Regency Society Collection Part 1. Sarah Mallory
could feel how hard he was, even through the fabric.
She wrapped her legs around him, tangling in the sheet and rocking, letting the linen rub against them, as he reached to play with her breasts, cupping them with his hands, stroking and pulling at the nipples. And then he caught one of her hands, bringing it to his mouth to suck on the fingers and kiss the knuckles and the palm. At last, he whispered, ‘If you would be so kind.’ Then he led it down his body, over his chest and stomach, until it rested between his legs under the sheet.
She understood what he wanted, for she had often had to help her husband, before he was able to perform. But Anthony was not in obvious need of help. He was long and hard and ready, and he sucked in his breath when her hand touched him, and gritted his teeth in a smile.
She stroked him, running her hand along the smooth flesh and tightening around it, and he trembled next to her. She kissed his lips and bit his throat, and worked her way down his chest to explore his nipples with her tongue, tasting salt and feeling his gasps as her grasp grew stronger and longer and faster. She ran her other hand over his body, feeling the muscles tighten and his back arch as he grew near to climax and her own body grew wet and heavy, and eager to know his first thrust inside of her.
And when she knew it could not be much longer, she reached to pull the sheet out of the way so that they could join. But he held fast to it.
Did he mean to come without her, as she had without him the night before? She had thought, the way he looked at her, that he had wanted more from her than this. Was it the woman he said he loved that kept him from completing the act with her? Her stroke faltered.
‘Tony?’
‘Just a moment, darling.’ His words came between groans. ‘Just a little while longer.’
‘I must ask—’
‘After, please. Anything.’
‘But I need to know—’
‘Constance, I am dying,’ he begged. ‘Finish what you have started.’
She stilled her hand, holding him in a loose grip, and said, ‘Is there some reason that you cannot crawl beneath the sheet and finish yourself?’
He said through gritted teeth, ‘I thought that would be obvious. I do not want to get you with child.’
She yanked her hand from his body and rolled away, turning her back to him and wrapping herself in the bed linens. ‘Get out.’
He laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, and his voice was unsteady. ‘I am sorry to be so selfish. You have needs as well and I should think of my lady before myself. But I have been able to think of nothing but your hand on me for the whole day…’
She shivered in the bed and wrapped the sheet even tighter around herself. ‘I can see to my own needs from now on.’
‘Constance,’ he whispered. ‘What is the matter?’
When she tried to speak, it felt as though her throat were full of tears. ‘You know what is the matter. How could you say that? I trusted you. And how could you hurt me so? To use such an excuse to avoid making love, when you must know as well as the rest of the world that I have been barren for thirty years. Producing a child will not be at issue. If you have a distaste for me, or for the act, or if there is another woman, can you at least tell me the truth? Do you think me a fool?’
‘Constance.’ He pulled her to him, so that she could feel him, still hard, and pressing against her from behind. Then he rested his head against her shoulder, so that he might speak in her ear. ‘I do not think you foolish. But I think that you have been told for so long that there is a deficiency in you that you believe it yourself. Now, answer me honestly. Have you ever lain with a man, other than your husband?’
‘No, of course not. How could you say such a thing?’
‘How old was he when you married?’
‘He was almost two score.’
‘And you were just out of the schoolroom, were you not?’
‘Well, yes.’
‘And did he have mistresses?’
She never liked to think of such things. But there had been the scent of strange perfume, and the occasional trace of rouge on his cravat, although she wore none.
‘Constance?’
‘Yes. There were other women.’
‘But no rumours of bastards?’
‘No.’ The thoughts that she had never dared think, when Robert was alive, mingled with the doubts.
‘Did you ever have to dismiss a chambermaid for getting herself in trouble? And I do not mean for carelessness with the silver.’
‘No.’
‘So your husband had no children when he married you, and in the last fifteen years he lay with several women, without issue. While you were only with him.’ He placed a hand negligently on her hip. ‘I told you before, Constance, I am not prone to gambling. But I’ll wager, if we are careless and lower this sheet, you are liable to find that the problem was not yours, much to your regret.’
Regret? He must be mad. Awareness flooded her. Tony was young and strong and hard. Virile. And he wanted her, as much as she wanted him. If there was a chance, even the slightest chance, that she could ever hold a babe…She yanked the sheet out of his hand and turned to face him, wrapping her legs around his body so that his sex could rest against her.
She kissed him, and rubbed her body against his, urging him to do what she knew he wanted to.
And he muttered, ‘You are not thinking clearly, Constance. God knows, I can hardly think at all. Now give me back the sheet before I do something that we may rue later.’ But he did not push her away.
‘Take me, Tony,’ she murmured. ‘I do not care. Take me, now.’ And she reached between them to guide him into her body.
He took a long breath and stayed her hand. ‘I must be mad to stop you. A moment. Please.’
There was a pause as he tried to remember what it was he wanted to say. ‘You may not care now. But no child of mine shall be a bastard. If I am right and there is a consequence to this act, do you swear to me that you will tell me, and accept the next time I offer for you?’
‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘Now, do it.’
Still he waited, and he was trembling with the effort. ‘There will be no fuss from you about my low birth, or my chosen profession, no nonsense about not knowing my family or my past. You will marry me without question, and follow where I lead.’
‘Yes, Tony,’ she panted. ‘Yes, now just do it, before it is too late.’
And he rolled over her, thrust into her, shuddered and collapsed.
She held him close and smiled into his shoulder, at the feel of him filling her, the thought of his seed inside her, and the idea that she might not be dead inside after all.
He raised himself up on his arms to look down into her eyes. ‘Woman, you are mad to be smiling at me. That was a pathetic effort on my part. I had hoped for so much more from our first true meeting. To leave you satisfied at least. But to so totally lose control of myself…’
‘It was fine,’ she assured him. ‘I am just so glad that we were not too late.’
‘Too late for what, sweet?’
‘You almost did it without being within me. I had hoped that it would happen this evening. And it would be a shame if I had missed it.’
He was staring at her in a most unusual way. And he muttered, ‘You husband was quite a bit older than you. Well, I suppose…’
And then he moved against her, to stroke inside her. ‘I think, my darling, that if you thought that was to be an isolated incident, there