The Seduction of His Wife (28 page)

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Authors: Tiffany Clare

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #Victorian, #General

BOOK: The Seduction of His Wife
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“Not at all. The men will join us shortly.”

“I knew it!” She sent a rush of water toward her sister. Grace swam out of the way before she could be splashed. “Grace, this isn’t funny. They are going to see us half naked in the full light of day. You have taken this too far.”

“It doesn’t matter that they see us half naked, Emma. It is nothing they haven’t seen from either of us before.” Grace had the nerve to let out a full-throttled laugh from deep in her lungs. “This is the wager Abby and I decided on. You can’t change it. Well, you can. You can back out now and lose your chance to have us sit for you.”

“You are decidedly cruel.” Emma scrunched up her nose at her sister. “Why bother to involve my husband at all?”

“You’ll thank me for this one day. I promise you that much.” Grace wasn’t going to answer her. “Your husband, on the other hand, may thank me today. Maybe when he realizes you aren’t wearing nearly enough clothes, because he’s scowling something fierce and striding here at double the speed he was before he’d spotted your golden curls bobbing along in the water.”

“What is the meaning of this, Emma? Are you trying to catch your death?”

Before she turned to Richard’s voice, Emma glared at her sister through narrowed eyes and hissed under her breath, “I will not end the challenge so easily, but you will pay for this, Grace!”

Grace swam closer, close enough to whisper, “The second part of the challenge, and the reason Abby isn’t here, is that you have to convince your husband to come into the water by any means necessary. I do believe you have your work cut out for you; he looks positively furious.”

Turning in the water, Emma pasted a fake smile on her face as she met her husband’s glare. Why couldn’t he be as carefree and uncaring as his friend? Mr. Lioni sat on the lawn with his knees up, elbows resting on them, twirling a long piece of grass between his fingers. He wasn’t watching her, though. His attention was arrested by Grace.


Cara,
is this an invitation to join you?” Dante unlaced his boots.

“I do believe it is.” Grace tittered.

“Emma, what is the meaning of this?” Richard drew her attention back to him.

She stood on the silty bottom of the pond, since she was only chest-deep in the water.

“Grace and I are simply remembering our childhood. We felt like a swim. It’s so dreadfully hot today that the idea was perfect.”

For some odd reason, she wanted to convince Richard to join her for a swim. To put behind their evening of disagreement.

“Why don’t you join us?” she called out, swimming into deeper water. “Mr. Lioni has no shame in doing so.”

Richard crossed his arms over his chest and walked down to the edge of the pond. “And freeze half to death?”

Emma swam closer to him, sure that a devil whispered in her ear to do something she’d never dared dream of doing before now. “You could try catching me. I’ll keep you warm.”

Mr. Lioni laughed and stripped out of his clothes. “Your wife is a firecracker.”

“It’ll be fun,” she assured Richard. She was determined to get him into the water.

Though the water wasn’t getting any warmer the deeper out she swam, she had a few ideas in how she could warm up. Richard was scowling at her now and remained unmoving. She swam a little closer.

Mr. Lioni lumbered into the water. He paid her no mind. His focus seemed intent on Grace, who was swimming farther out into the water, laughing so hard that Emma wasn’t sure how her sister stayed afloat. Mr. Lioni used firm, sure strokes to swim after Grace.

Emma looked back to Richard and decided to give a better enticement to lure him in faster. Not that she needed to; he had worked his boots off. But half the fun in this dare was in teasing her husband. So she stood from the water, revealing her drenched camisole. It stuck to every curve. Richard growled something foul as he yanked his shirt from his trousers, with renewed fervor.

He pointed an accusing finger at her. “Stare at another man like that again, Emma, and I’ll be tempted to put you over my lap.”

She’d barely glanced at Mr. Lioni. Was he jealous? The very thought was enough to make her heart leap right up into her throat. She stifled a gasp.

“You wouldn’t dare,” she said in mock surprise.

“Test me again and you’ll find out.”

She pouted out her bottom lip. “I’m an artist. The male form has always fascinated me.” None so much as his. Not that she’d tell him that when she enjoyed the possessiveness he displayed.

“I hadn’t had the opportunity to properly explore a man’s shape until you came back to the manor. Now I have two fine specimens at my fingertips,” she teased.

“I plan on fishing you out of there and taking you back to the house. There, I will demonstrate just how serious I am about taking you over my knee.”

Under the full impact of the sun, his complexion was golden. The hair on his chest speckled the space between his pectorals in a small matting of deep brown. There was another trail that went from his navel and led into his smalls. Richard’s body was well toned, his muscles subtler than Mr. Lioni’s. Despite their size difference, she didn’t doubt the men were equal in strength.

Richard still stood on the edge of the bank, glowering at her.

He obviously needed more temptation then her simply standing there in a drenched chemise to draw him into the water. Feeling more brazen then she’d ever felt in her life, she curled her fingers under the short camisole and pulled it over her head. With a crooked smile, she threw the wet material at her husband.

“Are you joining me? Or do you plan to stand there all day, like a surly bear?”

He caught the damp material, stared at it and dropped it. The tips of her breasts had beaded the moment she’d stepped into the chilly water, and he was staring at their distended, darkened tips. He growled something unintelligible, then pulled off his smalls.

She gasped. “Richard, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Chasing my wife out of a bloody cold pond.”

“Why are you removing all your clothes?”

“Perhaps I’m stripping so you can enjoy the male physique in all its grandeur.”

By
grandeur
he must mean the state in which he now was—quite aroused. She could hardly swallow, her mouth was so dry. His instrument stood erect from his body, the skin pulled back from the purplish head. He was a beautiful sight. His testicles were drawn up in a sac that had to be as big as her closed fist.

She had put him in that state.

Tossing his smalls up on the bank, he came forward. Tempting as it was to let him catch her—she had missed being in his arms last night—she didn’t want to make this too easy for him. She swam as fast as she could, deeper into the water. He needed no time to adjust to the temperature of the water and was already swimming after her. He was as determined to catch her as Mr. Lioni had been to catch Grace.

His hand slid over her calf and down her ankle. With a laugh, she managed to kick out of his reach. An adept swimmer, she decided to evade him by ducking fully under the surface of the water, turning about, and swimming in the direction she’d come from.

Before she could make her quick escape, his arm snaked around her waist and pulled her back above the surface of the water. She swiped her hair from her face. Richard held her to his chest, kicking out with his legs to bring them to shallower water.

“Did you really think I’d let you get away?”

“Does it matter now that you’ve caught me?” Her voice was husky. Filled with so much need.

She couldn’t help but smile at his dark, serious gaze and set her hands on his shoulders for balance. Did he really think she’d be frightened off by his scowl? She put her feet to the rocky bottom of the pond. He still held her waist. She felt the firm, welcome intrusion of his manhood against her navel.

“Do I at least get a kiss for catching you?”

His head was already descending toward hers. Their lips were wet and cool to the touch from being in the water. She pulled her mouth away from his after the first innocent stroke of mouth on mouth. She wasn’t ready to pull her body away, though. He was warm when everything around her was suddenly cold. He was solid when everything else moved and felt unsteady.

Instead of swimming away, she wrapped her legs about his waist and let him hold her weightless body against his. It was a sensually erotic position. She couldn’t help but spread her fingers through his still-dry hair. The thick waves stuck to her damp fingers, so she grasped his hair tighter.

Lifting her mouth to his, she said, “Where are Grace and Mr. Lioni? I don’t think I could bear to know they watched us.”

“They swam toward the reeds, behind the willow that shades this side of the pond. They’ve been gone since before I stripped out of my clothes.”

“So, we’re all alone?”

“All alone.” His hand lowered to cup her buttocks.

“I shouldn’t be giving you this privilege. There is still a lot to discuss about yesterday.”

“There is,” he agreed. “Let it wait till tonight.”

He hitched her up higher on his body, the crest of his manhood pressed at her core where he’d slipped through the slit in her drawers. She wanted to slide over the thick length lodged there, wanted to forget they were in broad daylight indulging in something so completely sinful she should be ashamed of her reckless behavior.

With temptation in reach, she did everything her mind was telling her not to do: She pressed down till the head of his cock was wedged within her. Richard’s grip tightened on either cheek of her buttocks.

“This isn’t the best place for this,” she groaned out low.

“I’m not inclined to move elsewhere now that I have you where I want you.”

She laughed, feeling giddier by the moment.

His hand skimmed up her back with a firm touch. “Have you ladies been indulging in some wine this afternoon?”

“None.” Which made her wonder what exactly had come over her. It wasn’t like her to behave this way. “How did you know I would be at the pond?”

His hand fisted around her hair, which had fallen from the knot she’d tied it in when she’d ducked under the water. Richard kissed her forehead. Kissed her lips. Lust was reflected in his gaze when he pulled away and stared back at her. Then he thrust right up into her core until they were pelvis-to-pelvis. He didn’t move within her, just held her tightly to his body.

“There was a note included with my luncheon.” Leaning forward, his tongue flicked against her ear. “Said to meet you at the pond.” He sucked the lobe of her ear in his mouth. “I had to investigate, of course.”

She hated that she couldn’t find it in her to be angry with Grace for lying to her. Not with her husband doing wicked things to her. Making her feel wicked in return.

“What if Grace and Mr. Lioni come back?”

With only one side of his lip lifting with his smile, Richard looked quite devilish. “They won’t be back anytime soon.”

“What if Abby should find us? Or the servants?”

“The pond is secluded on the property. We are surrounded by trees on two sides, hills to the north, and the apple orchard to the south.”

He must have understood her concern, because he was walking toward the shade of the weeping willow where the branches caressed the surface of the water. How he walked there with such ease when she was sheathed around him she couldn’t guess; didn’t in fact care to guess when he was doing such pleasurable things to her body.

There was a patch of grass between the trunk of the willow and the pond. Richard made his way in that direction, holding her weight easily as they cleared the water. He pressed her back to the rough bark, his hands holding her rear.

“Is this uncomfortable?” he asked.

“Doesn’t matter. I don’t want to go anywhere else.”

She didn’t even care if she scraped her back a little. She wanted to feel more. To feel him thrust hard inside her. To make her forget that she was ever angry with him.

She let out a squeak when he shoved up inside her and her back scraped along the tree. Spinning their positions around, he brought them to the ground with her in his lap.

“Richard? I…”

She bit her lip. What did she want to say? That she was in love with her husband? No, those words needed to stay buried. Her feelings needed to stay buried. Any utterance that she was in love was liable to make him leave sooner than he planned.

He grasped her hips tight and slammed their bodies together. She bit her lip hard. How easily he made her forget everything but him.

*   *   *

Emma made him forget every intention he had. Made him want to luxuriate in the moment like a sated sunbathing cat whenever she was around. There was nothing better than the pleasure he found inside her body.

He played with her breasts, pressing and massaging them as he sucked one nipple into his mouth, rolling his tongue over the pearled tips. He buried his face between their sweet softness, then squeezed them together so he could lick at both nipples, groaning against them as she rose and fell, riding his cock without any shyness. He lowered his hand between their bodies to rub at her swollen clitoris, stroking and circling it with an unyielding touch.

Her arms wrapped around his head to hold him to her breasts, even though he had no intention of letting up on them. She had the most perfect breasts. He could play with them all day.

He could feel the rapid beat of her heart, or was that his heart pounding in his chest? She peaked then, her sheath flexing around his straining cock. Milking him tight as a fist pumping his rod. A rush of warm cream coated him with her climax and he released his seed in the next thrust, in the next breath. He was sure he shouted out something, but whatever it was it was muffled because he was gently biting at her breasts.

She stilled above him, their hot damp bodies sticking sweetly together. He had no intention of moving. Ever. He wasn’t even losing his firmness inside her after spilling his sperm. Testament enough that he couldn’t get enough of his wife. Some way, somehow, she’d completely beguiled him.

He wrapped his hands around her back, pressing his fingers along the delicate line of her spine. Her breathing was still ragged, almost frantic. Her damp, hot skin roused his need, damn well nearly held it hostage. Her soft breasts pressed into his cheek. He rolled his face over them.

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