In the Widow's Bed

Unlocked.

A smile burst from his lips as the door glided open silently. He glanced into the darkness within. Had she left the door open willingly or merely forgotten to lock it against him? He took a pace into the room and stopped. Moonlight gave the chamber an eerie quality and he gulped at the deep silence. Was she even here at all?

He took another step, turning so he could see the bed fully. His pent breath rushed from his lungs. A lump lay under the covers and while he stared, Phoebe’s legs shifted restlessly. He approached the wide bed, pulse pounding loud in his ears. Phoebe shifted again, sitting up as he neared and he crawled onto the bed to kiss her. His lady didn’t resist him. She opened to him, letting him take her desire to mingle with his. Her hands plowed through his hair, tugging him tight against her as he teased her tongue, breathed her scent, and vowed to hear her beg for him before the night was through.

Phoebe fell to the mattress, dragging him with her as she went. He fumbled with the covers until their bare skin slid against each other. The hard points of her nipples grazed his chest, dragging a groan from her lungs. She was so tiny in comparison, small, delicate and soft where he was hard. Yet she clutched at him with ravenous enjoyment, slid her fingers over his back and sides as she urged him to cover her with his body.

The temptation to plunder, to dominate overwhelmed him. Yet he wouldn’t rush the moment. He hovered over her, keeping their hips apart while he kissed her as he’d wanted to all through dinner.

“You looked beautiful tonight,” he whispered when their lips parted.

Phoebe’s hand skimmed over his side, curling downward to capture his cock. “Thank you.”

Jonathan grabbed her wandering hand and pressed it to the mattress. “What I really wanted to do was toss you up on the table before me, tug the gown below your breasts, and shape them with my hands.” He pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “I’m told smooth polished wood feels wonderful upon the skin. Have you ever made love upon a dining room table?”

Phoebe pressed her free hand over her face. “No,” she squeaked.

Jonathan dragged her fingers to his mouth and pressed kisses to each knuckle. When he slipped them into his mouth and sucked, Phoebe squirmed. He released them with a contented sign. “I’d love to see you spread over my dining table, legs wide as I sit between your thighs. You’re all the meal I would want.”

He fell to the mattress, lying on his side so he could touch his lover with ease. Her thigh slipped over his and he urged her closer by tickling between her legs.

Phoebe’s hips thrust toward his hand so he dug a little deeper, slicking his fingers in her abundant moisture. Her hips arched as he invaded. “Have you been teasing yourself without me here to watch you? Tsk, tsk. I might have to spank you for that.”

Her hand wrapped around his cock and squeezed. “If you try to spank me I’ll banish you from my bed.” Phoebe began a lazy stroke, sliding her soft hand over him in maddening passes.

Jonathan inserted two fingers deep in her body, and then slowly fucked her with them. When she was gasping, burying his fingers deeper to increase her own pleasure he leaned close to her ear. “Many women get excited when they’re spanked. Don’t discount it until you try.”

Phoebe tightened her grip. “You believe you’re the only one skilled at seduction, don’t you? Take your fingers out of me.”

Reluctantly, Jonathan complied. He’d never force his desires on a woman, and if she didn’t like what he did then he’d certainly stop. When she moved and her hair skimmed his chest he gasped aloud.

Beautiful Lady Warminster, intelligent and highly aroused, climbed to her knees above him. As she pried his stiff length up from his belly and lowered her head to taste him, Jonathan anticipated soft kisses. His thickness prevented many women from taking him into their mouth, yet Phoebe persevered until she had his head nestled between her lips. The warmth from her wicked tongue as it skimmed over his skin dragged a gasp from him. Not many women wanted this, to pleasure a man so intimately. Yet the delighted hum, and fevered attention, proved Phoebe wasn’t prudish in the least.

Jonathan settled against the pillows, delighted by the revelation. Given her adventurousness tonight, he wondered if there was anything she wouldn’t do. With luck, and her

agreement, they’d have plenty of time for experimentation.

Phoebe wriggled on her knees, swaying her bottom enticingly. Jonathan couldn’t help but lay his palm over her skin and then raise it to deliver a stinging slap. Teeth clamped over his cock, not alarmingly firm, just hard enough to thicken him. Jonathan growled as he smoothed his palm over where he’d struck and when Phoebe’s jaw unclenched, he slapped her bottom again.

His cock popped from her mouth as she moaned. “Damn you.”

Jonathan dragged her up his body so they touched from chest to thigh then widened her legs until she was open for him. “You liked that. Don’t deny you’re not wetter because of those slaps.”

With a bit of juggling, Jonathan pressed the head of his cock to her opening, using his fingers to ease the way. Wet heat enveloped him as he nudged in an inch. Phoebe shuddered and then reared back, taking most of him into her with one smooth movement. The tight heat made his bollocks tingle, but he’d never wished for brighter light more. He wanted to see her bare skin, see his hands resting upon her thighs, and his cock invading her body.

Phoebe attempted to rise higher above him, but he didn’t want to lose the connection to her skin. He rolled them to their sides, drawing her thigh over his. When he bent his head to capture her lips, Phoebe eagerly pushed her tongue into his mouth. Together they gripped and slipped, fucking slowly as they explored wherever they could reach. Jonathan massaged her rear and noticed Phoebe had tensed. He waited for her to relax again before he smacked her delectable arse. Phoebe shuddered and pinched his nipples hard.

The unexpected pain took his control. Jonathan slammed into her again and again, battering his way deeper, clutching her tight as the pleasure took over. Phoebe clawed at him until they were pasted together by their slick skin. He set his lips to the smooth curve of her throat and suckled as her fingers pierced the skin on his back.

When Phoebe’s back arched, body tensing from a release that shook the bed, Jonathan followed, pumping his seed deep within her, losing himself in the bliss of perfect passion. Phoebe breathed raggedly as he raised his lips from her neck. Her hands caught and clutched his head, forcing his gaze to hers. “Don’t you dare do that to me again. You might have killed me.”

Jonathan raised a brow, amused by her reaction. “Nonsense. A little death never hurt anyone.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

The mirror didn’t lie.

No matter how hard Phoebe peered into her looking glass, the evidence was right before her eyes, and before anyone else who glanced at her neck for that matter. Phoebe turned her head to stare at the incriminating imperfection on her skin. Selwood must have lost his mind completely to put her in such a position. She frowned as her fingers skimmed over the mark. How was she to hide something so vivid?