Wedding Violet (Fair Cyprians of London 4)

“As ready as you clearly are,” she responded on a gurgle of happiness as she gave a little wriggle, inviting him in further.

Without another word, Max plunged into her in one smooth stroke, and Violet gasped her delight, and shuddered with excitement as she hooked her legs around his waist, wanting more than anything in that moment to be as one and to feel as one, as close and melded with another human being as was possible.

She’d been on the brink when he’d entered her, but his increasingly rapid thrusts sent her brain into a

whirl of wicked pleasure, and her body into a morass of eternally damning ectasy so that her climax was beyond anything she could have imagined.

With a cry of delight, she shattered around him, her arms binding him to her as he collapsed with a groan of ecstasy, rolling over her so he didn’t crush her.

“By gad, Violet, now that was the best tupping I’ve ever enjoyed!” His laugh was unrestrained as he squeezed her affectionately. “I feel like I’m going to die of pleasure.” His breathing was rapid; his skin hot and slick with sweat. “Please, don’t talk to me for a few minutes while I regain my strength. I think I’m going to want to do this all over again, very soon.”

Obediently, Violet lay in silence, smiling at the ceiling, her body humming with contentment while the comforting warmth of Max’s body seeped into her like a life-generating mantle of safety.

“We really should get down to business and discuss what we’re going to tell your aunt,” she said with real regret after a few minutes, sitting up and stroking his chest as she smiled down at him. “I’m going to have to leave you sooner than I’d like.”

“Really?” He looked appalled. “You have to go?”

“In half an hour, I do. And it really is very important that we both decide how you’re going to ask me to marry you.” She bit her lips together to suppress the mirth that was ready to escape, even as he realised what she meant.

“My, my, but you’re a funny girl, Violet,” he chided, raising an eyebrow. “A clever one too, as I’ve already said—so I think I hardly need to remind you that this is all a charade.”

“A charade? Did I not give satisfaction, my Lord?” she asked with mock indignation. “Did you not enjoy my willing wantonness and my clever moves as much as last time? After what you said just now”

“Do stop, my dear. I enjoyed it far too much for a man aspiring to a measure of chivalry, and I’d be too aggrieved to think that you, in fact, were only pretending to please me and to be pleased.”

“It was all genuine enough.” She sighed, running her hands over his chest. “Unfortunately. For I could think of nothing nicer than to do this with you on a very regular basis. But I’m not the hopeless romantic your aunt is. Experience has made me pragmatic, and so I will simply appreciate the next three weeks until I must farewell you to Africa and hope you’ll remember me when you return.”

He sat up and stroked her hair, tidying a ringlet by smoothing it around his finger. “What a gem you are, Violet. All right then, how would I ask you to marry me?” He was softly stroking her breasts as he murmured this. Then gently spanning her waist with his hands as he moved her off the bed and onto the floor where they stood, naked, face to face.

“I think there should be an orchestra playing,” he said, as he raised one hand to her shoulder, the other still round her waist. “A gentle waltz should be playing in the background and your—” He broke off, adding, “Yes; your head would be resting against my chest, just like that, as we circled the floor, the scent of summer drifting through the open French doors. And I’d look down at you and whisper, ‘Violet, I don’t think I can live without you. Will you marry me?’ ”

Violet raised her head to look at him. She knew her eyes were moist, and she didn’t care. She raised her hand to touch his cheek. “I’ve known that for a long time, darling,” she whispered. “I’ve just been waiting.” She sighed, shaking herself back to reality as she managed a watery smile. “There, that should satisfy your aunt.”

For a moment, he was silent. “Yes, it should.” His tone was sober as he took her hand and led her to the sofa by the fire, dragging the counterpane from the bed to cover them both as they sank down onto the velvet.

He took both her hands in his. “How did you come by this way of life?” he asked.

Caught by surprise, Violet gave a short laugh. “We don’t want to mix fact with fiction here, Max. Let’s just concoct our fantasy for your aunt’s sake. That way we’ll not run the risk of being exposed.”

He gave a half nod. “I suppose you’re right.”

“So, now that you know how you asked me to marry you, how did you meet me? When did you fall in love with me?”

He sent her a mischievous smile. “I’ll confess to being as big a romantic as Aunt Euphemia. When did I meet you? When did I know I was in love with you? Why, like you, lovely Violet, it was love at first sight. Yes, I fell in love with you the moment I set eyes on you.”

“And where did you set eyes on me?”

He squinted at her. “You’re testing me, aren’t you? You’ve already told Aunt Euphemia, and you told me too.” He raised his eyes to the ceiling, thinking. “You worked in a shop. A haberdasher’s. Yes! And I stepped over the threshold looking for gentleman’s handkerchiefs and was served by you. The most stunning creature I’d ever laid eyes upon.”

“Aren’t you sweet, darling.”

“I do like the way that rolls off your tongue.”

“The way what rolls off my tongue?”

“The endearment. And a great many other things. Are you sure you don’t have time for another—?”

“I wish! But no, Max.” Violet rose, gripping the counterpane against her chest and taking a few steps away, turning to cast an incisive look at the evidence of his desire. “My Lord, but you are magnificently endowed. It has been a pleasure!”