Page 18 of Swindled By a Spinster
She reached down and grabbed his arm by the wrist. He released the bed linen and groaned as she pressed her taut nipple into the center of his palm. Instinctively he cupped her full bosom, and with the fresh memory of how she felt in his mouth he rose and sat upright. She was a quick study no matter the topic, but especially when it came to his lessons in love making, not that they had progressed beyond touches and kisses.
Phoebe wrapped her arms about his neck and lifted herself up to press her lips to his. She had mastered the act of kissing. Skilled at adjusting the pressure of her lips, the twirl of her tongue and the occasional graze of her teeth over his lower lip. Phoebe could bring him to the edge of control in moments. With the knowledge that they would be wed, his willpower to resist taking her was in jeopardy. He should take control over thesituation or her enthusiasm to learn more might result in them not venturing downstairs for hours, because he’d not be satisfied with bringing her to climax only once.
“Pet, Archbroke and the others will awaken soon. We should…”
She silenced him with kisses. Not that he truthfully wished to stop. The minx pressed herself against him and he fell backward.
Lying atop of him, Phoebe kissed and nibbled her way along his jaw until she came upon his ear. “You like the danger of being caught.” Argh. She knew him well.
“Yes, pet. However…”
“No more howevers…no more excepts… no more excuses. We are to wed…thus your reasoning to stop is no longer valid.” She wiggled her hips against his erection that he knew would be difficult to ease without release.
“We should marry first.”
She pressed her palms to his chest and sat up. “You're not going to go back on your word, are you?”
“What promise did I make?” He covered her hands with his so that she couldn’t test him further.
Head tilted to the side, she gave him a wickedly tempting smile and said, “I believe you agreed to teach me everything as long as I promised to marry you.”
Torrance tried to recall his exact words. Had he really given her his word to do such a thing? It was plausible. There had been times he’d been desperate to grasp at any feasible reason to prevent him from taking her against a wall, in a darkened alcove, in an abandoned stable, in a conservatory… over the years there had been countless times and places he’d had to exert supreme self-control. Self-control that was slipping through his fingers like sand.
To hell with propriety. He’d never denied her anything she asked for before and he wasn’t about to today.
He tugged her forward until her breasts were pressed up against him once more and then rolled until they were both on their side. Tucking a wayward strand behind her ear, he asked, “You promise to marry me?”
“I promise.”
And with that, the last strand of self-control he possessed snapped.
He skimmed his palm along her side and down her thigh as he nimbly gathered the material of her slip until his fingers found her bare skin. Sliding his hand between her thighs, he slipped two fingers between her slick nether lips, searching for her sensitive bud. His cock ached with need. To join bodies was an intimate act that he didn’t take lightly. Since it was Phoebe’s first encounter, he wanted to ensure her experience was not only pleasurable but one she would wish to repeat often. Phoebe pressed her pelvis into his palm, increasing the pressure applied against the tiny mound that he circled over and over. He wanted to taste her like he had on occasion, but the need to bury his cock in her was becoming unbearable. The soft moans escaping Phoebe mirrored his own guttural groans.
“Torrance…please.”
Phoebe’s plea had him rolling on to his back and making quick work of divesting himself of his stockings and breeches. He turned to face Phoebe who was lying on her back, eyes closed, head thrown back as her fingers moved in and out between her legs like he had taught her. Damn. It was the most erotic sight to witness Phoebe pleasuring herself. He waited until she was about to climax before kissing her, muting her cries of pleasure.
Phoebe spread her legs and welcomed him as he positioned himself at her core.
He looked down at the woman who was to be Baroness Kilman. “Ready, pet?”
“Ready.” She stared directly at him, gaze filled with trust and wonder.
Torrance glided the tip of his cock along her slit and pushed into her tight passage until he came up against her maidenhead barrier. He pulled back and then forged forward, repeatedly until Phoebe’s fingers dug into his hips. She was wet and ready. He thrusted deep into her center and once more covered her mouth with his in hopes his kisses would distract her from any pain she might be experiencing.
Phoebe shifted her hand and placed pressure on his butt and motioned for him to move again. He did as she bid, moving in and out slowly at first until he couldn’t hold back any longer. Quickening his thrusts, he emptied his seed in her. It was his promise to care for and love her until her last breath. Unable to hold himself up much longer, he shifted to lie next to her so as not to crush her. Phoebe draped an arm and a leg over him and rested her head in the crook of his shoulder. Moments later he looked down at her and the minx was fast asleep.
Torrance smiled and closed his eyes. He was looking forward to the future. He may not be an agent for the Home Office with duties that provided adventure any longer, but he was certain that fulfilling the role of Phoebe’s husband and becoming father to her children would be far more rewarding.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Three weeks later…
Lillian’s private parlor was littered with fabric samples, discarded wedding lists, and notes filled with Lillian’s ideas on how to extract revenge. Phoebe appreciated her friend's assistance with all the wedding preparations, since her mama had declared she had other pressing matters to attend to rather than the doom of her daughter. Over the years, Phoebe had believed her parents’ lack of interest was to her advantage; however, of late it only made her feel rather empty.
“Hmm. How to best beat the scoundrel at his own game,” Lillian muttered.
Ruth took the quill from Lillian’s hand and set it down on the desk. “Don’t you think you have done enough to the poor man?”
