Page 109 of Dick Stone, Regency Stud
He crowded her once more, forcing her little arse onto the dressing table. “Then it’s a good thing I’m Edward to you, Tabby.”
And he lowered his mouth to hers for his first kiss in a damn long while.
She was soft and slow, tentative as he recalled how to do this and guided her through it. When he sucked her lower lip and then upper, she moved against the fingers still within her channel, giving him license to drown her in sensation.
“Tabby, my Tabby cat, any way you’ll have me,” he whispered as he peppered kisses over her tear-stained cheeks.
“Oh god, I wish you were inside me,” she sighed, almost as if she were as anguished by this stolen moment as he.
“But I am, darling,” he said, thrusting harder.
“Your cock. What would it feel like to have all of your seed inside my belly?”
Edward groaned, his boy jumping in response. She was going to kill him, flood his smalls with spend.
“You’d give it to me, wouldn’t you?” she asked plaintively. “Even if I’m not a fancy lady?”
He was on the cusp of telling her exactly what she meant to him, explaining just how much he adored her when he thought better of it and covered her mouth with another bruising kiss as he brought her to paroxysm at last on his slick fingers.
Tabby’s feet kicked slightly as her body shook under the force of the eruption, and she clung to him as she went through the waves of bliss.
Edward now sported a wet spot on his breeches simply from bringing the young woman he loved to pleasure. Mortifying, but still worth it to have felt her break on him once more without him spilling his feelings.
Nothing good would come of Tabby knowing the truth of his heart.
Chapter 7
It had taken aweek for the Shiny Tenth reunion house party invitation to materialize. While they waited, Edward trained Tabby.
He drew pictures of silverware they didn’t own, and they pantomimed eating from it correctly. He danced her around the small entrance to their rooms and got her to master a respectable curtsy. It wasn’t possible to make a lady of an urchin in a few days, but Tabby would do fine, especially since the company wasn’tsoexalted.
And when Tabitha inevitably trod on his shoe or playfully dropped her paper salad fork, Edward delivered punishments.
As they rode toward the manor owned by Lord Banastre’s elder brother — in a carriage the man himself had sent for their travels — he regarded his companion on the forward-facing bench.
She was prim and stiff in her new clothes, sitting next to the chaperone provided by this generous brother of Bonnie’s. Tabby was pretending to read from an improving novel, and he was pretending not to want to fuck her senseless on every surface of that carriage, Mrs. Harfagre, the chaperone, be damned.
When Tabby shifted on her seat, Edward’s eyes darted to her, wondering if she was comfortable. And wondering if she still felt the traces of those pleasurable punishments all over their rooms.
Her old gutter vocabulary had slipped out, so he’d introduced her to cocksucking. Her dress had risen to show an ankle, so he’d pulled the whole of her hems up and taken her from behind.
The reverse was true when she performed well. When they waltzed about the room and she failed to miss a step, Edward had dragged her to bed, stripped her of all clothes, and taught her to ride his face until she shook with pleasure over his mouth.
Just as Edward decided to grab Tabby from the bench, the carriage came to a stop.
“The Fitzwilliam Arms. Stopping to change horses. They do a fine stew for the midday meal,” announced one of the outriders.
Edward helped Mrs. Harfagre and Tabby down from the carriage, navigating them through the muck in the yard and into the snug inn’s dining room.
“Do you have a private dining room available?” asked Edward as if he were accustomed to traveling in the first state of fashionthese days. It was an extra expense, but Mrs. Harfagre was looking rather green around the gills. Almost as if she’d like the chance to hare off to lose her breakfast behind a hedge.
The innkeeper arranged a room without delay, and soon he and Tabby sat before a merry fire with the promise of a fine mutton stew and the day’s bread.
“Tabby, I’m desperate to touch you,” he whispered, the door to their dining room left open by the innkeeper, who no doubt thought they’d want to observe proprieties.
Edward most certainlydid notwant to observe proprieties. He wanted his suddenly prim little miss in his lap and, with luck and some maneuvering, riding his cock before the carriage was ready to proceed.
“But what about Mrs. Harfagre?” she asked, demure as any society debutante. It was almost as if…
