“Yes, all sorts of white lights and rampant sorts of deliciously wicked feelings. I wanted you so much, James, and you gave me everything.”
“I made you feel like a woman? You’re fulfilled now? ‘Ecstatically happy’ you said?”
“Oh, yes. You’re a wonderful lover, James. You’re more a man than any man I’ve ever known, not that I’ve ever known another man intimately, of course. I’m very lucky.” She gave him a fat smile and giggled.
He smoothed back the hair from her forehead. He lightly touched his fingers to her breast. Her flesh was so very white. He looked down the long line of her, her waist, her flat belly, the stretch of her white legs. He thought only fleetingly of the old Jessie and smiled at himself. Then he closed his hands around her throat and squeezed. “You’re a wretched tease, Jessie Wyndham. The fact of the matter is that I did make you scream and drum your heels and do all sorts of nice things to me with your hands and your mouth, but not enough. You’re still a neophyte. You’re just a beginner in this business. But you’re learning. Now, you’re pretending that it’s nighttime and you’re exhausted. Well, it’s time to earn your keep. Now, let’s go to the stable. There’s always more than enough work to do.”
While he was pulling on his black Hessians, he knew how he was going to make his smart-mouthed wife pay for her games.
“More salt, if you please, Mrs. Catsdoor. Yes, that’s better. That should be about right.” James laid down the big spoon. The ham soup was seasoned perfectly.
“But I don’t understand, Master James, I—”
“I want to serve my wife, Mrs. Catsdoor. You and Harlow may have your own dinner now.”
On his way to the dining room, James added even more salt to the soup. “Ah, here you are, Jessie. Consider me your servant for the evening. Soup, my dear? Mrs. Catsdoor does it very well. Yes, a nice big bowl for you. And a glass of my best port. It’s heavy, I know that, but it goes perfectly with the ham soup, Badger’s recipe.”
He watched her while she spooned a bite into her mouth. “It’s rather salty,” she said, picking up her wineglass and sipping at the hearty port. “Does Badger really put that much salt into it?”
“Oh yes. He says it makes the ham nearly jump around in your mouth, all that flavor. More port, Jessie?”
Fifteen minutes later she’d forgotten that he’d eaten very little, and none of that delicious ham soup at all, but as he’d told her, “I don’t do well with ham. It makes my belly ache,” and she’d thought that was fortuitous since it would make all that much more for her. It was the best ham soup she’d ever had placed in front of her.
He sat back in his chair, his hands laced over his belly, watching her alternately take a bite of the ham soup, then drink that sin-red port. He sipped at his water and ate a chunk of warm bread.
“Did I ever tell you about the time I stole a kiss from Margaret Tittlemore? Out in her father’s barn with a calf butting against my leg?”
“Margaret Tittlemore? Goodness, James, she’s married now and has four children! You stole a kiss?”
“We were both fourteen and believe me, Jessie, she had the prettiest mouth, all pink and pouting. Anyway, after I’d stolen that kiss, she slapped me—not very hard because she’d wanted that kiss, too—but I wasn’t expecting that slap, and it was enough to knock me off balance. I fell over the calf, who mooed loudly enough to bring his mother. She poked me in the stomach, sending me over backward into the hay bin. Unfortunately one of the stable lads had forgotten to remove the rake, and I landed right on the tines. I had four glorious holes in my butt for two months.”
She laughed, drank more port, watched James pour more into her now-empty glass, and drank that. “What was Margaret doing while all this was going on?”
“The miserable girl was standing there holding her sides, laughing her head off. I quite like Margaret. She’s produced good children.”
Jessie laughed and laughed. She drank some more port. He eyed her joyfully. He counted the glasses she’d already drunk. He didn’t want her to be sick the next day. He strolled along the table, then pulled her chair away and placed a hand on each arm of the chair. He leaned over and put his mouth against hers. “How do you feel, Jessie?”
“Marvelous. Oh, James, your tongue across my lower lip tickles. Do it again.” She giggled, and her warm breath washed through him like a wave that couldn’t wait to crest. She heaved a deep sigh when he kissed her again, his tongue slipping between her lips this time.
When he was carrying her up the wide staircase, knowing that Mrs. Catsdoor was very likely watching his progress, he leaned down and kissed her ear. “How do you feel, Jessie?”
“I want to kiss you,” she said, leaned up, grabbing his shoulders, and nearly knocked him backward.
“In just a moment, you can do whatever you want to do,” he said, and began to run. His game was fast turning back on him.
When he had her naked, flat on her back on the wide bed, he stripped off his own clothes and came over her, shuddering at the softness of her, the heat, the feel of her hands as they stroked up and down his back.
“James,” she said, arching upward. He kissed her, moving over her, pressing himself against her belly.
“Slow down,” he said into her mouth, and licked her lip, then quickly nipped her earlobe. She loved it when he kissed her breasts, massaging them, rubbing his cheek against her soft flesh. She giggled, leaned up, and bit his neck.
He grinned at her, butted her head back with his chin, and began licking and nibbling on her throat. She laughed, squirmed, and pulled his ear. “I want you to see lights. I want you to yell that you’re a woman, that you’re fulfilled, that you’ve had a glimpse of heaven.”
“All that?”
“Ah, Jessie, take this.”
She gave him an owl-eyed stare, kissed him, her mouth open, her tongue busy on his, and whispered into his mouth, “I know I probably shouldn’t be telling you how wonderful you are, but it’s true. You’re grand, James, just grand. I hurt, deep down in my belly, I hurt, but I don’t want it to go away, the way I would a bellyache. Make it keep going, James. Make it like the other times. Ah, is that a white light I see?”