Page 99 of Unraveled By the Duke
A very good disguise, but I see through you, Celia. The glasses are just enough to break up the shape of the face and distort the eyes. Makeup to change the curve of the cheeks and make the nose look bigger. Quite remarkable.
“It did not hurt that she became firm friends with my wife from their first meeting. She went beyond the call of duty after that.”
He called, and the young man revealed a hand that was superior to his. Alexander smiled, raising his tankard in salute.
He opened his mouth to speak when his eyes were drawn to a figure beyond the young man, sitting at another table and engrossed in a glass of wine and a game of chess. Engrossed except for the surreptitious glances he cast at Alexander.
A shock of brown hair was combed low over his face. A floppy brown hat covered one side of his face while baggy clothes disguised his figure.
Alexander colored as he realized his mistake.
Celia winked from beneath her disguise, moving a queen and declaring checkmate against her opponent. The man threw down his purse and raised his glass to her. She scooped it up and executed a courtly bow before she took her leave.
Alexander got up to follow, ignoring his friend’s protests. But by the time he had reached the door, Celia was nowhere to be seen.
He strode out to the middle of the Strand, turning slowly. A shadow flitted between two buildings, heading toward the river. Alexander gave chase.
He reached the steps leading down to the river in time to see Celia pushing a boat from the shore and into the river.
“I win!” she called out.
Alexander looked up and down the river but could see no other boats. He certainly wasn’t prepared to swim in the Thames. Then, he spotted a wooden derrick that hung out into the river, a wooden tackle and rope dangling from it. If he missed his timing, he would look foolish, swinging back and forth while his wife sailed away.
He dashed along a jetty, grabbed the rope, and leaped out over the water. When he passed over the boat, he dropped, landing with a thump onto the gunwale. Celia was laughing as he pushed himself up. She tossed aside her wig and the coat she was wearing.
“I had you, admit it. I said you would not know I was there,” she crowed, sitting as Alexander loomed above her, causing the boat to rock from side to side.
“Briefly. But I recognized you at the end, though I doubt anyone else did,” Alexander countered.
Celia grinned, kicking off her boots and tugging the shirt she wore from beneath her breeches. She pushed herself off the seat and into the bow of the boat, its sides hiding her from the view of anyone watching from the riverbank. Alexander stepped closer, a titan straddling her where she lay.
She was now unbuttoning her breeches and slowly sliding them down her hips.
“I have not stood by and watched another man undress before,” Alexander admitted.
“I have much experience in undressing a man. My husband can attest to it.”
“And what would he think of us bobbing on the river, alone?”
“Bobbing? Is that what you call it?” Celia teased.
Alexander drank her in. She wore just a shirt now. It hid her shape but stopped just below her hips, revealing everything now that her breeches were gone. Alexander let his coat fall from his shoulders, then stripped out of his waistcoat. He pulled his shirt up over his head, standing over his half-naked wife like a colossus, his hands on his hips.
She could see his manhood through the fabric of his breeches. See its fullness and size. See how the sight of her in a man’s shirt engorged it beyond what might pass for normal desire.
Celia smiled, slowly pulling her shirt over her waist. Her womanhood was revealed, dark between milky white thighs. Then her flat stomach. Then her round, pert breasts. As Alexander stooped to help pull the shirt over her head, she stopped him with a foot to his chest. She kicked him back, shocking him. He stood, at bay for the moment at least, breathing hard and waiting.
Her foot ran down his stomach to his bulging manhood. Alexander bit back a groan as she rubbed back and forth, eventually bringing her other foot into play, his member between them.
Finally, the teasing became too much. He seized an ankle in each hand and forced her legs apart.
In the narrow space of the rowboat, Celia’s feet hung over the gunwales. She panted like a feral creature, her desire plain in the tight expression on her face.
“It is a full moon tonight,” she breathed.
Alexander looked up, seeing the bright white circle where it stood proud between clouds. “And?”
“For our pagan ancestors, this would be deemed a good time to conceive,” she said in a husky voice.
