Chapter Seventeen
“What?” Primrose jerked into a sitting position on the sofa.
Refusing to plow a beautiful, naked woman wasn’t high on Andrew’s list of preferred activities, especially when he was kneeling between her thighs. He had a perfect view of temptation: her hair cascaded over her creamy shoulders, her full pink nipples playing peek-a-boo through the strands. His gaze dropped to her little blonde nest, dewy from his recent frigging. Even as his cock strained toward all that bounty, his brain reminded him that this wasn’t just any woman.
This was Primrose.
She deserved better than a meaningless fuck.
And so, he realized, did he.
He didn’t fool himself into thinking that a permanent future was possible for them. She’d been clear about the respectability she needed, and he knew the limits of what he could offer. Even so, he couldn’t turn his mind from the possibility of them… together. Before, when she was unwed, he wouldn’t have considered it, but things had changed. She was a widow now—and would have the title and status she so craved, once he helped her with her “problem.”
She would also have freedom.
The notion roused both anticipation and unease. Undoubtedly, Primrose would soon have packs of men sniffing at her heels. Her origins and reputation might have rendered her ineligible as a wife in some men’s eyes—but those same men would have no compunction pursuing her as a lover now that she was widowed and fair game. And with her youth and passionate nature, she’d eventually want companionship.
His muscles bunched at the idea of Primrose taking a lover. If anyone was going to make love to her, it was damned well going to be him. An affair wasn’t what he wanted, but he would take what he could get.
He wanted Primrose. More than he’d ever wanted anything.
Which meant he had to play his cards right. He had full confidence in his ability to do so. If there was any game he knew how to play, it was that of seduction.
“But I thought you were going to help me!” she cried.
“I am.” A plan unfolded in his head. To prevent her from rising, he clamped his hands on her thighs. The sight of the frilly black garters against her pale skin tested his resolve, but he said calmly, “I’m going to do it my way, however.”
“And what way is that?” Her glorious eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“This way, love.” His hands slid to her bottom, tipping her up, and he bent his head.
“What are you…?” she gasped, “No, you mustn’t! That’s not clean, that’s—oh, heavens…”
His first taste of her pussy fired his blood. Sweet and feminine with a hint of salt, the reality of her was even better than his fantasies. He hid a smile as her protests melted into shapeless moans. As her superficial primness dissolved, revealing the hot, passionate woman within.
He ate her cunny with the hunger he’d suppressed for weeks. Spreading her petals, he tongued her slit up and down before circling her entrance. When she was moaning, her hands gripping the cushions, he slid the tip of his middle finger into her hole.
Goddamn, she was tight. Exquisitely so. But she was also slick from his licking and her earlier climax; when he saw no sign of pain from her, he pushed in until he was knuckle-deep.
She gasped his name.
“All right, love?”
“Yes… yes…” She looked dazed with desire.
He added another finger and stirred in a motion that would remove any flimsy barrier that might mark her as virgo intacto. He thrust firmly, simulating the fucking of a cock, sweat gathering beneath his collar as her pussy gripped his digits with lush insistence. Devil and damn, to feel that snug heat sheathed around his prick…
Her thighs trembled, her head lolling against the back of the sofa. He could feel her crisis approaching; it would be so easy to free his throbbing erection and bury himself inside her. To give in to the desire that raged between them. Lust warred with rationality: he reminded himself that, for her, desire had a purpose, a goal.
And that goal isn’t you… not unless you convince her otherwise.
After one last thrust that pushed a moan from her lips, he pulled out.
Her head popped up, her cheeks flushed and breathing uneven. “Why did you…”
“That should take care of your maidenhead,” he told her. “There’s no bleeding, so I suspect yours might have already been dispatched by horse-riding or the like. That’s common for young ladies, you know.”
From her blank look, she didn’t.
He rose, plucking up her chemise. “I’ll help you get dressed. You’ve been here too long already.”
“But don’t you want to…finish?” She wetted her lips, looking so disappointed that he was sorely tempted to do just that. “I don’t mind if you want to. That is, I came fully prepared to…”
“Lie with me?” he said mildly.
Her head bobbed, and damn if the little minx didn’t sneak a look at his groin. To be fair, that part of his anatomy did command attention. The bulge strained the placket of his trousers, stretching the grey wool to dangerous proportions; only excellent tailoring—and steely self-control—held him in check.
“I know this was a favor for me,” she said haltingly, “but I had assumed that you would gain some pleasure out of it too. Now it all seems rather… one-sided.”
“Do you want me to make love to you, Primrose?” he said evenly.
She bit her lip. “I think… I do.”
Her aching whisper almost undermined his resolve. Almost.
“Let me know when you are certain.” Pulling her to her feet, he said casually, “Arms up, sweetheart.” Looking adorably befuddled, she obeyed, and he pulled the chemise over her head. He followed with her corset, deftly tying the laces. “And let me be clear: there is only one circumstance under which I’ll make love to you.”
Her brow puckered. “What circumstance is that?”
“When I take you, it won’t be a one-time affair. It won’t be because you have to rid yourself of your virginity or because you’re simply curious about being bedded. It won’t even be because you trust me to make the experience good for you.”
“Pray tell, what reason would move you?” she said with a touch of tartness.
“I’ll make love to you when you want me,” he said. “When you can’t stop thinking about me kissing you, touching you, my cock filling your sweet pussy.” He noted with satisfaction her deep blush and flaring pupils and gave her corset a final tug. “I’ll make love to you when you admit I’m the only man who can give you what you need.”
“Rather sure of yourself, aren’t you?” Her voice had a breathy edge.
He buttoned up her gown and set her bonnet on her head. “I’m honest. When you’re ready to be, send word to me.” He twitched the veil in place over her astonished face. “Do us both a favor, sunshine: don’t keep me waiting.”