to be on a direct thread with her nipples.
They were drawn up into tight, hard buds, tingling with nearly painful awareness as they brushed against the confines of her stays.
“Brace your hands on my thighs, Penelope,” Simon commanded in a husky voice.
“Next time, I will bind your hands behind your back so that you cannot move away. But tonight, you have leave to stop me if it becomes too intense. You will squeeze my thigh once if you need a moment to collect yourself. Squeeze twice, and everything comes to a halt. Do you understand?”
“Yes, my lord,” she replied, enjoying the way his eyes darkened until they appeared as black as the night sky.
Continuing to address him in such a manner would surely earn a punishment, but she did not care.
She felt reckless as she knelt at Simon’s feet.
When she was with him, she felt more alive than she’d ever felt in her entire life.
“My sweet little mouse is becoming quite the brat. You are earning punishments one by one.” With one hand, Simon continued stroking himself while the other slid to cup the back of her head. “Open your mouth for me, Penelope.”
She did as commanded, shyly parting her lips.
“Tsk, tsk,” Simon murmured, amusement battling with the lust in his tone. “You must do better than that. Wider, mouse.”
The next moment, he slid inside until his cock nudged the back of her throat. His moan echoed her own as her hands involuntarily clutched the hard muscles of his thighs. He was so thick, his length so great, that she could not accept his entirety.
For a moment, she panicked, but Simon obviously recognized her struggle. The part of him inside her mouth retreated, giving her a precious moment to breathe. Once she’d steadied herself, rocking back on her heels, she forced her hands to relax the grip of his trousers.
Simon responded by nudging his length back into the depths of her mouth until she choked and sputtered with panic.
“Shhhh,” Simon admonished, holding her head so he could carefully delve deeper while she attempted swallowing around him. “It wouldn’t do for anyone to hear you choking on my cock, now, would it?”
Penelope whimpered, but not in protest of how she was being used.
She wanted more of him. Wanted to take him deeper into her mouth and have his hands hold her more firmly.
Why she accepted this made no sense, but she could not stop herself from reveling in every dark, delicious moment of it.
Every time he thrust deeper, she felt the euphoria of desire sliding through every particle of her being.
Her heartbeat was so hard and so loud that it echoed inside her head.
Everything was turning hazy, the sounds of the night fading away until all that mattered was Simon.
Simon’s movements were sensuously slow and deliberate, the thrusts never going any farther than she could bear.
He was so careful with her and yet ruthlessly demanding as well.
The juxtaposition puzzled her, but she found herself unable to focus on it as he pushed a little deeper.
Her hands fisted the fabric of his trousers but she prayed he would not stop.
“Yes, that’s it,” he grunted in pleasure.
“Your mouth feels amazing wrapped around my cock. Swallow me down when I come, wife…swallow every drop I give you.” He surged forward once, twice, then buried himself deeper than before.
Hard hands held her steady as he emptied into her mouth with an agonized groan of satisfaction. “Fucking hell, Penelope…fucking hell…”
Penelope was lightheaded with triumph. Whatever this was called, this act between a man and woman, she must have done it correctly because Simon smoothed a hand over her hair, his thumb caressing her cheek as his member pulsed in her mouth.
She swallowed as instructed, even while absently wondering if she tasted the same way when he made her spend with his lips and tongue.
For endless seconds, she remained kneeling at his feet, waiting for him to decide that the moment was at its end. Waiting for her husband’s permission to do something other than swallow his seed.
When he abruptly dragged her up to stand, Penelope swayed while he leisurely tucked himself back into his trousers.
“Come here, Penelope.”
Simon’s husky order made her shiver. The ache between her legs throbbed with fierce intensity.
She stared at him as he pulled her against him and, with overwhelming tenderness, laid claim to her mouth.
He kissed her so thoroughly, so completely, and with such passion that Penelope was left breathless with yearning.
She melted into him when he finally broke the kiss, her fists clutching the expensive material of his suit coat.
Brushing his mouth over her ear, he murmured, “Let’s get you home, wife. I plan on spending the rest of the night showing you what it means to be mine.”
*
During the short coach ride to Camden House, Simon kept Penelope teetering on the edge of orgasm.
Laughing softly, he slid his fingers all around her sex, sometimes plunging inside her body, sometimes toying with her by barely touching her.
He worked her up to the point of exploding but refused to let her fall over into the oblivion of pleasure.
By the time they turned onto their street, Penelope was nearly crazed with lust and pleading with Simon to grant mercy.
“Mercy?” he asked as though amused by the very thought.
“Yes, please, Simon. Please.” Her words came out in desperate pants of air. She gripped his wrist, trying to force him to keep his hand and fingers where she needed them the most.
“Shall I remove my cravat, bind your hands, and lead you through the house in such a manner?” Simon mused.
Penelope let out a soft gasp at the very idea. “No…”
“Then you must behave yourself, mouse. If you are a good girl, I might allow you to climax before morning.”
A moan escaped her. “You can’t possibly mean to deny me. It’s too cruel…even for you.”
He laughed at the accusation. “I do mean it. You will recall the fact that I owe you several punishments after the events of this evening.” Tugging his hand free of her grip, Simon sat back against the seat as the coach came to a halt in front of Camden House and once again donned his formal gloves.
“Sit up, Lady Camden. I want you to pull your gown back into place and contain yourself until we are in the privacy of our bedchamber.”
Her fingers trembled as she obeyed him. Somehow, she composed her features into a semblance of calm while her cheeks burned like fire and her heart pounded with the force of thunder inside her chest.
When the footman opened the coach door, Simon descended first, then turned to help her step down. They were both silent as they made their way through the door that Williams, the butler, held open. Simon trailed behind her, his hand in the small of her back as he guided her inside.
“I shall not require your services tonight,” Simon said, addressing his valet, who had materialized in the central hallway.
“Certainly, sir,” Thompson said with a low bow, his visage untroubled by his master’s curt nature as he was dismissed for the evening.
“Inform Her Ladyship’s maid that she is not needed either. I shall see to my wife.”
Thompson nodded again. “Yes, milord.” The younger man disappeared from the foyer, his footsteps echoing as he hurried down the corridor on his mission to carry out Simon’s instructions.
Simon stayed close as he followed Penelope up the stairs, keeping his hand on her back and moving forward.
She wondered at his calm nature when she was so disoriented with lust that her knees wobbled as she navigated the steps.
The fire between her legs, the unresolved ache of unquenched desire, had her clenching her thighs together.
“Just a few more moments, mouse, until I can touch you as you need.” Catching up to her so that they walked side by side, he confessed in a low voice, “If we were alone, I would fuck you right here on these stairs.”
Penelope swallowed down a little cry, her heart rate spiking with his filthy words. God help her, how had he turned her into such a brazen, needy creature so quickly? She should still resist, considering his horrid treatment of her and his unexplained absences.
Reaching the top of the stairs, Simon turned Penelope down the corridor toward the master suite. Once inside their rooms, he encouraged her to slide into the chair of the vanity table.
Their reflections met in the mirror as Simon slowly drew her evening gloves off, one by one.
Tossing them aside, he moved behind her.
Resting his hands on the tops of her shoulders, his fingers splayed across until they grazed her collarbone.
With deliberate gentleness, he traced the delicate bones beneath her skin, the pads of his fingertips sending chills scattering to every nerve ending in her body.
“You are so damned beautiful, Penelope,” he murmured as he continued caressing her. “So beautiful and so enticingly innocent. It’s a combination I’ve tried to ignore for a very long time. Years, actually.”