The Valentine Legacy (Legacy 3) - Page 82

She nodded.

He closed his eyes as his fingers lightly traced over the swelling. “This will take a while to go down, Jessie.”

“I’m glad you call me Jessie. Everyone does, even Anthony. Even the horses would if they could speak human.”

Dr. Raven said as he continued lightly touching his fingers to the bump. “Speaking of the little fellow, Anthony just wrote his first ditty. His mother is crowing about it. It’s quite clever, really, all about his father giving a speech in the House of Lords and everyone falling asleep.”

“I assume Marcus didn’t find it as clever as the Duchess did?” James asked.

“It was difficult to say,” Dr. Raven said. “He’d tucked Anthony under his arm and told him he was taking him to the lake to drown him. Now, Jessie, here’s what you’re going to do for the next three days.”

“I don’t like this, James.”

“I know. Drink it.”

She downed the brownish liquid, made from one of Mr. Badger’s prized recipes, Mrs. Catsdoor had said, and fell back against the pillows, wheezing. “Oh goodness, that would make any sinner reform. It’s far more vile than that hangover drink you made me swallow.”

“Mr. Badger did say he gave it to his lordship whenever he was downpin,” Mrs. Catsdoor told her. “He said it made his lordship as malleable as a sheep for at least an hour. Mr. Badger did allow, however, that seeing his lordship as malleable as a sheep worried everyone, even the scullery maid in the pantry. Now, you’re to have some nice light soup, Mrs. James.”

 

; Jessie ate the soup, yawned widely, and went to sleep at 8:00 that evening. At 8:45, James, who was reading in bed beside her, suddenly stiffened at the touch of her fingers on his belly. He stared at her. Her eyes were closed. She looked to be deeply asleep. Still, those fingers of hers moved, downward now, through the hair at his groin, down until she was lightly touching him with her fingertips. James let out a whoosh of air, realized he’d been holding his breath, and leaned back against the pillow. She was touching him, now she was stroking him, closing her hand around him, and he thought he was going to expire with the pleasure of it. She was doing this in her sleep? While she was injured? Well, she had been knocked on the head, that was it, she didn’t know what she was doing, she couldn’t begin to imagine what she was—He moaned as her fingers tightened on him, moving now, touching, caressing. He couldn’t bear it. “Jessie, you’ve got to stop this. I won’t be able to hang on much longer. Oh God, that’s wonderful. Don’t ever stop.”

“All right, I won’t.”

He nearly jumped out of his skin. As it was, the sheer shock of her voice pulled him back from the frantic urgency that was pushing him hard toward release. “Jessie, you damned tease.”

“Yes, perhaps. I’ve wanted to do that for a long time, James. Do you like it?”

“You’re ill. God, I love it. You must rest. You shouldn’t be driving me mad like this. Don’t stop, Jessie, don’t stop.” He moaned.

“No, I won’t stop. I like the way you feel, James. My head just hurts a little bit, not enough to make me lie here any longer wanting to touch you. You don’t mind, do you?”

“You’re ill. I love it. Jessie, I’ll lose everything if you don’t stop now. I don’t want you to, but on the other hand if you do then I’ll just be devastated for a very few minutes until I’m inside you and then it will be wonderful again and I won’t have to stop.”

“All right, James.”

He pulled her on top of him, jerked her nightgown over her head, and said, “Bring me inside you, Jessie. That’s right, slowly, slowly.”

It was nearly nine o’clock, his wife had struck her head not all that many hours before, and here she was riding him—slowly, to be sure—but she was moving on him, and she looked to be enjoying herself. He stroked her breasts, let his hands tighten about her waist, then lower until he found her and he stroked her until she was breathing hard, pulling him deep inside her, teasing him, and he said very clearly, “Jessie, it’s time for you to climax now, all right?”

“Now?”

“Yes, now.”

“Yes,” she said. “All right.” She looked amazed as she flung her head back, all that wild red hair of hers streaming over her shoulders and down her back, and surely throwing her head like that had to hurt her just a bit but all he could see was her pleasure, shimmering over her, making her cry out, making her ride him hard and harder yet and just as she was easing, he took his own release.

She was lying over him, her warm breath against his neck, and he was still inside her.

“You were ill,” he managed when he could finally put two words together.

“Yes, but I’m much better now.”

“I’d say you were the best. That was incredible, Jessie.”

“Yes,” she said, licked his neck, and snuggled back down. In a moment, she was asleep and he was still inside her.

He lay there a long time, his hands rubbing her back, stroking her, kneading her buttocks.

Tags: Catherine Coulter Legacy Historical
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