Then he was there, at her sex, and her eyes flew open. Her husband was staring at her flushed face, capturing every nuance of her passion filled expression. She was exceedingly embarrassed. “Sebastian—”
He slid a finger deep inside her. That hard but wonderful sensual stroke robbed her of breath, and she stared at him helplessly. How indecent of them, with his outer office bustling with activities only a few paces away. As if he knew her thoughts, the devil smiled at her and dipped his head, so his breath feathered across her lips. “You must be very quiet.”
Her eyes widened.
Then he pulled back his finger and plunged them back into her clenching sex. Fanny fisted his jacket tightly, at the pleasure that punched deep in her stomach.
“I love how wet you get for me,” he murmured, kissing the tip of her ear. His lips dipped to touch the spot below her ear.
She buried her hot face against his chest, softly moaning when he added another finger. Thankfully there was no pain, only a slight pinch as her flesh adjusted to the tender invasion. He stroked her over and over, until hunger clawed through her, fighting to break free. The piercing sensation became so much, she bit into his chest, muffling the moans she was unable to suppress. He groaned, and nudged her legs wider, pushing his fingers diabolically deep.
Fanny bucked, released his clothes and flesh from her teeth and glanced up. His eyes raged with need and lust and tender emotions as he loved her with his fingers. She trembled as if fevered, and then the tight, exquisite feeling broke, and pulse after pulse of pleasure stormed through her. How utterly glorious. He kissed her ravenously as she writhed against his touch, drinking her cries, and caging her into the strong comfort of his arms.
He pulled from her and tugged her dress back down over her thighs. She was uncomfortably aware of the wetness between her legs, and how wickedly they had behaved.
Sebastian stepped away. “Are you well?”
Fanny sighed, feeling languid in the aftermath of such startling but wonderful pleasure. “Yes.”
“I will summon the carriage.”
She nodded wordlessly, her eyes widening at the visible bulge at the front of his trousers. A desire lingered within her to please him, but she could not bring herself to make love with him in his office! She relaxed when she realized he would not offend her modesty by asking or seducing her to it, which he could have done for she had been witless just now.
He opened the door and relayed orders for the carriage to be readied. Fanny lifted her chin and met his gaze when he turned around. His expression was a tight grimace of need and discomfort, and she marveled at his restraint. “I will see you at dinner,” she murmured.
There was the slightest of hesitation, then he said, “I have a prior engagement.”
“Of course,” she said politely, pinning the hair he had tumbled. “I’m to attend Lady Wembley’s ball tomorrow evening. I know you dislike such frivolities, but will you attend with me if you’ve no prior engagement?”
“You seem to be laboring under a grievous misapprehension. Anything you wish of me, Fanny, I will gladly oblige. You are my wife.”
Pleasure burst inside her, like the heat of the sun after a cold winter. “Thank you, Sebastian, I have also accepted invitations to several balls for the season. I’m sure we will be the butt of much speculations.”
“I’m not the sort of man to be afraid of rumors.”
Relief filled her. “I would appreciate breaking fast with you on occasion.”
He smiled. “Done.”
Settling her hat atop her head, she gathered the small basket and made her way from his office, conscious of his stare.
“Fanny?”
She paused, her hand on the doorknob, and glanced back warily.
“My previous engagement was a dinner affair at my friend’s house. Percy Taylor. There will be others. Actors and actresses, lawyers, artisans, and even a few rising stars in politics, not the general lot you socialize with. Would you like to attend with me and meet my friends?”
He had offered a bridge, and a lump formed in her throat for it was a connection to a world she had never explored, and one no doubt her family would be appalled to know of. For so long her life had been about learning how to become a lady. It finally dawned that being married to this man, she would have to dismiss some of the lessons taught by her mother and governess. Fanny wasn’t sure if she should be appalled or fascinated. “I would love it, Sebastian,” she said unable to stop the brilliant smile curving her lips. “Thank you for asking.”
“Thank you for accepting.”
He seemed bemused as if he had anticipated her
refusal, and she quite enjoyed that she had surprised him. Fanny sailed through the door, feeling hopeful, and astonishingly breathless. Footfalls behind her alerted her to her husband's presence. She remained silent as he escorted her down the steps and toward the carriage. Fanny paused at the flower seller, shocking the woman by offering her a ten-pound note for the entire cart with orders to deliver them to the hospital. Sebastian assisted her into the carriage and ordered the coachman to take her home and never return her to this part of the city. She gasped in outrage, but the equipage rumbled away before she could rebuke his high handiness.
Fanny smiled. He made her feel more in a couple of weeks than the marquess had made her feel in months of courting. This was a second chance to fall in love, and she did not want to shy away from it. In truth, that would be very silly when she was already married to Sebastian. Their union was permanent, and she felt the sweetest longings stirring in her heart for his touches, his smiles, and she would embrace them.
Chapter 9