Claiming His Wife (Domestic Discipline 4)

Looking down at the young woman who was still laving his cock with attention, Wesley had never felt so damned lucky in his life. Who knew that his ward would turn out to be such a treasure? He was glad that he hadn't followed his original plan of foisting her off on some other sap. Cynthia was all his and he didn't have to share her with anyone.

Gently, he moved to pull himself away from her all too tempting mouth, aware that they'd probably exceeded the amount of time they could reasonably spend in the gardens without being caught. They were only lucky that no one had walked by while they'd been occupied.

"Did I do it right?"

Cynthia's sultry voice, tempered by uncertainty, nearly made Wesley laugh aloud. Little minx. Helping her to her feet, he looked down into her bright eyes, which were peering at him as if searching for clues.

"Yes, baggage, that was delightful," he murmured, enjoying the look of pride and pleasure that lit up her face. Unable to help himself, he leaned down and took her mouth in another kiss, taking the opportunity to caress her breasts one last time as he tucked them back inside of her gown. From the way she murmured and squirmed against him, he was sure that, if he'd wanted to, he'd be able to stoke the flames of her passion again already.

Unfortunately, that wasn't going to be possible.

Pulling reluctantly away from her, he realized that returning to the Assembly Rooms wasn't going to be possible either. He thought Cynthia looked delightful with her swollen lips, tumbled hair and rumpled gown (which now also had green stains at her knees), but no one else should see her like this.

"Come on, sweetheart," he said, wrapping his jacket around her to hide the worst of the damage, and wincing when he saw the tiny tears all over the back of her gown. Damn. He was probably going to have to explain this to his mother later, when she asked why he and Cynthia left early, and if she heard about the state of Cynthia's gown, she'd never believe whatever he came up with. Maybe he could bribe the maids to burn the thing and never mention it to his mother.

Sadly, that was doubtful.

Well, it's not like he wasn't going to marry the chit.

A small smile curving his face, Wesley led Cynthia out of the gardens and around the building on the outside, keeping to the shadows. Humming softly to herself, she leaned into him, her fingers holding the edges of the jacket closed at her chest, trusting him to lead her to the carriage. A strange sense of clairvoyance whispered up Wesley's spine, as he suddenly realized that this would be his life. The life that he was meant to lead, with this brazen, sensual woman at his side. He could see them, walking just like this, in old age. Perhaps even after some fun ravishing each other in the garden.

At least, he was certainly determined to be a randy old goat, and somehow he was quite sure that Cynthia wouldn't object in the least bit.

Grinning now, he held her even more firmly to his side. He couldn't wait to be married.

******

"Does anyone know where Wesley and Cynthia have gone?" Eleanor asked, looking around. She was utterly stunning in an ice blue gown that set off her eyes and her golden hair.

Grace fluttered her fan in front of her face to hide her smile. "I believe I saw them step outside a few minutes ago," she murmured quietly. "Probably to explore the gardens."

Beside both of them, Edwin snorted and Eleanor looked up at him and giggled. "Oh dear."

"We could go explore the gardens," he said, giving his wife a lustful look, his eyes trailing over her cleavage. Grace couldn't help it, she tensed immediately. She didn't want to ruin Eleanor and Edwin's night, but at the moment, the presence of her friend was all that was keeping her sane.

Because, unfortunately, she wasn't having a nice coze in the corner with Nell and her husband. No, there was a fourth standing with them. Silent. Watchful. Standing far too close to her shoulder. And Grace desperately did not want to be left alone with him. She knew that Eleanor sensed that immediately, and she felt both guilt and relief when Nell shook her head at Edwin and tapped his chest reprovingly with her fan.

"Absolutely not, you reprobate," Eleanor said chidingly.

"But sweetheart, that's what you like about me," Edwin said, his eyes darkening even further as he grabbed Eleanor's hand and held it to his chest. The look that Eleanor gave back to him said that she'd love to go exploring the gardens with him, but she still shook her head. Grace watched them rather wistfully, although she was sure that her envy was hidden behind a suitably blank expression.

"We could go explore the gardens." Alex's deep voice rumbled in her hair, sending shivers dancing up and down Grace's spine. By the time she looked over her shoulder at him to pierce him with an icy glare, she had her reactions back under control.

She didn't say a word. She didn't need to. The bastard just smiled at her, his eyes glowing as they traveled down from her face and straight into her cleavage.

Grace had dressed to impress tonight. She'd played up her creamy skin and dark hair with a rich, ruby dress, trimmed with navy blue lace, to go with the sapphire and rubies around her neck and in her hair. The sapphires were too dark to match her eyes, but she knew that she looked stunning, nonetheless. Alex hadn't been the only one looking her over appreciatively this evening.

Not that any of the men who had come forward had lingered. Without saying a word, Alex's looming presence had somehow gotten across the message that Grace was off limits. She wasn't entirely sure how he did it, but every single man who approached walked away within a few minutes after exchanging no more than a few pleasantries.

Turning away from him, she tapped her foot impatiently, only to realize that she was tapping in time to the music. Again.

"Dance with me, Grace."

She sighed. All night Alex had been asking and she'd been refusing. This time, it sounded more like an order than a request. Maybe if she danced with him, he'd leave her alone.

"Fine." It wasn't the most gracious answer, as she held out her hand, but Alex bowed over her fingers anyway, entirely courteous, before leading her out onto the floor.

Of course it was a waltz. He held her far too tightly, his hand splayed over her back as he began to rotate, inserting them between the other couples, masterfully maneuvering her around the floor. Alex had always been a wonderful dancer. It felt like her skin was becoming tight, having him touch her and hold her this closely.