Page 58 of This and Every Life
“Art?” I ask when he doesn’t say a word.
He lets out a tiny laugh. And then another. My insides swell as his beaming grin finds me, his brown eyes so very bright.
“I quite think I like your new cock.” He laughs once more, a joyous sound. “Will you use it on me again?”
I kiss him. As hard as I dare. Arthur works to loosen the straps around my hips. He spins me the moment the cock drops to the bed, his dark gaze sending a delighted shiver down my spine.
“May I suck you, my love?”
I nod rapidly at the request, and Arthur scoots down my body. I grab onto his hair as he settles between my legs, his mouth and tongue wet, the sensation divine as he drives me relentlessly toward orgasm. It hits me like a cascade of sparks,warm and all-encompassing, my back arching up off the bed as I see my own version of a constellation.
Arthur keeps at it lazily until I give his hair a tug. The ivory cock rests beside us, Arthur’s head on my thigh now as we work to catch our breath. His fingers stroke over my hip, and I realize he’s tracing the indentation from the straps.
“It wasn’t uncomfortable,” I assure him.
“Even when you were moving?”
“Even then. It felt quite…heavy. In a good way. I liked it, Arthur. It felt as if it were mine.”
He kisses my thigh, turning his face up to look at me. “It is yours. It was remarkable.”
“Truly?”
“Yes. It took some adjusting, and I won’t lie and say there wasn’t a hint of pain. But it was entirely worth the end result. Not to mention the look on your face while you were inside of me.”
My cheeks heat as Arthur’s fingers trail over my stomach. The man himself lifts after a moment, crawling over my body to give me a slow kiss that steals my breath. His expression is one of mischief as he leans back, his thumb running over my bottom lip.
“Did you enjoy fucking your husband, Mr. Kane?”
My breath catches anew, and Arthur grins.
“Mm. Thought so.” He kisses me again. “Shall we clean up?”
With a nod, I let Arthur lead me from the bedchamber. We take care of our own cleanliness, as well as that of the fake cock, and then we head downstairs for a rather late breakfast.
Ella is the only one in the kitchen, preparing a dough for bread baking.
Arthur greets her warmly. “Morning, Ella. Don’t worry yourself over us.”
She smiles bemusedly as Arthur heads for a small tray of tarts and biscuits nearby. He grabs it, as well as a jar of jam and a knife, before meeting me at the table.
We eat our breakfast as the house staff moves about, tending to their duties. A blush returns to my cheeks every time I look at Arthur and remember our morning together. His broad body at my disposal. The sound of his delight. My name rolling off his lips as he spilled onto his stomach.
He catches me watching him and sends me a wink.
We take a walk around the gardens late morning. The roses are no longer blooming, the last having wilted over a week ago. A scattering of petals lie below the sprawling bushes, the color that of dried blood. I press one with the toe of my boot.
Arthur seems to sense my indrawn mood, his voice softly questioning. “Charlie?”
“Is a rose without petals still a rose? Or is it only a bush?”
He hums, his hand clasped with my own. “It’s still a rose, surely. Otherwise we wouldn’t wait for it to bloom every summer.”
“And if it never blooms again?”
Gentle fingers lift my chin, Arthur’s eyes finding mine. “If it never blooms, does it not still have its thorns? Is it not still a rose at its roots? What is it that’s troubling you, Charlie dear?”
“I wish to cut my hair.”
