Her Husband's Harlot (46 page)

"Yes,
that's it," Nicholas encouraged in a hoarse voice. "Rub your sweet pearl
for me."

Helena
sighed, leaning back against the ropes so she could
spread her legs further apart. Her hair fell from its remaining pins, becoming
fully undone. Silken strands spilled over her shoulders and tangled with the ropes.

"Tell
me what you are thinking, love, when you are playing with your delectable
pussy."

Helena's
pussy grew wetter at his command.

"I
am thinking of how good it feels when you do this," she admitted
obediently. "When you touch my pussy."

"What
else, love?" Passion made his voice deep and gravelly. "What else
makes your cunny so wet and glistening for me?"

Helena's
eyes closed as her breath puffed faster. The sparks were blending now into one blazing
line of fire that travelled from limb to limb. The touching felt good, but she
needed more. "I am thinking of when you kiss me here. When you ... use
your tongue, taste my cunny ..."

His
strong hands clamped on her thighs as he knelt before her. Relief mixed with
lust as she watched his dark head nudge between her legs. He kept his gaze
trained upward, drinking in her every reaction as he began to eat her. Slowly.
Voraciously.

"Oh,
yes, oh
please
..." Wild with need, Helena felt herself sinking
toward the floor.

"Hold
onto the ropes, sweet," Nicholas ordered thickly. "I want to feast
while you stand spread and open for me."

Wordlessly,
Helena gripped the rope. The prickly texture of the hemp abraded her palms as Nicholas
pleasured her. His tongue invaded her folds and slicked over her pearl repeatedly
as his fingers pumped her with firm, upward thrusts. She could not get enough
of the friction and ground herself against him. He groaned out endearments, hot
words of lust and love that released her from earthly moorings. She flew free in
an explosive, mind-blanking climax.

When
she opened her eyes, she was lying on the mats. Nicholas lay on his side next
to her. He grinned, pressing a soft kiss on her nose.

"You
are lovely, wife," he said.

 Helena
sighed, soaked to the bones in bliss. She trailed her fingers idly along the hard
contours of his chest. She smiled when the flat nipples hardened under her
touch. Nicholas caught her hand and brought it to his lips for a kiss.

"Your
turn," she said, wriggling provocatively against him.

He
rolled on top of her, his weight bearing her down deliciously into the mats. His
turgid sex brushed her damp curls, and a fresh wave of lust washed over her. "Are
you sure you are ready so soon, my love?"

In
answer, she wrapped her legs around his hips and impelled herself against his
cock. She heard Nicholas' strangled groan as the tip of his rod stretched her
as his fingers had, only more so. Thicker. Harder. Making her want more. She
wiggled further, frustrated when the weight of his hips prevented her from
deepening the penetration.

"Nicholas,
please," she panted, nipping his neck. "I need more of you."

With
a husky laugh, he rolled onto his back, bringing her on top of him. His sex
throbbed heavily against the curve of her buttocks.

"It
seems, impudent miss, that you wish to avail yourself of my rod." His obsidian
eyes flashed, and his smile belonged on a pirate. "Have a go, then."

Helena
tilted her head as she tried to construe his meaning.
"How should I ... you mean I get to ...?"

"For
as long as I can take it, my love."

As
understanding dawned, Helena experienced a most unladylike excitement. Her
husband uttered an oath as she grasped him in her hand and placed him exactly
where she wanted him to be. Unused to this position, she squirmed in her
efforts to take him inside. The wiggling served to heighten her desire, and she
hummed with pleasure when his cock slipped against her pearl. Their contact slickened;
she could hear the wet sounds of luscious rubbing.

"I
can't take much more of this." Nicholas' eyes were heavy-lidded, and his
jaw was tight. "Sweet, let me—oh, God,
yes
..."

His
hiss of pleasure melded with hers as she sank onto his pulsing shaft. Her eyes
closed as she filled herself with his masculine power. With her hands splayed
on his chest, she slid sensually upon him, slowly, a queen dictating her
passion. Her subject did not seem to mind. He took in her delight with
desire-slit eyes, issuing earthy words of encouragement all the while.

"How
hot you are." He shaped a breast in his palm, pinched the nipple gently
between his fingers. "Do you like riding astride, my wanton one?"

"I
love it," she breathed as she bounced upon his prick. "You are so
huge. You fill me completely ..."

He
liked that, she saw. His nostrils quivered. With a twitch of his hips, he thrust
upward at the same time she bore down. The intensity of the penetration
elicited a helpless cry from her. He repeated the motion, groaning as he did
so. He was so deep inside her, brushing up against her womb, her soul. She
began to shake. Tremors of pleasure emanated from her core and rippled down her
legs. She plunged upon him, harder and harder, desperate for the relief only he
could provide.

His
hands cupped her hips. At first, she thought he meant to dismount her, and she
clamped her knees firmly at his hips. He could not mean her to stop. She was so
close ...

He
chuckled darkly. "No need to panic, sweet. Lean forward a little. Yes,
like that."

When
she moved again, lightning pierced her insides. She moaned her approval of the
subtle adjustment, shimmying herself along this delicious new angle. Each
stroke rubbed her pearl and sparked bursts of pleasure. She moved with
increasing speed until the little bursts began to blur together. Then,
suddenly, it swept over her: a single white wave of blinding joy. At the same
instant, Nicholas shouted out, and she had the perfect ecstasy of his
fulfillment within her own.

   When
it was all over, Nicholas settled her to his side and collapsed heavily onto
the mats. His breathing was still ragged. "You have unmanned me."

Thoroughly
sated and pleased with herself, Helena asked, "Do you regret having a wife
who has uses for your manhood, my lord?"

"Never.
I shall endeavor to keep it up." With a sigh of pure contentment, Nicholas
pulled her into his arms. "You are the wife of my dreams, sweetheart, in
and out of bed."

"We
are not in a bed," his wife reminded him coyly.

"God
help me," he said, so fervently that she giggled.

"I
have a present for you," Helena said, her voice barely audible above the
clattering of the carriage wheels.

Nicholas
looked down at the elegantly coiffed head snuggled against his shoulder. He had
thought his wife asleep by the way her body swayed with the movement of the
carriage. They were returning from their first social outing since the birth of
the twins two months ago. The childbirth had not been an easy one—his forehead
prickled with sweat at the recollection—and he had insisted that she take a
full recuperation at the country estate. Last week, however, Helena had
declared herself fit for travelling. Unable to deny her anything, he had made
the necessary preparations, and they descended upon their London townhouse with
wet nurses and nannies in tow, just in time to catch the start of the Season.

He
had taken her to the Opera tonight, and he smiled, recalling her exuberance.
She had looked every inch the proper young marchioness in her sapphire gown,
pearls glowing at her neck and ears. The jewels had been outshone by the joy on
her face as she listened to the music with unfashionable absorption.

"How
can you possibly give me more than you already have, my love?" he murmured
against her sweet-smelling curls. "Scant sleep, endless feedings, slobbering
on every surface ... and that is only one of the scamps. What man could want
for more?"

His
wife giggled. "I do hope Thomas and Jeremiah behaved for Nurse this
evening. We have not been apart from them for so many hours before."

"I
have no doubt we will be greeted with remonstrations when we arrive home."
Nicholas' lips curved at the thought of chubby fists grasping determinedly at
his lapels and hair.

How
his life had changed.

The
day after the arrest of James Gordon, he had approached Kent with Helena at his
side. She had insisted upon accompanying him, upon being present as he lay open
his past. Truthfully, he might not have been able to do so without her hand in
his, her courage sustaining him as surely as her love. Kent had listened to the tale with the impassive expression of an officer. He had said
nothing as Nicholas spoke of stabbing Grimes, of the nameless boy who'd
witnessed it all and disappeared since.

At
the end of it, Kent had looked thoughtfully at him. The police man's clear eyes
seemed to probe the depths of his soul, yet this time Nicholas had not felt
afraid. He might always bear the scars of his past, but the demons had been
vanquished. They could hurt him no more.

"It
seems to me, my lord, that justice has been carried out by an authority far
greater than my own," Kent had said. "Flames can kill a man as well
as a blade; who are we to know what truly happened that night?" Relief had
flooded Nicholas as the investigator continued, "As to the boy, I will
make inquiries. I cannot promise to find him, however, for so many years have
passed, and we have less than a name to go on."

"Thank
you, Mr. Kent."

This
had been Helena speaking, for Nicholas had not been able to find the words. He
could only shake the police man's hand with a grip firmer than usual; Mr. Kent had responded with a slight inclination of his head. And that had been that.

Aye, once
he had not thought it possible to have all that was now his. Freedom from his
earlier life. A home filled with children and laughter. A wife who, even now,
was watching him with loving eyes.

He
ran his knuckles along her cheek.

"Did
you enjoy yourself tonight, love?" he asked.

 "Yes,
it was nice to have a change of scenery. And to escape our country house
guests," Helena added with a rueful smile. "You have borne my parents'
presence with remarkable grace, Nicholas."

"Who
would have thought Northgate a doting grandfather?" Nicholas mused.

Helena
sat up, her eyes large and luminous in the dim carriage. "You have been
all that is generous with Papa, and he is finally recognizing it. But, really,
dearest, we have more pressing matters to attend to. I am most looking forward
to giving you your present. It is our anniversary, you know."

"Sweet,
you are mistaken. We were wedded a year ago last month." Nicholas wagged
his brows. "Do not tell me you have forgotten our festivities already. If
so, I am losing my touch."

"That
is not the anniversary to which I am referring."

"What
other is there?" Nicholas asked, bemused.

In
answer, his wife began unbuttoning his greatcoat. Instantly, desire leapt to
life, and just as instantly, concern kept it at bay.

"Darling,"
he said, capturing her hands in his own. "Are you sure this is a good
idea? The doctor did say ..."

"Nicholas,"
his wife responded in exasperation, "do stop fretting. I am fine, I assure
you." She tugged her hands free from his one by one, and the familiar
glint in her eyes sent his pulse galloping. "However, I cannot guarantee I
will remain fine if I am deprived of my wifely rights much longer."

"Your
wifely rights?" Nicholas could not help but chuckle. The chuckle became a
strangled groan as his dexterous spouse pushed aside his thick woolen outer
garment and started working on the buttons of his waistcoat.

He
closed his eyes, feeling his cock swell. "Are you complaining about my recent
lovemaking then?"

With alarming
ease, she sank onto the floor of the carriage. She tossed aside her wrapper, baring
the pale, rounded tops of her breasts to his greedy gaze. Settling onto her
knees, she set to work on his trouser buttons.

"Of
course I am not complaining. You are always most gentle and adept, my lord."

He
clenched his teeth, feeling himself grow harder and longer from the pressure of
her industrious fingers. His floundering self-control received a serious blow
from her next words.

"You
know how I love it when you eat my pussy. The feel of your tongue when it slips
inside me—I come for you every time, Nicholas."

Nicholas
growled in desperation. "When we arrive home, I shall pleasure you all night,
all morning, if it comes to that."

But
Helena shook her head, her eyes sultry as she tugged open another button. He
grunted when her fingers brushed the bulbous head of his sex. The traitorous organ
nudged back with interest.

"Tonight,
I want more than your mouth, my darling," she whispered. She popped
another button free. Her breath caressed the length of his rigid pole. "I
need to have this beautiful, colossal cock deep inside me."