Chapter 26
Lucy sat at the dressing table, a small looking glass propped up as she removed the last of her hair pins. She was sitting in her plain white shift with a pink ribbon tying the neck. Robert had retired to the dressing room to undress after having loosened her stays and once she had removed his boots. They had chosen not to have servants. This was their moment and servants seemed inappropriate in the afternoon.
But now as she looked at the tangle of red waves, she regretted the decision.
“May I brush your hair?” Robert was standing in just breeches in the doorway. He looked down. “I thought coming in completely naked was a little umm, presumptuous.”
“I am your wife.”
“Well it still seemed as though it may be off-putting or frightening or something.”
“We have established that I am not a virgin, Robert.” He held his hand out for the brush. “I do however understand what you mean, and I appreciate the gesture, however unnecessary. I would not have swooned at the sight of you without clothes.”
He was brushing through her hair and it was wonderful after the way her maid had set it into a beautiful coiffure this morning, curling and scraping it up her head. She had a pile of pins on the dressing table and her head hurt. But the style had been beautiful for a bride.
“I considered leaving it up in bed. Bessie did such a beautiful job of my hair this morning. It seems such a shame to waste it.”
“It was not wasted. You were the prettiest bride I have ever seen but I like running my hands through your hair. It is so silky. Seeing you with your hair down arouses me.”
“It does?”
“Mmm.”
He had brushed through all her hair. Of course, it was not as thorough a brushing as a maid would give it but it would do for now. “That is fine.”
She turned a quarter turn on the stool, took the brush and laid it on the dressing table then urged him to stand in front of her. Then she started to undo the falls of his breeches.
“Darling what are you…” She reached in and took his hard length in one hand as she tweaked the rest of the buttons, allowing his breeches to gape and begin a slow descent of his legs. “Really, Lucy you do not have to… uh!” As her lips circled the head of his prick, Robert gave up any protest and simply speared his fingers into Lucy’s hair. “Just for a moment,” he muttered.
She moved her mouth up and down, taking him as deep as possible. Robert threw his head back and rocked his hips slightly. He tasted salty and a little musky. She enjoyed the noises of pleasure he made, the slight sting in her scalp as he gripped her hair and the knowledge that he wanted to thrust deeper and harder but was holding himself back. No matter how much pleasure he wanted for himself, he cared for her comfort. But she was eager to find out more. What else would he allow her to do? She took the base of his length in her hand and opened her mouth licking the underside of the head, then down the length.
When she reached the bottom, she lifted the sac there, fingering it and the balls inside. Robert growled. “Lucy.”
When she licked one and then covered it with her mouth, he held his breath. She swirled her tongue around it, but he did not tell her to stop so she did it to the other one. Robert’s breathing was shallow and almost pained when she licked back up the length of his shaft. His abdominal muscled were rigid.
“Is this…” she began to ask.
“Get on the bed.” His voice was brusque and demanding. “Now Lucy.” He stepped back from her, making an almost courtly gesture towards the bed. Lucy hurried over to the large mahogany four-poster bed and climbed on top as Robert removed his breeches and stalked over to her. “Good God, Lucy are we consummating this marriage with you in that shift?”
Lucy looked at him, naked and thunderous. Oh, she was not having this. She was not going to be some cowering subservient wife. She folded her arm across her chest.
“We are not consummating our marriage at all until we have talked.”
“About what? My prick is due to explode. You sucked it and my ballocks like the best London courtesan and now you have become all missish on me. Take that damned thing off.”
“Is that why you are in such a foul mood suddenly? I behaved like a whore? I was only experimenting. Exploring. I thought…” She turned away from him, tugging at the bedcovers, feeling as if getting underneath them would hide her shame.
“What? No. I am not in a foul mood. I am… Oh! Oh, devil take it. Lucy.”
She heard his footsteps as he padded around the bed and then he was face to face with her. She saw his concerned face through her tears.
“This has been a mistake, has it not?”
“No, my love. Never a mistake. I am not in a foul mood. I am an earl. I have a staff and servants and I bark orders at people and they obey me. It is worse if I am… well frustrated or excited… or aroused. I should not have been like that with you, but I lost my damned mind. You are a naturally sexual woman. You have an innate ability to please a man. Your explorations were well received. No woman has ever done that to me, but it was wonderful.”
“If no one has ever done it, mayhap I should not.”
“You can kiss or suck any part of my body you wish, my love.”
“The same goes for you. But Robert…”
“Mmm?”
“The reason Lord Byron is in Italy now. What he did to his wife. Having sex with her at the back. I don’t think I would like that.”
“You’ve been thinking about this a lot?” Lucy nodded. “I did say that I have no desire to try it myself. I have not changed my mind. I do however apologise for being an aristocratic idiot. Can you forgive me?”
She smiled then. “Of course.”
Suddenly he stood, tugged at the covers, threw them aside and climbed onto the high bed, insinuating himself between her legs.
He leaned his elbows either side of her and grinned.
“So, it looks as if we are doing this with the chemise on.” He bent his head and captured her nipple through the cotton garment.
“Robbie,” she giggled.
“Mmm!” He was sucking hard and soaking the fabric. It was wonderful.
“I can take it off.”
“Take what off,” he asked as he changed breasts.
“My chemise.” His fingers had moved up her leg and had found her centre. Lucy tugged on the ribbon of her chemise and tried to pull her arms out of the garment. The movement dislodged Robert from her breast.
“How is a man supposed to seduce his wife if she is squirming and wriggling like this,” he grumbled.
“I am trying to pull it down, so they are bare for you.”
“We are going for some waist covering garment now?”
“Robert, stop being difficult.”
“I’m being difficult? God’s teeth, woman, lift your arse.” She blinked at him. Arse? She presumed he meant her bottom. She dug her heels into the bed, lifting her behind and he pulled the chemise up to her waist. “Now sit up.” She obeyed, and he tugged the chemise over her head, rolled it into a ball and threw it across the bedchamber. “Damned thing,” he muttered. She lay back and he sat back.
“Are you in a better mood now?” she asked. He could be quite unpredictable. He sat back on his heels and palmed his hard prick. She liked thinking of it in such vulgar terms in her head. It made her feel warm inside, especially down in the most secret place. He placed his finger on her aforementioned secret place and stroked.
“You’re wet already. It is as if you are prepared for me.” Lucy bit her lip and looked away a blush warming her cheeks. “Lucy? Why are you embarrassed?”
She stole a glance at him.
“All day, since… since the church.”
“What were you thinking of in the church?”
“The cave behind the waterfall.” Embarrassment gave way to indignation. “Well, the minister did go on. That was a terribly long sermon. And my mind wandered a little.”
“And it wandered to me licking you here?” He stroked her, just at the top where she was most sensitive.
“Oh God, yes.”
“How very irreligious of you, wife.”
Her face was on fire now, but Robert was grinning. He bent forward and positioned his cock at her entrance.
“There will be much slow love making over the evening, wife, but for now, I need to take you hard and fast. You cannot tell a man you were day-dreaming in church of his face pressed against your cunny and not expect him to be on the edge of sanity.”
His lips met hers as he pressed into her. He met no resistance. She was slick and ready for him. She lifted her feet onto his back and he sank further into her with a grunt of approval.
She sighed with relief. She needed this. His lips covered hers and she opened her mouth to allow his tongue entrance. He moved his hips, increasing the speed within a few strokes.
Lucy held onto his shoulders and rocked her hips against him, kissing back until she had to move her mouth away to breath.
“Robbie!” she gasped. He felt perfect as he slid in and out of her. She never wanted this feeling to stop. Yet somehow she needed relief from the tension he was building in her. And still she craved more. She thought her mind might explode like a firing pistol with the confusion of sensations.
“Am I hurting you, love,” he asked, his eyes full of concern.
“No, it’s wonderful. I need to… I wish… this is too…”
He chuckled “I agree,” he said as he pushed his hands under her bottom, changing the angle and pushing deeper into her. He peppered kisses along her jaw and down her neck.
His thrust sped up again. “Robbie I can’t…”
He lifted his head and kissed her gently on the cheek. “I love that my prick inside you makes you so inarticulate. I love you Lucy Beresford.”
He uncurled her hands from around his neck and placed them above her head on the pillow. Again this changed the position. She arched her back and he groaned.
“Oh!” was all Lucy could manage. She was near the edge.
“Dammit, I shan’t last.” Instinct made her uncurl her legs from his back and dig her heels into the mattress holding her position and allowing him to thrust hard into her. “You may kill me, woman,” Robert muttered as he dropped his head into the crook of her neck and thrust even harder. That was when a wave of pleasure so strong washed through Lucy that she thought she was in danger of swooning. She bucked under Robert and she heard some muttered curses and then the warmth of his seed inside her. Her internal muscles milked his prick as he slowed his thrusts. He collapsed onto his back on the mattress, pulling her against his chest as he did so. His breathing was ragged, and she ran her fingers down his damp chest.
“I love you too, Robert Beresford.”
“Don’t you dare tell anyone else I love you. They will think I have become some sort of damned poet.”
“Like George Byron?”
He marched his fingers over her hip and onto the cheek of her bottom.
“Robert, you would not!”
He chuckled, grabbing her hand and kissing the palm. “Never without your consent, my love.”
“Robert?”
“Hmm?”
“Are you very tired?”
“No. Why do you ask?”
“I want to do it again.”
“So do I.”
She looked down at his prick, giving it a little prod with her finger. It was soft and it just flopped away from her. Her disappointment must have shown on her face.
“You know he needs recovery time. I told you before. But I’m happy to clean between your thighs in the meantime… with my tongue” He rolled her onto her back again and kissed down her belly until he got to the triangle of hair just above her most intimate place. He blew on it gently before he lifted her bottom and began to lick, suck and nibble at her until she thought she may have found heaven.