The Merry Widow (5 page)

More briskly he added, “Well, I will not detain you further, Madame. Allow me to hail you a cab.”

Phillipa silently admired his tall frame as he stepped down into the busy street, his fitted tweed suit accentuating his muscular thighs and firm backside. When he lifted his arm to gain a driver’s attention, his muscles strained the unforgiving material of his jacket, eliciting from her an involuntary groan of frustration and growing need.

Unfortunately her unguarded admiration came to an end, for he’d finally acquired a rather smart-looking brougham attached to a pair of prancing geldings. This did not, she thought, resemble any hackney she’d been in. Once it came to a complete stop, he yanked open the door and reached inside. He pulled out a set of low steps, which he placed on the ground beneath the carriage entrance. He then turned to her, his full lips lifted in a devilish grin. “Come, me lady, your carriage awaits.”

Phillipa couldn’t help the smile that curled her lips as well, for his show of gallantry was charmingly excessive. Gathering her skirts, she stepped out into traffic and allowed him to help her into the hired cab. But instead of closing the door behind her, he climbed inside and settled on the seat beside her.

“You don’t mind if we share the cab, do you?” he asked, his brown eyes sparkling with amusement.

“’Tis most improper for an unmarried couple to share close quarters! And to make matters worse, y-you’re a paramour for heaven’s sake!”

“So what you’re saying is that you don’t mind us being together behind closed doors, but when we’re in public we should act as if we don’t know each other.”

“Exactly! Why, this could ruin me!”

“Well then, I will simply rectify the situation.” He leaned forward and pulled the purple velvet curtain across the front window of the carriage, effectively plunging the interior into muted shadows.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice now several octaves higher. She gulped when he regained his seat next to her and his muscular thigh brushed against her hip.

“Why, I’m going to have my way with you, Phillipa. Behind closed doors of course.” He chuckled and drew her into his arms. “Do you know I’ve been unable to put you out of my head this entire week? I am unable to sleep or eat without my thoughts constantly drifting to you. And this morning, I felt that my head was going to practically explode if I had to wait one more day to see you. But seeing you only the once did not slake my desire.”

Phillipa’s heart quickened at his admission, and she sucked in her breath when his lips traced a path down the side of her throat.

“Have you been suffering from the same malady, ma petite fille?” he murmured, his warm breath disturbing the wispy tendrils at her temple.

“Yes,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

At her equal admission, he shifted her in his arms and then lowered his head.

She moaned at the contact of his warm lips against hers. Prepared for his assault and welcoming it, she opened her mouth. Unlike the kiss from the night before, this was untamed, possessive and all-consuming. Although she had never experienced this kind of savageness in her lovemaking with Harry, she didn’t shrink from Reggie, but exulted in his passion and returned it.

“Lift your skirts for me,” he commanded between kisses.

She obeyed him until her skirts lay rumpled at the tops of her thighs.

“Higher.”

His tone startled her. A sliver of fear shot along her spine, but she hitched up her skirts until her linen drawers were exposed.

“Good girl. Now take them off.”

“M-m-my underdrawers?” she squeaked. “Why do you want me to take off my underdrawers?”

A movement out the corner of her eye drew her attention downward, her eyes widening in surprise as she watched his hands unbutton the tortoiseshell buttons on the front flap of his trousers. Once they were undone, he lifted his hips and shoved them down so that his cock sprang free, hard already and long and as thick as her wrist.

She marveled at the powerful erection that stood out from the dense patch of hair below his belly. Although as a genteel woman of society she should have swooned at such a sight, she licked her lips greedily. Then to show him proof of her desire for him, she untied the delicate lace of her underpants. She slid them down her legs until they lay in a white pool at her booted feet.

When she looked to him, a thrill of delight ran through her. His eyes were fixated on the downy curls covering her sex. She rubbed her hands over her thighs in small circular motions and traced the edge of her silk stockings with her fingertips.

“Are you wet for me?”

“Wet?” she asked.

“Yes. Is your quim wet for me?” he asked, nodding his head towards her open thighs. “Touch yourself and tell me.”

Phillipa didn’t have to touch herself to know the answer to his question. Her inner thighs were already coated with her juices. But to appease him, she slid her hand over the moist curls. And to her surprise, a jolt of pleasure shot through her. Like an inquisitive child, she pressed her hand more firmly into her mound until the lips parted. The memory of pleasure still fresh in her mind, she rubbed her open palm up and down her sensitive flesh. She was so slick and warm to the touch! Squeezing her eyes shut, she worked her hand over her sex, increasing her passion until the blood pounded through her veins and her juices poured over her fingertips.

Reggie grabbed her wrist and said in a ragged voice, “Enough! You are going to drive me to the brink of insanity from just watching you. Come here and straddle my cock. It’s time you sated my appetite as well as your own.”

Phillipa opened her eyes. She looked over at his manhood, and although she delighted in her own touch, she knew his cock would satisfy a hunger her own hands could not appease. With one hand, she took a hold of her skirts and placed the other hand onto his shoulder to steady herself as she rose from the seat. Once she stood in front of him, she placed a thigh on either side of his hips. However, when she moved to straddle him, he stopped her.

He looked directly into her eyes. “From this day forth, no other man will be allowed to rest between your thighs or taste your lips but me,” he said forcefully. Then he bit her nipple through the thin cotton of her dress.

It was insane, what he said. They hardly knew each other, and he was, after all, a man-for-hire. She shouldn’t be making any promises. But she found herself answering back, “I don’t care, Reggie, because there isn’t any other man I want. Only you!”

“Good! Now open your legs wider, ma petite fille!” he positioned the head of his cock against her. Then he hesitated. “Perhaps that toy of yours prepared you for me.”

She shook her head. “It wasn’t so large,” she whispered.

“You will stretch for me,” he predicted, and she murmured her agreement.

However, she was unprepared for the tears that sprang to her eyes as he lowered her unto him. But then he groaned, and she knew he struggled with a different kind of pain altogether as he held himself back. Forgetting her own discomfort, she slid her hands up and down his heaving shoulders in an attempt to soothe him.

Once his cock was completely sheathed inside her, Phillipa took several calming breaths while she fought back tears of pain. She thought Harry was big, but Reggie was enormous! He filled her to capacity and stretched her tight channel beyond what she assumed was humanly possible. Then pain faded into a dull ache, and then to something else entirely. But he had not yet noticed as he fought to keep himself in check.

Deciding to test the waters, she shifted her weight. She gasped when he slipped even deeper. But instead of pain, an exquisite fullness rocked her to her very core. Phillipa dug her knees into the carriage seat and started to move against him.

“Ohhh, ma petite fille,” Reggie groaned as she slid over his hard cock. “You will send me to an early grave. But it will be a happy death.”

Urged on by his seductive words, she increased her momentum from a slow glide to a fast trot.

“Yes! Ride me! Ride my cock, ma petite fille,” he shouted.

Her head swam as his hands lifted and slammed her down again and again on his hard cock. Her passion intensified tenfold. Her head fell back and she began to mewl like a hungry kitten.

He slowed his thrusts and studied her. “Are you still—?”

“Don’t stop,” she whispered. “It’s just I never imagined I could feel this so completely!”

Her simple declaration spurred her lover’s desire. He scooped his arms under her buttocks and lifted her legs over his shoulders. With his hands around her waist, he drew her up and down on his cock, penetrating her so deeply that she feared he’d breach her womb. But her fears turned into cries of passion as he continued to ride her like a wild man.

“Yes!” he murmured. “Take all of me! For now it belongs to you. Like your sweet cunt now belongs to me!”

Phillipa clawed at his arms as her world tilted on its axis and spun out of control. Her breathing went ragged and a fire ignited in her quim, and she felt her grip with reality slip away. When she closed her eyes and succumbed to her body’s release, she heard him shout.

“Ahh! Your delicious quim! I am undone!” His fingers dug into her waist as he thrust with lightening quickness. Then without warning, he threw back his head against the carriage seat and roared his release.

Phillipa shifted her head on his shoulder. Blushing, she thought how Harry must be rolling over in his grave at the loose woman she’d become. But he was gone, and Reggie was here. Her love for her late husband notwithstanding, she found she didn’t care what he or anyone else for that matter thought of her. She was a woman who’d been well loved not once, but twice today.

All too soon the carriage came to a stop in front of her residence. Phillipa sighed heavily, not yet wanting to part with her young lover. Just then, she thought of a way to rectify the situation.

They spoke at the same time. “Phillipa, I need to tell you—”

“What are your plans for this evening? Oh! I’m sorry.” She chuckled. “I didn’t mean to interrupt you. Please, go ahead.”

“No, you go first,” he countered, his expression strangely relieved.

“As you know, I’m hosting a dinner party this evening. I was wondering, if you don’t have a prior engagement, would you join us for dinner as my guest.” When a slow sensual smile curled his lips, Phillipa felt her heart skip a beat.

“I am honored by your invitation. And I accept.”

She took his hand as he helped her out of the carriage. “Good then! I will see you eight o’clock sharp!”

“Eight o’clock it is. Only wild boars could keep me away.”

She glanced back at the carriage, thinking that he’d said that with a particular fervency. She couldn’t help but thrill to the thought he wanted her too.

“I can’t believe ye didn’t have any faith in your ol’ Bea. I’m hurt, truly hurt I am!” Beatrice Middleton huffed her displeasure as she slid a leg of mutton onto the kitchen counter. “I’ve run this household for nigh eleven years and not once ‘ave I shirked my duties.” Between her grumblings, she picked up a carrot chunk and popped it into her mouth. “And you think I would forget?”

Phillipa flung her arms around the older woman and gave her a gentle squeeze. She knew Bea liked to be appreciated for her efforts. “I apologize. I should have known you would have remembered the dinner! But my head has been in the clouds lately, and I just assumed that everyone else’s would be as well.”

“Don’t worry yourself over it, ma’am. You deserve to ‘ave at least one moment in your life where the world is not weighing on your shoulders. Now you run on upstairs and get ready. Edith and I will finish things down ‘ere. You ‘ave a house full of people and a special guest coming, and I’m sure you want to look fine for him.”

Phillipa’s hand stilled on the kitchen apron and the telltale heat of embarrassment spotted her cheeks. “Bea, about my special guest.”

The older woman held up her hand. “No need to explain, ma’am. You’ve finally found a measure of ‘appiness. And personally, I don’t care from whence it came.”

Phillipa wrapped her arms around Bea again. This time, instead of a gentle squeeze, she almost hugged the life out of her. “Oh, thank you! I knew you would understand! And you’re right! I have found happiness, but more than a measure, for I feel like it has rained upon me in spades!”

***

Reggie’s gaze rose from his brandy sifter to rest on the beautiful young woman entering the downstairs parlor. Lady Sarah Willoughby was breathtaking in her elegant evening attire as she glided towards him.

“It’s about time, minx! I’ve been waiting here for weeks.”

“Pish-posh, Reggie! You’ve only been waiting a little over two hours, which is the least bit you can do for coming here last minute and asking me to accompany you this evening.”

“Don’t remind me,” he grumbled, setting the empty tumbler on the silver service. “I’ve had my doubts about this all evening.”

“So are you going to finally put me out of my misery and tell me where we’re going?” she asked, handing him her velvet cape.

“We’re going to a dinner party hosted by a friend of mine. A very special friend.”

He adjusted the cape over her shoulders, but it dropped to the floor when she suddenly whirled around. “What do you mean by ‘special friend,’ Reggie? Surely you are not taking me to a dinner party hosted by one of your women!”

Reggie rolled his eyes heavenward. Sarah had a taste for the dramatic even when they were children, and this moment was no exception. “No, she is not one of my women. She’s… different.” He watched her expression transform from one of confusion into utter delight as his words sank home.

“Oh, Reggie! Could it be you’ve finally fallen in love! Of course, I will no longer have anything of worth to write about in my weekly column,” she prattled as if on one breath. “But it would be a fair trade, if you’ve found a reason to finally settle down again. So do tell, when is the wedding?”

“That’s just it,” Reggie said, reality sinking in. “There might not be a wedding. The lady in question is perhaps not so attached to me.”