Simply Sinful (14 page)

Abby leaned back against him, her head on his chest, her feet falling limply to the ground.

“Now I feel like sitting and staring at the swans for a long while.”

He lifted her slightly and withdrew, then buttoned his breeches. He pressed his handkerchief between her legs and sat her beside him.

“Did you know that swans mate for life?”

Abby glanced up at his serene face. What had he looked like when he climaxed? Had he looked as desperate as she had felt? She stared at the lake.

“Did you mention the swans to remind me that I have betrayed my wedding vows?”

He glanced down at her. “Why do you assume that every remark I make to you is meant to provoke an argument?”

Abby got up and smoothed her wrinkled skirts down over her shaking legs. “Perhaps because I have no experience in the kind of romantic talk that goes on between a lady and her lover.”

“I’m glad about that.” Peter stood up and looked down at her.

“Glad that I argue with you all the time instead of sigh over your fine manly features and the cut of your coat?”

He smiled slowly, his blue eyes narrowing with amusement. “Yes, because I find it deeply refreshing.”

She laid her hand on his arm and stood, and they turned toward the kitchen gardens on the west side of the house.

“As I told you before, I have grown tired of the posturing and falseness of the
ton.
I enjoy the opportunity to be with someone who is honest and forthright.”

“You mean you have run out of pretty things to say.”

He frowned. “Perhaps you are right. The insincerity no longer sits well with me.”

“So I should continue to be as honest and assertive as I like with you?”

He kissed her hand, his expression solemn. “My lady, that would be delightful.”

10

“I
s this message really so urgent that my business partner had to almost kill you and your horse to get it here?”

“Apparently, sir.”

“Thank you, then.” Peter nodded at the mud-spattered man in front of him. “Go and get yourself something to eat and drink in the kitchen while I see if this letter needs a reply.”

Without speaking, Abigail led the way out of the great hall and into the study. Peter followed, his thoughts in a whirl. She handed him a paper knife and he ripped through the wax seal of the letter.

“What the devil does Valentin want now? And how did he know where to find me?”

“Did you write to him?”

Peter paused. “I wrote to his wife and I used your family seal on the wax. Perhaps he got the information from Sara.” He bent his head to scan the letter.

It appeared that his idyllic two weeks with Abigail were about to be ruined. The message was short and followed by Valentin’s scrawled signature and private seal. He looked over the top of the paper at Abigail.

“Lord Sokorvsky insists I meet him at our Southampton office this weekend.”

“Does he say why?”

“Only that it concerns a matter of great personal significance.”

Peter stared at the letter. What on earth did Val mean? Was something wrong with Sara or was this simply Val’s latest attempt to force him into a confrontation? He frowned. Still, it was unlike Val to go to such lengths without a good reason.

“At least that gets me out of going to London.”

Peter snapped his attention back to Abigail.

“No, it doesn’t. You have already agreed to meet James with me. You can come to Southampton first and then on to London.”

“What if I don’t wish to do that?”

“Why would you not?”

Abigail placed the knife back into the desk drawer and slammed it shut. She walked away from him, arms crossed over her chest.

“We have had a perfect two weeks. Why not end it now?”

His gut tightened as he studied her defensive posture. “Do you really think I am ready to leave you?”

She turned, her chin high in the air, her smile deliberately bright. “I have proved an apt pupil for your lessons. Perhaps this is merely a preconceived ruse to ensure your escape.”

He stared at her, unaccustomed anger rising through his carefully constructed layers of politeness. “You really do have a low opinion of yourself, don’t you.”

She whipped off her spectacles. “What on earth do you mean?”

He shrugged. “So ready to believe I would walk away from you at the first opportunity I get, everything between us unfinished.”

Her hands balled into fists. “Why wouldn’t you? Everyone else has.”

He held her gaze, noticed the hint of tears in her eyes and sighed.

“Because we agreed to be honest with each other. If I wanted to leave, I would tell you.” He held out the letter. “Read it yourself. Make sure I’m not deceiving you and then tell me how I can ignore such a plea from my oldest friend and not hurt you in the process.”

She walked back toward him, took the letter from his outstretched hand and dropped it behind her on the desk. Briefly he considered ducking as she squared up to him.

“Perhaps I should go to Southampton with you and then on to London to meet James?”

He let out a breath he’d been unaware he was holding. She was truly magnificent. “What an excellent idea.”

Peter dismounted from his horse and swiped at the driving rain that obscured his vision. A moment later, the Beecham carriage rattled through the arched entrance into the malodorous inner courtyard. The nearest door of the carriage half opened, and a small booted foot appeared. Peter hurried to the aid of James’s cousin Trixie, who descended from the carriage with a speed and agility that defied her sixty-two years of age. Cousin Trixie lived at Beecham Hall and had been thrilled to be whisked away on an adventure with Abigail.

A servant hurried up with an umbrella and escorted a chattering Miss Trixie inside the Dolphin Inn. Peter remained to help Abigail down the steps.

“Be careful, my lady. It is still raining quite hard.”

Abigail wrinkled her nose as she took in her dismal surroundings and allowed him to hurry her inside. To his relief, the landlady awaited them in the narrow hall. She curtsied, muttered about the weather and offered hot rum. Abigail visibly perked up and headed for the stairs, chattering animatedly as she ascended.

Despite its depressing exterior, the inn was small but clean, the ceilings low and warped with age. Peter inhaled the welcoming scent of lavender and hops, bumped his head on the low doorway and hissed a curse. It took him but a moment to settle Miss Trixie into the room that should have been his and place his bags in the one adjoining Abigail’s.

He knocked on the connecting door and found Abigail warming her hands by the fire, her bonnet laid out to dry on the table.

“I advised Miss Trixie to eat in her room tonight and ordered her a fine dinner. We shouldn’t be disturbed.”

She turned to smile at him. Her damp hair curled around her face and her cheeks were flushed. “Cousin Trixie is a dear. She told me not to worry about Lady Amelia finding out anything about you and me.”

“You told her about us?”

“I told her nothing. She imagines she is aiding a tragic love affair. She is an incredible romantic at heart and has always wished me well.”

“You deserve a love affair, Abigail.” He kissed her mouth, found her lips were still cold.

She laughed, and the sound made him want to smile right back at her.

“Not a tragic one, I hope. I’m not the kind of woman who dreams of dying in the arms of her one true love or contemplates throwing herself off a cliff.”

“I’m glad to hear it. What a horrible mess to clean up.” He kissed her again and gestured at the door that linked their suites. “After our dinner, I’m going to take off the rest of these wet clothes and have a bath. Do you care to join me?”

“In the bath?”

“If you wish.”

She studied him, her teeth worrying her lower lip. “I would like that.”

He smiled as his anticipation rose along with his cock. “So would I.”

By the time he was immersed in the bath, Abigail perched on the side, clad in his dressing gown, a glass of brandy in one hand and an apple in the other. He grinned up at her.

“Come into the water.”

“There does not seem to be much room.”

“There is plenty of room if you straddle me.”

She let the dressing gown drop to the floor. His throat closed up at the sight of her luscious body leaning over him, the glimpse of her sex as she climbed into the bath, the slight sway of her breasts against his face.

His stiff cock slid against her belly as she settled herself over him. He handed her a washcloth and almost purred when she began to rub it slowly over his chest. He closed his eyes to enjoy the sensation more. When was the last time someone had cared for him with such gentleness? He and Val had tended each other’s wounds in the brothel but that was different.

“Peter, when you go to bed with James, how exactly do you manage?”

“Manage what?”

He opened one eye and regarded her. Stupid of him to think she would let him enjoy the moment without another infernal question. She blushed furiously, her gaze fixed on the movement of the washcloth in her hand.

“Ah, you mean how do James and I make love?” He slid lower in the water, bringing her breasts closer to his mouth and licked her nipple.

“Men do not have the same equipment as a woman.”

Peter tried not to laugh at her prim tone as he slid his hand around the curve of her bottom. He’d learned she hated not to know everything.

“Men have some of the same orifices as a woman, just not as many.” He slid one well-soaped finger past the tight bud of her anus. “I take James here and in my mouth.”

She wriggled closer so he suckled her breasts for a while and added another finger, his thumb circling her clit as she moved sensuously against him. Water lapped at his chest and trickled over the sides of the bath to the floor.

“Can you take a woman like that?”

He opened his eyes fully and stared into hers. “Yes, with patience and time.” He scissored his fingers inside her. “I’ve already begun to prepare you to take my cock there, haven’t you noticed?” He returned to her hard nipples, biting and licking them until she moaned with each deliberate flick of his tongue.

Three fingers now, the most he’d ever pushed inside her. He kissed her mouth, brought his other hand down to her sex. His aching cock rubbed against her belly. “When James and I take you together, you’ll need to be ready.”

“Take me together?”

“Of course. Isn’t that what you want? Two men pleasuring you with their hands, their mouths and their cocks?”

She climaxed unexpectedly against his fingers, her teeth biting into his lip until he tasted his own blood. With a groan he lifted her up and over his shaft, brought her down in one long stroke and pumped hard into her soft willing flesh.

Before she finished shuddering, he lifted her out of the bath and laid her on the bed, her legs spread wide, his shoulders between them. He grabbed a drying cloth from the stack beside the bath. Using the corner of the rough fabric, he carefully dried her sex. As he worked, her hips moved restlessly on the covers and cream flowed to glisten on the plump rose-red folds of her pussy.

He nudged her clit with his nose, licked her from front to back in an endless lap of pleasure until her hand fisted in his wet hair, driving him on or holding him back he could no longer tell.

“I never thought to have you both.”

He lifted his head to look at her. Her damp hair fanned out on the pillows and her nipples were still hard from his mouth. He climbed on the bed and crawled over her, his wet hair patterning her skin with water, his cock adding a thicker pool of pre-cum on her stomach.

“How did you think I would teach James how to appreciate your body and give you pleasure?”

“I thought he would watch, while you…” She waved a hand at his groin.

“While I fucked you? Sometimes he might watch and sometimes I might watch him.” He bent to brush a kiss against her lips. “But mainly we will be making love to you together.” She shivered and he paused, all his concentration on her face. “Does that displease you?”

She opened her eyes. “No, it doesn’t displease me at all.” She touched his cheek. “You will not let him hurt me.”

“Trust me, after I’ve shown him the error of his ways, he will be incapable of hurting a hair on your head.”

“It’s really not all my fault, is it?”

He kissed her again, groaned as his aching cock slid against her slick skin. “I told you it wasn’t. James simply needs to learn how to bring out the best in you. If I can do it, he can too.”

“But what if he doesn’t want to?”

“Abigail, he does. Why else would we be here like this together if he didn’t intend to try to give you a child?”

She bit her lip as she considered him. He braced himself for another round of questions.

“Do you like it when James makes love to you?”

“Aye, and you will too, I assure you.”

“He doesn’t hurt you?”

“No and he won’t hurt you either, I promise.”

Her fingers trailed down his chest and he froze in place over her, his breathing as uneven as hers. She stroked his cock and he groaned.

“Can you show me how it might feel?”

“How what might feel?”

“Having another man inside me.”

He blinked hard, struggled to find the discipline that had seen him through a thousand sexual encounters and realized it had deserted him. He stared down at her, the directness of her gaze made his cock swell even more.

“If you wish.”

He got off the bed and prowled the room looking for something suitable to introduce her to the pleasures of anal play. He pinched out the flame of one of the slender tallow candles on the mantelpiece and pulled it free of the candelabra. He smoothed the cylinder of wax with his fingertips. Not too thick or too long but firm enough not to break when he slid it inside her.

He turned back to the bed where she had raised herself up on one elbow and watched him intently. He fought a smile. Abigail would always want to know exactly what was going on and have a thousand questions to ask whilst he did whatever she required.