Page 23 of Betting on a Duke
“Mmmm,” was all that she was capable of saying because his lips were trailing down her stomach. His tongue swirled around her belly button, causing sensitivity overload. But he wasn’t done. He nudgedher thighs open and kissed her there, and she was thrown back in time to when she’d experienced this once before. The time she lost her innocence to Samuel. “Samuel,” she moaned as his fingers opened her folds, followed right behind by his tongue. He gently nudged her thighs wider, sucking her nub into his mouth, and she thought she would float right off the bed. When he added a finger, the trembling in her legs started. He stopped, lifted his head, met her eyes with a confident grin, placed her legs over his shoulders, and bent back down. A loud moan escaped her as his mouth and fingers took her over the edge into a world vibrantly alive and pulsating with pleasure.
He crawled up her body, placing butterfly kisses here and there, keeping her skin tingling. “You taste so good. I could do that for hours,” he said in a deep, guttural tone. And then he was kissing her in that raw and desperate way he had earlier. She felt the push of his manhood at the entrance to her channel, and she let her knees fall open. One deep push and he was completely inside her, her body stretching to accommodate his length and size.
His hips began to move, and she joined him in perfect rhythm. A rhythm as old as time. The closer they came to falling over the edge, the faster their bodies worked. Clarice put her hands on his hips, pulling him as deep as she could into her body and holding him there as her entire being trembled, and she felt her inner muscles clamping around Samuel’s member. A loud animalistic groan came from him, his body tensed, he groaned again louder than before, then collapsed down on her, nuzzling her neck. Her arms and legs were splayed out on the bed, trembling, yet somehow lifeless.
Samuel rolled onto his side, taking her with him. “I’m sorry, I must’ve been heavy,” he murmured into her ear as his arms wrapped around her.
“A little. But it felt good,” she sighed as she wiggled back against the front of his body. His chest hairs tickled her back. Being held against the hard, strong, and broad expanse of his chest made her feelsafe and cherished.
She almost thoughtloved, but it was too soon to bring love into the equation. Indeed, she knew without a doubt that she still was in love with Samuel. Always had been, always would. However, she didn’t want to put that pressure on him. It had been years, and perhaps he had feelings for another. She was the one who had asked him to stay. Led him to her bedchamber. Mentioned they were free and unmarried. She was anyway. But maybe he was courting someone. Or had a lady friend.
No. No. That couldn’t be right. Hadn’t he said he wanted to spend all his time with her before he left for Newmarket? Could his lady friend live in Newmarket? Oh dear, tears leaked from her eyes, and the last thing she wanted was for Samuel to notice.
“You’re being quiet? Are you regretting . . .”
“No. Never,” she interrupted. Even if it turned out he had a special someone, she would never regret what had happened between them. Sharing herself with Samuel before her marriage and dreaming about doing so again was what had kept her sane during her unpleasant marriage. Chesterfield was no kind old man. He was the type who snatched treats from babies, stole donations from the church, and looked down his nose at almost everyone.
“I apologize, but I must go.” His lips brushed the back of her neck. He climbed off the bed and pulled up the covers. She immediately missed his warm body against hers. With heavy-lidded eyes, she watched him dress. The bed dipped when he sat down and tugged on his boots.
“Must you leave?”
“We don’t want to make it easy on the gossip rags. With my carriage parked outside your townhouse all night, it would give them proof that we are having an affair. Even if I send it home, some busybody who prides herself on spreading the latest gossip—like Lady Hornsby, who lives across the street—would put the pieces together.”Once he finished pulling on his boots, he stood, leaned down, and brushed his lips across hers. “It’s probably too late for rumors, but I don’t want my late-night visit causing you any embarrassment.”
“Lady Hornsby does love to gossip, but believe it or not, since Chesterfield passed, she has been kind to me. I hope she will continue to be my friend and keep my private affairs to herself. She always did before.”
“I apologize for offending Lady Hornsby. Maybe I am mistaken about her.”
Clarice laughed. “Oh, she loves to gossip, just not about me or Letitia.”
He leaned in and kissed her again, this time lingering, sweeping his tongue in and tasting her, which sent heat rushing through her. “Good night. Sleep well, my love.”
He exited and quietly shut the door. She wasn’t worried about her servants seeing Samuel leave late in the evening or perhaps early in the morning, depending on the case. She had removed anyone who wasn’t loyal to her. Williamson, Mrs. Shelley, and the housekeeper, Mrs. Jones, managed them well. With a contented sigh, Clarice snuggled beneath the coverlet and fell asleep with a smile and a full heart.
“Good morning, my lady,” Mrs. Shelley said cheerfully as she entered her chambers as the next morning came all too soon. She placed her breakfast tray on the table next to her comfortable chaise longue and continued to open the curtains on the mullioned glass windows. “It is a lovely day. The sun is actually shining.”
Clarice blinked several times, adjusting to the light streaming through the windows. She pushed the covers off her, swung her legs off the bed, and stood with her arms up, stretching to ease the pleasant soreness in her muscles from last night. Her lips curled upward into a smile, and her cheeks warmed as the pleasant memories resurfaced. She slipped into her robe, which matched the night rail she had donned during the night, and made her way to the chaise longue,laughing as she relaxed on it.
“You’re in a good mood today, my lady. I take it the dinner party last evening was worth attending?”
“Hmmm, yes, Mrs. Shelley, it was. I ran into an old friend whom I haven’t seen since before I married Chesterfield.”
“I’m happy for you. You need more friends. If you’ll excuse me, my lady, I’ll leave you to your breakfast and come back in half an hour to get you ready for your Bond Street adventure with Lady Rutherford.”
“Thank you.”
No matter how hard she tried, Clarice could not stop staring at nothing and smiling. When she realized Mrs. Shelley would be back any moment, she drank her now lukewarm tea, ate her cold toast with jam, and her poached eggs. It wouldn’t do to have her stomach grumbling while shopping with Letitia. The two of them had only recently started going out shopping on Thursday mornings. Shopping while in mourning was not enjoyable. The two of them had been stared at and whispered about, so they’d stopped until both their mourning periods were over.
While Clarice waited for her maid, she opened the wardrobe and rummaged through her walking dresses, pulling out her favorite green one with a matching spencer. She laid the dress and spencer on the bed, then entered her dressing room where her hat boxes were stacked. Somewhere in the pile was a green bonnet to match her dress. Sighing, she decided to wait for Mrs. Shelley. No doubt, she knew exactly which hat box it was in.
“I see you picked your favorite green dress. It always highlights your brown eyes and the green hidden within. I’ll get the matching bonnet.” It took Mrs. Shelly two tries, and she found the correct box. “Ah, here it is. The flowers on the band just need a little fluffing.”
Clarice stood as Mrs. Shelley removed her robe and night rail, replacing them with a linen chemise, corset, and petticoat. Finally, herdress was slipped over her head and pulled down into place. The dress featured a scooped neckline and short, puffed sleeves trimmed with the same lace as at the hem. The high waistline was encircled with green ribbon, which Mrs. Shelley tied in the back with a perfect bow. She sat on the dressing table chair as Mrs. Shelley slid her stockings up to her mid-thigh and tied them with ribbon to keep them secure.
“Let’s do your hair,” Mrs. Shelly said as she picked up a brush and began to run it through her long tresses. “I swear your hair has grown and gotten thicker since yesterday.”
“I know. It’s too much,” she said with a frustrated exhale. She always wanted to have straight blonde hair.
“Most young ladies admire your hair. The color isn’t your typical plain brown. It has stunning auburn and blonde highlights. It shines in the sunlight and under lantern light. It also falls in soft, natural curls. I rarely need a curling rod, which is good because they can damage hair.”
