The Importance of Being Alice (28 page)

She planted her lips right on his, pressing herself against him.

Secure in the knowledge that Elliott loved me, I ignored Deidre and went to Laura, giving her a little hug and telling her how nice it was to see her. “Although I'm surprised at your choice of companion,” I told her, nodding toward Deidre.

She made an exasperated face. “You wouldn't believe the fuss she made when she found out who Elliott really was. Lord Ainslie, I should say. I suppose I should call you Lady Ainslie, too.”

“Pfft. He's Elliott, I'm Alice, and you really are a friend, although not an old one.” I took her around the room and introduced her to Elliott's brothers, sister, and mother before sitting down with her on a small sofa. “So, tell me, how are things in Windsor?”

“Oh, you know, much the same as ever.” She waited a moment until Deidre, with her usual style, dominated the conversation in the room, and then said, “Elliott looks well. Has he recovered from his accident?”

“He has, thankfully.”

“You must be dreading the thought of him going out on more . . . assignments.”

I shifted uncomfortably. The truth was, I'd been meaning to bring that subject up to Elliott, but the time never seemed to be right. “I will admit that I'm hoping he's going to hang up that particular hat now that we're
married. I mean, most spies don't like to have families, do they? They're always used against them in movies.”

“Very definite pressure points.” Laura nodded. “He must have an especially effective security system here in order to protect himself and his family.”

“I think so,” I said slowly. “The windows and doors are all wired up to a system, and you have to punch in a code to turn it on and off, so there's that. But I don't think he's overly worried that he'll be attacked here. I mean, there's lots of people around. He has oodles of brothers and sisters, some of whom live and work here, while others drop by for periods when they need a break, or just want to visit.”

“And there are servants,” Laura said, her gaze going around the room. “Their presence must reassure you.”

I looked over at Marie, one of two daughters of Franklin the groundskeeper. Marie served as daily help—doing some cooking and a little light cleaning of the family's rooms, while her sister, Anne, kept the public rooms tidy. For the Ainslie Experience, I'd promised Marie a bonus in her salary if she helped serve the drinks and meals. She agreed, although she demanded a sexy serving wench outfit for the costumed evenings.

Elliott had told me that although the castle had, in times past, engaged more than a hundred servants, now they mostly did for themselves. It helped that many of the rooms where closed up, the furniture covered, and only aired once a year in summer, when any signs of decay were noted.

“Yes,” I said slowly, wondering how Marie in a wench costume was supposed to make me feel better. I decided that it wouldn't enhance Laura's experience to know just how broke the estate was, and how few employees there really were. “They're a great help.”

“You said you did some redecorating? I imagine that was great fun.”

“It was a blast. So much fun, and I found some wonderful pieces in the attic that just fit perfectly into my vision of the sitting room. Would you like to see it?” I was relieved to be off the subject of servants and, when Laura agreed, took her (and Deidre, who insisted on tagging along) to see the renovated suite. Everyone was duly impressed, even Jane, who had made a disparaging comment about the odds and bobs that had been tossed into the attic.

“This is a lovely room,” Laura said, standing at the window and looking out at the drive. “What a glorious view you must have of the park when the scaffolding isn't ruining it.”

I made a face at the metal structure that spread across the front of the castle. To be honest, I'd gotten used to seeing it there. “It's just temporary, and it's easy enough to see through it.”

“I would find it highly disconcerting to be making love knowing there could be workmen standing on the other side of the window watching everything,” Deidre drawled, running a finger down Elliott's arm.

“On the contrary, we've found that spectators heighten the sense of forbidden fruit,” he replied, giving her a bland smile.

I thought her eyes were going to pop out of her head, and had to smother a sharp bark of laughter at Elliott's teasing. His eyes were filled with amusement when they met mine.

“Naughty,” Deidre said at last, and followed the others when they exited.

“I think it's time for dinner. Tonight is just a normal,
nonhistorical dinner, and there's no need to dress up for it,” I told them all, herding them toward the door. “But if you wish to wash up beforehand, we'll gather in the sitting room in twenty minutes, all right? Do you all know where your rooms are? Awesome.”

I closed the door on the last of them and turned to face Elliott. “Quickie?” I asked.

He pursed his lips in thought, looked like he was about to agree, and reluctantly shook his head. “I think after waiting these endless months, we should take our time.”

“It's only been two weeks, silly,” I said, and went over to give him a kiss. “You're right, of course, but all that talk of voyeuristic sex . . . well, enough said.”

He pinched my butt again, and we parted, me to go to my temporary room and take off my wedding clothes, and Elliott to do likewise.

We both tried our best to be witty and entertaining hosts, but the truth was that we so badly wanted to be together, we spent a good amount of the time just sending looks fraught with desire and need down the length of the dining room table. Rosalyn had yielded her spot at one end to me, with a grace that made me feel truly part of a family for the first time in my life. I beamed first at her, then at Elliott, looking with contentment at my new family and friends as they laid into the roast beef that Marie had worked on all day.

The hours passed, neither especially slow nor too quickly. We ate; we strolled around the grounds showing off the garden to the visitors (although Patrick had been to the castle before); we held an informal tour of the house with Elliott and Jane describing all the historic points, finishing the evening with a couple of rounds of billiards, the
ladies against the gentlemen (they won, but only because Gunner turned out to be nigh on par with a pool shark).

At long last Elliott and I managed to leave the party without too many undue comments.

“Happy sex,” Gunner called after us as we made our good-nights. “Don't break anything else, El, or Alice may just spontaneously combust with sexual frustration.”

Elliott closed the door to the billiards room and looked at me. “Shall we have that race now?”

“Just stay out of my way,” I said before bolting. I beat him to the bedroom, but only because he let me. I snatched up the sexy nightie I'd left off earlier in the day, and with a look that had him pausing while standing on one foot, in the act of pulling off his shoes, headed to the bathroom while saying, “I expect you to be naked and ready to rumble when I return.”

He was.

“Is this ready enough?” he asked. He was lying naked on the bed, the captain's hat on his head, and the parrot clipped to the headboard, where it hung down drunkenly.

I laughed aloud. “OK, that is sweet, you bringing the pirate hat back for wedding night number two. I came prepared, too.” I held up a bottle of massage oil. “Or rather, your mother did. She thought a little oil would make things easier.”

He looked concerned as I moved over to the bed, and popped the top off the oil. “Won't that make a mess?”

“We will make a mess, but this?” I shook the bottle at him. “This is nonsticky, superslick stuff that is supposed to help you give the most amazing massages. And before you demand that I hand it over so you can use it on me, I'll point out that it's my turn.”

“It most definitely is not.”

“Well, either way, it's the bride's prerogative to pick who uses the slicky oil first, and I choose me.” I dribbled a line of it up both his legs, and knelt between his ankles. “Since I know you like organization, I'll let you in on the schedule for this evening. First, there will be an erotic massage, mostly meant to relax some of your muscles which appear to be so tense, they're about ready to snap.”

“It's been a very long two weeks,” he admitted.

“I agree. Hence the massage. Following that, the oral sex.”

He smiled. “Was that a Monty Python reference, or do you mean it?”

“Both.
Holy Grail
is one of my favorite movies, but we'll discuss that another time. And finally, the big finish in which you and I get down to business and see if we can beat our previous record.”

I put my hands on his calves, and rubbed the oil in, not able to do much in the line of a deep muscle massage since he was lying on his back, but if the state of his penis was anything go by, the erotic part was most definitely working.

“What record? Oh, lord, yes, right there.” He moaned softly when I used the heel of my hand on his thighs, his toes bobbing happily with each stroke. I had to say, the oil was very good, leaving no sticky residue, but providing a seemingly frictionless surface. I did the same to his other leg, then slathered a little oil on his penis and testicles before moving past them to his chest and arms.

“Hmm? The record in which we had the orgasm to end all orgasms last time. I don't remember how long it took us, but it was quick. I think we can be quicker.”

“Most women,” he commented, his hands clutching
the sheets when I oiled up his nipples and gave them a gentle tweak, “most women don't like a man who's quick. They prefer longer experiences. You're the only woman I've ever met who wants me to be faster than I was before.”

“That's because there's such a nice payoff, and if you don't spend all night doing it, then you have time to recover and do it all over again. OK, let me know if anything hurts. No holding back and being brave, all right?” I dribbled a little oil on his shoulders, and very, very gently rubbed it into the muscles.

“I promise I will tell you if my collarbone hurts, but right now, there are other parts of me that are aching, and yet you cruelly ignore them.”

“I'll get back to them. This is supposed to relax you, first.” I looked down at him. He didn't look relaxed. In fact, the way his eyes were focused on my breasts, he looked about ready to spring. “You are feeling the benefits of this, aren't you?”

“Yes. Now take off that thing and let me oil you up. I know you said I couldn't, but it's my wedding night, too, and I have the right to oil you and make you relax.”

“How about a compromise?” I asked, setting aside the bottle. His body glistened in the soft light, every bit of his front from the neck down slick and inviting.

“What would that be?”

I peeled off the nightie and straddled his hips, pressing his penis between us as I lay out on top of him. The oil allowed me to slide in a very sensual way, one that not only stirred him to new heights of arousal, but made my body alight with need and want and all those things that only Elliott seemed to stir. “This. Look, I can slide around on you.”

He groaned and grabbed my hips to keep me from doing just that. “You're about to have an answer to just how quickly I can break our previous record.”

“Well,” I said, thinking about all the things I had planned for that evening. “I'd hate to waste that, and since my motor has been running nonstop the last two weeks, I'd be more than happy to skip right to the main course, but that does mean you owe me the chance to lick you up one side, and down the other.”

He just stared at me for a second, then tipped his head back and laughed loudly. “You are the most amazing woman, Alice. I don't know what I did to deserve you, but I thank god that you decided to put up with me. You may lick me another time. But for now . . .”

I was on my back before I realized what he was doing. He loomed over me, now wantonly rubbing himself on me, transferring some of the oil so that we were both wonderfully slippery.

“And now, as you said, the oral sex.” He gave me a roguish look before sliding downward, his breath hot and moist on my thighs as he spread my personal paradise, and went to town. So to speak. Between the heat of his mouth, the feeling of his stubble on my thighs, and his dancing fingers that seemed to know exactly where to touch, I was soon at the point of no return.

“Now!” I yelled, tugging at his hair. Luckily, he gave in to my demands, and slid upward along my oil-slicked flesh, taking my legs over his arms as he did so, and sliding into me with one long move. That was all it took for me—my muscles clamped down around him as I went soaring. I did something I never do—I yelled with the glory of it all: my love, the feeling of the orgasm, and, most of all, the knowledge that we were bound together in ways that
went beyond a mere legal event. He was mine, my Elliott, my love, my family. He was the part of me that I'd been waiting for since I had become an adult.

It took him a little longer, all of another four seconds, before he, too, gave in to his own orgasm. He sprawled on top of me, his hips twitching a little with the lingering sensations of the moment, his breath hot on my neck.

I slid my hands down his back before wrapping my arms around him, holding him tight, tears burning the backs of my eyes.

“Alice?”

There was concern in his voice. I opened my eyes to smile at him. He kissed the edge of my eye. “Why are you crying, love?”

“I'm just so happy.” I couldn't help giving a watery chuckle. “It's stupid, I know, but I never thought I'd be this happy. I love you, Elliott Edmond Richard Ainslie, eighth Baron Ainslie, lord and master of all you survey, except me because I don't go in for that business about men mastering women. Did we beat our record?”