A quick tug at the hem of her gown, and she lowered herself to her knees before him.

  His exhale came on a shuddering breath. “Julia.”

  She licked her lips, unsure of what to do now that she’d brought herself to the cusp of it. But keeping her hand wrapped around him, she drew him into her mouth. Only the tip of him, at first, but even that was enough to make his entire body flare up, as though lit by a fire sparked to life with that first touch of her tongue.

  She let him guide her after that, his reactions, his words, the gentle thrust of his hips as she took him deeper. Her own hips squirmed as she pleasured him, as she imagined him filling her up down there, driving into her with all of his need and his passion until they both burst apart at the seams.

  “Not yet,” he ground out, and dragged her back up to her feet before he finished, no matter that he had seemed close to coming in her mouth and her hands. He guided over to the bed, turning her away from him. She knew what he wanted, and she bent forward over the end of the bed, tilting up her hips as he pulled up her skirts, as the chill air of the bedroom touched her bare thighs and her bottom.

  “Please,” she said, wanting him inside of her with such desperation she was almost in tears. “Now, please!”

  He placed his hands on her waist, just above her hips. He pulled her back to meet him as he thrust forward, burying himself inside all the way to the hilt.

  It wasn’t a gasp that slid out of her. Instead, it was a long, breathless keening of want as she gripped the blankets, as she tipped herself towards him. He released one of her hips to reach around her waist, to dip down and find that hot, throbbing place between her legs. A few flicks of his thumb and she fell over the edge, crying out into the blanket as his own release slammed into him behind her.

  He fell onto the bed beside her, pulling her towards him so that her back was tucked against his chest.

  “Dear God,” she said, when she could dare to speak again. “Surely it cannot always be like this, can it?”

  He laughed softly and kissed the back of her neck. “Let’s see where we are in ten years, shall we?”

  “Ten years?” She rolled onto her back to look up at him. He was all disheveled and sweaty, and bearing that heavy-lidded gaze he always wore after their lovemaking. And it made her want to pull him back on top of her all over again. “We’ll both be worn out from exhaustion by then.”

  “No.” He shook his head and kissed the tip of her nose. “You give me a strength I’ve never had before. I’ll live to be a hundred if only so I can keep waking up with you beside me.”

  “So young?” Her fingers grazed his jaw, her thumb at the corner of his mouth coaxing a wider smile from him. “I would’ve wagered our having at least another eighty years together.”

  He laughed and kissed her full on the lips. Her hands slid up between them to grasp the collar of his shirt, to tangle in the loose remains of his neckcloth.

  “This infernal thing,” he growled, and pulled the length of the fabric free from around his neck. “I should take on the guise of a cantankerous old man, aged beyond the rules of dress and etiquette required for everyone else.”

  Julia plucked up the discarded neckcloth and slowly drew the fabric between her hands. “We can use them to sew new gowns for Zora’s dolls, or make a lead for Ellen so she can be taken out on walks across the lawns.”

  Alexander teased it from her fingers, pulling it taut while his expression took on a pensive cast. “I think we could find a few uses for it, if we’re creative enough.” He looked at her with a new light in his eyes, eager and lustful. “That is, if you’re not already tired out for the night.”

  She swallowed. Inside her gown, her breasts ached, and the muscles between her legs tightened again in anticipation. “What did you have in mind?”

  He wrapped the cloth around his wrist, holding it tight before he released it and let it slip sinuously from his arm. “Do you trust me?” he asked, his eyes sparking with fire, his grin irresistible.

  “Always,” came her reply, before she leaned forward and kissed him.

  Acknowledgments

  * * *

  I know that I’m going to forget someone, so I will start off with a vague and generic “Thanks to everyone who helped during the creation of this book! You know who you are!” *wink*

  Now, onward toward specifics: Thank you to Kay Villoso, for listening to me work out this story, for egging me on, for making up silly placeholder titles halfway through the story that still make me grin. For putting together the lovely cover that graces the front of this book. For being not just a fantastic writer friend, but a great friend, full stop.

  To C.M. Caplan and Krystle Matar for their never-ending enthusiasm and cheerleading. You called yourselves the reverse Statler and Waldorf, and I cannot think of a more fitting title.

  To my Patreon readers who were the first to read an early draft of this book and fall wholeheartedly in love with it, thank you so much, and I hope you know how much motivation you gave me to keep writing.

  To the Terrible Ten, for their constant support and writing (and life) wisdom, thank you.

  To my family, for always being there, for letting me love you and — for some reason — loving me in return. Without you and your support, this book would absolutely not exist.

  To my readers, thank you for being such a wonderful audience.

  Thank you for reading!

  * * *

  You can also find me at…

  Facebook Quenby Olson Author

  Twitter @QEisenacher

  Buy On Amazon

  Quenby Olson on Goodreads

 

 

  Quenby Olson, The Scandal of the Vicar's Wife

 

 

  Thank you for reading books on GrayCity.Net
Share this book with friends