He looked down astonished at how thick she made him. He dipped his head to catch her eyes. “Mary,” she looked at him with the utmost vulnerability and trust anyone had ever given to him. He knew he was damned, but he was too far gone. “Trust me.”
She nodded and whispered, “Always.”
Then he pulled her wet cunny onto his arousal and gently pushed up against her.
“Oh my God, Gregory.” He could see the emotions flickering across her face, so acute as to almost include pain.
“Ride me. Use me to take your pleasure, just as you took your pleasure the other night. I want to see you come on top of me.”
Hearing that, Mary moaned and arched into him. Her breasts were cradling his face and he began to suck on her again. Her hands were in his hair now, holding him against her. Her movements were erratic, frantic to find her release. Until she opened herself up to more of who she could be. A woman. A woman with desires and dreams that if suppressed threatened to abandon her forever.
She gave in. She gave in to her body. To Gregory. She felt his rhythm and moved with him. She could feel his arousal sliding over and over and over again against the spot he showed her only two nights ago. How had she gone more than twenty years without knowing of its existence.
“This… this… what is it? This spot,” she moaned, “You showed me. What is it?”
Gregory trickled his kisses up to her ear. “There are many names. It is your clitoris, but my favorite name is the Altar of Venus.” He pushed against her.
“Oh my god. Oh my god, Gregory!” Her body was floating away from her, and all she could feel was him unimaginably growing harder. Then he grunted her name and they collapsed in each other’s arms.
Chapter 11
Gregoryawokehardthenext morning. He rolled onto his stomach remembering what had happened the night before, imagining he could still smell the faint scent of cinnamon. Imagining her soft, supple body underneath him. He had never before experienced the offbeat constraints of lovemaking that Mary had imposed, yet somehow it had been one of the most arousing experiences of his life.
While she had straddled him and glided up and down his shaft with her wet cunny, he had released his essence all over her thighs. All the while the wordminepounded his mind, it had taken all of his restraint not to thrust inside of her, but he couldn’t do so without her express permission. He respected her. He had grown up with her.
This was Mary. This. Was. Mary. Each time he said the words they held a different meaning. Who was this woman who had unleashed such a force of passion upon him last night? She certainly didn’t seem to be the little girl he had taught to fish.
No, this new woman was glorious. She was driven. She was wild. All of his life, he had known that she had looked up to him.
After experiencing Mary’s tumble over the edge with him, he couldn’t help feeling pleased, yet he couldn’t help feeling like a cad.
It wasn’t right to take Mary and introduce her to such sexual encounters before marriage. And under the guise of teaching her and attempting to push her away. Who was he fooling? He was hard pressed to believe himself anymore. Where was his honor? Should he offer for her? No one had seen them, but that wasn’t what honor was about. Honor was about his own personal integrity, being able to look himself in the eyes and be proud of himself and his decisions. He knew in the marrow of his bones that Mary wouldn’t be expecting marriage from him, but still.
He told Mary he wasn’t intent on proprieties, so she couldn’t claim ignorance. She knew he was looking for a duchess in Lady Lansdowne, so she couldn’t feign surprise.
Yet he couldn’t shake an unidentifiable feeling.
Gregory’s valet interrupted his recounting of the events from last night. Godfrey was a man of few words, and Gregory and him had come to communicate more often with subtle gestures than with full sentences.
Gregory pulled the covers open and slid out of bed to have himself readied for the day.
At breakfast he couldn’t help but feel a sense of anticipation to see Mary. Would she be embarrassed? Could he cause her cheeks to blush? When he saw her, what would it take to pretend as if nothing had happened?
The answer to that question came at the late morning line readings.
It was a rare occasion that Gregory and Mary were taking a turn on the floor. The play was near its end, and it was time for the prince to state his intentions with his mistress by claiming a scandalous waltz with her.
It should have been easy for Gregory to pretend as though nothing had happened the night before, for as surely as he could deter any debutante with his impassive mien, Mary’s face disclosed nothing.
He found himself wanting to provoke her. Did she so easily put last night out of her mind while he had been battling erotic images since waking up this morning?
Margaret and Lyle were discussing some props that liveried footmen had just brought in the door, so being an opportunist, Gregory reached out to tuck a loose strand behind Mary’s ear. The gesture could have been thought as tender, except he intended to prod more fiery emotions from her.
As he studied her face, a scowl flickered across her eyes, yet she maintained an impervious mask.
Glancing back at Margaret and Lyle, he saw them deep in discussion and took another chance. He allowed his hand to slip up her ribcage to just below her breast. Then his thumb had a mind of its own and began skimming the side of her breast. It had almost reached her nipple when he felt her entire body stiffen and her feet immobilize.
Gregory couldn’t help himself. He was lost in touching her, in recalling her rosy nipples and the taste of her silky skin.
