Page 104 of The Rakehell of Roth
“Goodness, Clarissa, you smell like the floor of a public house.”
She gave an unladylike snort. “I donot! I am the bride. I smell like delicious.”
“Yes, dear, you smell like delicious.” Isobel signaled to a nearby footman and gave Clarissa a glass of water. “Drink this. You’ll thank me.” Obediently, she drank the water, and Isobel made her drink another. “Don’t want to be too pissed for your wedding night, do you? You remember the code?”
Clarissa brightened. “What would Lady Darcy do?”
“Exactly.”
Astrid laughed. “You two are ridiculous. Though I admit even I ask myself from time to time, whatwouldLady Darcy do? It seems you’ve spawned an entire generation of independent female thinkers.”
“That was the plan,” Isobel said.
Over the past year, she and Clarissa had mutually decided to retire the infamous Lady Darcy, despite her popularity. Her last letter to her adoring public had been equal parts heartfelt and scandalously vulgar, and had ended with an irreverent:now, piss off and make up your own minds! Seemed like her readers were vociferously taking her up on that.
Though Lady Darcy had retired from her writing career, she wasn’t totally gone. Isobel had also donated the dowry that Winter had put aside in a trust for her to a handful of women’s shelters in poorer districts in London in Lady Darcy’s name. She and Clarissa had also decided to set up the Lady Darcy Fund for deserving young women who wanted an education but did not have the means to pay for one.
A sudden wail made all three women perk up. Obviously exhausted and fighting it, James seemed to be throwing a tantrum. Winter made quick work of calming him down, though he hoisted him up on his shoulders and walked toward the house. Isobel met him at the entry, turned her face up for a kiss from her husband, and took the cranky toddler into her arms.
“Nap time,” she said.
“No nap, no nap, no nap,” he babbled. “Mama, no.”
“Yes, nap,” Isobel said and hugged him close, humming a lullaby softly under her breath.
By the time she’d climbed the stairs to the nursery, he was out like a blown candle. She tucked him into the cradle beside his sister’s, smiled at the nurse, and nearly crashed into her husband who was waiting outside the door.
“Do I get tucked into bed?” he whispered, nuzzling her ear.
As always, her blood simmered beneath her skin at the barest touch of his lips. “You’re a grown man and it’s not bedtime. And all the guests are downstairs.”
“I’ll be quick, I promise.”
His mouth found hers, and her fate was sealed. Once that man kissed her, she became his willing marionette, his to do with as he pleased. Winter’s clever tongue claimed hers urgently, leaving her breathless and wanting. Still kissing her, he scooped her up and walked briskly down a narrow corridor.
“Where are we going?” she mumbled against his lips.
“Somewhere private,” he said, dragging his mouth down the column of her throat, biting down and then soothing the sting with gentle licks. Isobel moaned, his mouth returning to drown out the sound before they could be heard.
Somewhere private turned out to be a small room that looked like it had belonged to a governess at some time. Neither of them cared by that point. The room was empty but for a rack that looked like a curious combination between a spinning wheel and a clothes press that stood at one end. Winter directed her to the strange object and spun her to face it.
“Hold the wheel and don’t move,” he whispered in her air. “And swallow those screams.”
Desire unspooled through her at the needy rasp of his command. Her trembling arms reached up and held on for dear life as he lifted her skirts and positioned himself behind her. The air kissed her bare buttocks when one foot edged her ankles wider, her frame forming an X.
“Winter…” she moaned, her body ready and weeping for him.
Without a word, he entered her in one slick thrust, filling her, his hands covering her mouth so her groans would not be heard. She was completely blanketed by him from head to toe, and she loved every domineering second of it. It didn’t take long for either of them to reach their peaks—hers following quickly on the heels of his.
“Winter, we’re going to have another baby,” she blurted.
He kissed her neck and loosened her numb fingers, twisting her around to face him. “I know.”
“Youknow?”
His eyes dropped to her swelling décolletage. “I kiss these beauties every night. You don’t think I’d notice when a handful turns into two?”
“Are you…pleased?”
