She took a tentative step, and then another, and another. She walked her pretty ass over to the edge of the bed and stopped. He groaned from the sight of her muscles flexing and shifting as her long legs moved across the distance. She turned to him even though he knew she couldn’t see him through the blindfold.
“What do you want, Marianne?” he asked.
“I want you.” She trembled with need, her breasts vibrating, the nipples hard and peaked.
“How do you want me, my beauty?”
“Inside me. I want your cock inside me.”
Her pleading voice flipped a switch in his brain. Any control he had maintained throughout the evening simply evaporated all in an instant. He was on her before he could suck in another breath, his hands pushing her torso down on the bed and then gripping to frame her hips. Going at her from behind this way made his cock jerk, like a leaping stallion trying to mount a mare. He became a beast of sorts, wicked and decadent and primal.
Marianne’s breaths were labored as he split her legs further apart. He could smell her tangy essence blooming for him, wet and hot and ready to receive him. Guiding his cock to her entrance, he sheathed himself to his balls in one claiming stroke. The sweet, tight grip of her pussy was so good he thought it a kind of pain, but one he could seek again and again and again. Her heavy breaths stopped when he impaled her, in shock most likely, but she took him all the way to the root without complaint and then ground back as if she could take even more.
She’s so damned perfect!
He had her hard. No doubt about it—this was a hard fucking. But right now, he needed it. Later he could be gentle and slow, but first he had to feed the beast in him. There was only one thing on the menu for the beast, and it was sweet and pink and situated right between Marianne’s thighs. He could get inside her deeper in this position than in any of the other ways. Oh, glorious heavens, he thought, please never let it end!
Pumping fiercely, he ground into her like a madman, time slipping away behind a veil of carnal sensation. He had no idea how long he fucked, if it was a second, a minute or an hour, who knew?
He reached down a finger to glide over her clit and the second he did, she came, all at once, clenching and shuddering beneath him. Her orgasm ignited his own release. It was nirvana to pleasure her, to feel her body tense up, to hear her cries. He felt his own need bubble up and overflow like wine from a cask. Her glorious response pushed him over the edge where he could embrace the end he sought so desperately. With a shout and a hiss and a gush of hot seed he melded into her and, for one brilliant instant, knew absolute heaven.
About an hour later she was languid and sleepy in his arms—a well-ridden, thoroughly sated, and stunningly sensual woman. Her blindfold long removed, she had crawled up on him, her head at his chest where she kissed and trailed her sweet lips up to his jaw and his shoulders.
He thought about all that he had known about her before and all that he knew about her now. Darius was happy to realize he’d been correct in predicting the passion in her. His Marianne was a siren in bed. She was also affectionate, and he adored her touches and gestures. After they made love like this, he liked to hold her close against his body, kissing and stroking over her skin. Whenever she did the same to him, his heart swelled. Marianne made him feel victorious, like a warrior, strong and powerful. But there were many facets to her, and in some ways she was more of a mystery now than before. He sensed a kind of darkness in Marianne and that was a concern. Darius knew his feelings for her were growing stronger with each passing day, and with those feelings the urge to protect and secure her happiness however he could.
“Cara, why did you seem sad when Lord Rothvale asked you about your drawings?”
“Did I?”
“Yes. To me you did. And he even patted your hand to console you a little, it looked like. Why does drawing the sea make you melancholy?”
She sucked in a quick breath before answering. “I think it’s because the sea is so demanding.”
&nbs
p; “Demanding?” Her explanation struck him as odd. “In what way?”
“No matter where I go, the sea calls to me, and it has for a long time. I cannot get away from the pull of the waves, and I fear it will always be so. Somehow, capturing one moment of time depicted in a seascape is soothing for me. That’s why I only draw the—” She shook her head and looked at him. “Enough about that. I want to talk about you. Lord Rothvale is serious about you making a run for the House of Commons, and I think he is right. You would be very good, Darius…”
He smiled and kissed the top of her head, thinking about how she’d just avoided his questions so neatly. Marianne was loving and kind and attentive. He could not fault her as a wife in regards to how she embraced her many duties and responded to him. And he believed her sincere. So why then was there this persistent nag in the back of his mind telling him that Marianne wasn’t being completely honest?
Chapter Twelve
A week passed before he said it again.
Marianne searched in all of the usual places. She’d come to her study to review the housekeeping accounts, but the books weren’t here. Her desk had been rearranged as well. Very odd. She would inquire to Mrs. West and get to the bottom of the mystery. Shuffling through another drawer in her quest, she didn’t hear him come in.
“Looking for something, my darling?”
“Oh, Darius. Yes, actually. I came up here to review the accounts, but I cannot find the housekeeping books. They are nowhere in this room that I can see, and someone’s been fumbling around my desk.”
“Well that’s no good at all. We must find the culprit and see to a swift punishment.” He walked over and pulled her up.
Marianne knew he was up to something as soon as he started in on the teasing. She could smell it on him.
“What do you know, Darius?”
“Only that your neck flushes when you get frustrated.” He smirked. “And you get a little crease, right here, between your eyes.” He brushed the place with his lips.