Baron of Blasphemy (Lords of Scandal 12)

His heart skipped a beat under her hand before the organ sped up. “Abby.”

She shook her head. “I know you’ll still run the club and perhaps you’ll want to return to your old life, but there are merits to being more domestic. I’m not entirely certain what they are, but I’m sure we could learn them together.”

Before she could say another word, she was on her back, his large body over hers, his mouth pressed to her lips in a kiss that claimed her very soul. When he finally lifted his head, she was panting again, her body aching for more.

“Let me tell you the advantages of being domestic…” And then he kissed her. “A woman to share a bed with every night who is warm, and soft, and fits against me like she was meant to be there. A woman who smells amazing and feels even better. One who is worried about my happiness and doesn’t judge me for my past.”

“Oh,” she breathed before his lips descended again. Her legs wrapped about his thighs and the head of his now-erect manhood pressed against her soft folds. “That was lovely.”

And then she tilted her hips, drawing him a bit further into her body. It burned a bit, as he was large, and it stretched her skin, but it felt…wonderful too.

But then he pulled away, removing himself from her.

Hurt burned down her throat as she swallowed and she dropped her legs from his, trying to turn away, but his weight held her in place. “Get off,” she choked.

“Abby,” he whispered close to her ear. He didn’t sound hard or annoyed, in fact his voice pleaded. “Let me give you this gift.”

She looked back at him then, wondering what he meant. “Gift?”

“Everything in our relationship has been so fast. It’s not that I don’t want your love. It’s that I want to spend some time building up to actual sex. This should be slow. I wanted it to be even slower, but I couldn’t resist touching you tonight.”

Her breath caught as she realized what he was trying to do. He wanted to make their marriage better for her and that touched something deep inside.

She nodded, her body relaxing back into the mattress.

He slid to the side and pulled her close again. “Now what do you say we get some sleep?”

He pulled her leg back over his body, her head on his chest. Sleep was a good idea. Tomorrow, she’d have to learn what it meant to be lady of the house.

But as she lay tucked into his side, a mixture of hope and worry filled her thoughts. They were both trying to make the most of this marriage, but she wasn’t entirely certain either of them would succeed.

* * *

The week had passed in a blur for Chad, he thought as he sat at his desk.

He’d reviewed the ledgers and been pleasantly surprised by the income his own estate was generating. It had been a good summer and between that and the club, along with Abigail’s dowry, he’d be able to eliminate his debts and begin on improvements to increase his profits.

Which meant he had enough funds for his wife to go shopping. She needed a new wardrobe as he had no idea how long their stay in the country would be.

And honestly, he wanted her to see him as the man that would provide for her, not Vanity.

His friend was proving a dratted nuisance and one that Chad would like to send packing back to London.

The problem was that Vanity had little to do here, and as the most classically handsome charmer Chad had ever met, Vanity spent a great deal of time talking with Abigail.

She, in turn, seemed to enjoy his company immensely.

Which only fueled Chad’s irritation.

That was his wife. If Vanity weren’t here for Abigail’s safety, he’d like to toss the man bodily from the property.

He’d never experienced jealousy like this before, and being completely new, he wasn’t quite certain what to do with it.

His answer was to spend longer and longer amounts of time pleasuring his wife in her bed.

He still hadn’t taken her maidenhead. Instead, he spent endless hours kissing every inch of her. Countless minutes whispering sweet words in her ear, and an infinite amount of time with his face between her legs.

She kept asking him about his family. She’d pulled countless stories from him about his mother’s dismissive cruelty and his father and brother’s more direct brand of torture. In turn, she’d told him about growing up in a family with bossy sisters but with parents who loved and guided their children.