Chapter 32

"That was bad form." Catherine laughed, twirling her bat in her hand and gazing at Thomas over the net. "You really will have to do better this time."

Thomas grinned as he rubbed his chin, gazing at the shuttlecock lying on the ground next to him. He picked it up and held it against his bat before launching it over the net at a blistering pace.

Catherine backed up hastily, wildly flinging the bat at the shuttlecock, hoping it would connect with it. But the shuttlecock was traveling at such speed that it simply knocked the top of the bat, careering over it, intent on its trajectory. She whipped around. The shuttlecock was still flying through the air before it finally landed in the bushes beyond.

She sighed heavily, turning around again, putting her hands on her hips as she glared at her husband.

"That was not fair," she cried, stomping her foot. "You deliberately made it too fast for me to hit."

"Did I?" He was laughing. "You told me to do better. And so I did. It is not my fault that you missed the shot."

Catherine pouted before sighing again. She turned away to walk to the bushes to find the shuttlecock. This game was not going quite how she had intended at all. Really, Thomas was beating her into the ground.

She rustled through the bushes, searching for it, grumbling under her breath. She was the one who had suggested the game, knowing that she was very good at it. At least, she had always beaten Beatrice when they had played before she got married. It was one of the few outdoor activities that the Dowager Countess of Afferton would allow her daughter to play, believing that sports were unfeminine, and so they had played it quite often.

But having her husband as an opponent was proving very different from playing with her best friend. Beatrice flailed and missed the shuttlecock quite often. Her serve was limp, to say the least. Thomas was a different kind of player. He was competitive, had a good eye, unfailing energy, and seemed as determined to beat his wife as she was to beat him.

I wish I had suggested Pall Mall. I would have beaten him into the ground if we had played that game instead.

She kept rustling in the bushes, cursing as a twig stabbed her hand, which she withdrew hastily.

"Ouch," she cried, gazing at it. Was that a small splinter?

"You are taking your time." Thomas was suddenly beside her. "Have you not found it yet?"

"No," Catherine snapped, still gazing at her hand. "I believe I have a splinter."

Thomas sighed, turning to her, an amused look on his face. He took her hand, gazing at it closely.

"Let us go and sit near the gazebo," he said. "I can have a closer look there."

Catherine pouted but let him lead her towards the gazebo, underneath a tall elm tree, trying to ignore the thudding of her heart at the feel of his hand on her own.

He took off his jacket and laid it on the grass beneath the tree. Then they both sat down. He picked up her hand again, staring at it.

"Well?" Catherine gazed at him. "Can you see it?"

He sighed, shaking his head. "I am afraid not," he replied, grinning at her. "There is a slight scratch but no splinter."

"I do not believe you," she said, withdrawing her hand and staring at it critically. "I am certain I saw a small black mark beneath the skin…"

Thomas sighed, taking her hand again and examining at it. Catherine's heart was thudding hard now as she watched him slowly lift her hand to his mouth and kiss the scratch. His lips lingered on her skin.

"Oh," she sighed. "Oh…"

His eyes flicked to her face before he turned back to her hand. Now, he was kissing it all over, pressing his lips to the center of her palm, leaving long, lingering kisses that were turning her inside out.

"Better?" His voice was as soft as silk when he finally turned to her.

"Much," she whispered. "But just in case, perhaps you better kiss it better once more."

He laughed softly before turning back to her hand, an intent look on his face. Now, he was kissing each finger in turn, turning her hand over in his, so he could kiss the backs of them as well.

Catherine felt faint with longing. Her lips parted. She let out a small gasp when he took one finger in his mouth, sucking on it. Waves of sensation ripped through her. She tilted her head back, closing her eyes in ecstasy, letting the sensations flow unhindered.

Now, he progressed to her arm, trailing kisses along it until he reached her neck. She felt herself falling to the ground as he bent over her, nibbling and biting and grazing the soft skin with his lips.

Her eyes flew open when she felt him suck intently. It hurt… but the sensation was also so arousing that she started squirming, feeling warmth pool between her legs.

"We should wait," she gasped, feeling herself on the precipice of losing control entirely. "It is broad daylight. A gardener might catch us…"

"I cannot wait," Thomas growled, his voice thick with longing. "The gardeners are working on the other side of the garden today."

He stared at her, his eyes focusing at last.

"But we will wait if you truly want to. I will be disappointed, but I will live." He grinned, shrugging his shoulders, his eyes filled with a mischievous light. "It is quite an experience making love outside, you know."

Catherine felt a thrill run down her spine. She glanced around. All was quiet. She couldn't spot anyone. The only sound she could hear was the faint twittering of a bird in a tree.

"I… I suppose so," she whispered with a slight smile. "Is it very naughty doing it outside?"

"Very," he whispered back, his eyes half-hooded as he gazed at her. "So naughty, in fact, that I might have to take you across my knee and spank you."

Catherine burst out laughing. "You would not dare!"

"Try me," he challenged, his eyes twinkling wickedly. "Come and lie across me, and I will show you how to behave."

Catherine felt another thrill. Her heart thudding, she did as he said, squirming slightly as she lay across him. She could already feel his strong arousal, but he seemed intent on drawing it out. And she herself was too intrigued and aroused to mind at all.

She closed her eyes, feeling him lift the skirt of her gown and bunching it around her waist. She felt her face turn pink. She knew he was looking at her naked derriere.

"Beautiful," he murmured, his voice thick. "Just beautiful."

She gasped as he placed his hands there, caressing and fondling her behind, dipping one finger lower to the secret spot between her legs. Instinctively, she opened them. He was exploring her now, his fingers plunging into her moist depths, groaning under his breath.

Catherine gasped again, stiffening and arching, loving the feel of his fingers inside her, opening her up. A hot flush spread over her flesh like a fever. It felt so, so good…

Suddenly, she felt a light slap against her derriere. She yelped, and she tried to turn around to see what he was doing. But it was impossible. He had her pinioned like a butterfly to a page.

"Oh," she cried as he did it again. It didn't really hurt—more of a shock. And strangely, it was enhancing her arousal. "Oh…"

"Do you like it?" he whispered, his voice husky. "Do you want me to do it again?"

"Yes," she breathed. "Yes, I do."

He slapped her lightly again, plunging a finger deep inside her at the same time. Catherine squirmed, feeling almost lightheaded with excitement. She had forgotten entirely where they were and what anyone would see if they stumbled upon them. She was entirely lost in the moment.

Suddenly, he was moving, turning her around to face him. Desperately, he kissed her, parting her lips with his and fumbling with her bodice. She shuddered as he slipped a hand inside, squeezing and caressing her breasts, flicking her hard, erect nipples.

Catherine moaned. He ripped off her bodice, and his head bent to her breasts, taking a nipple in his mouth, sucking so hard that she cried out. Tremors of delight were running through her. She knew she couldn't take much more. She needed him inside her.

He moved away, gazing at her, his breath coming thick and fast. His eyes were unfocused, glazed with desire.

"I want you on top of me," he whispered. "I want to watch you."

Catherine gasped, feeling another hot sliver of desire as she registered how much he wanted her. He was already lying down, grabbing her hips and pulling her on top of him. He cried out with delight as she slid down on him, taking him in her moist warmth.

She arched her back, moving her hips, adjusting to the feeling. She had never been in this position before. It felt wonderful. She was in control, setting the pace. She gazed down at him, her lips parting as she started to move on top of him.

Thomas gasped, gazing up at her, his eyes shining, and he placed his hands on her hips, guiding her movements. They were slow and circular at first then as she grew bolder, she started to move quicker, bouncing up and down on top of him.

She gasped as he slid deeper, hitting a sweet spot that she had never felt before. Her eyes fluttered shut as she kept riding him, the sensation becoming deeper and fuller and sweeter. She felt him reach for one of her breasts, squeezing it, which intensified the feeling.

She was climbing now, her movements quickening again, straining against him, desperately seeking the release she needed. It was so close that she could almost see it thundering towards her…

Suddenly, she stiffened, her torso twisting as she climaxed, crying out in bewildered pleasure. It was so strong that she thought it was going to last forever—that perhaps she might reside in this paradise and never return to earth…

Thomas cried out, gripping her hips tighter, twisting. She felt warmth flood her, just as she hit the peak of her climax.

She collapsed on top of him, panting hard. He was panting, too. He gazed at her, pushing her damp hair out of her face, his eyes shining.

"That was incredible," he whispered. "You are incredible. You looked like a warrior queen riding into battle. I have never seen such a beautiful sight in my life."

"Like Boudicca, the Celtic queen, who decimated her enemies?"

"Exactly." He grinned at her. "Except the only thing you are decimating, my queen, is my heart."

Catherine laughed, falling off him and snuggling into his side. She felt drowsy and relaxed and altogether wonderful.

I never knew it could be like this. If I had known the truth of it, could I have resisted as long as I did?

She gazed at him, watching the sunlight play across his face, catching his eyelashes. Something deep stirred inside her. She knew, instinctively, it was him. She would never be able to feel this depth of emotion and sensation with any other man. It wasn't the act in and of itself—it was the man she was doing it with.

He was the only one. They fit together like two pieces of the same puzzle. They just worked. Even their insecurities—the things that had kept them apart—were almost the same. They both found it hard to trust, to let go, to open up to anyone, for fear of being hurt.

But with each other, they could find that safe place where they could be vulnerable.

Her heart was suddenly gripped with fear. The enormity of it. It really was like stepping off a ledge without being able to see what was beneath. How would either of them ever really know if the risk was worth it?

"Catherine." His voice was gentle, full of tenderness. "There is something I must say to you…"

But at that moment, they heard whistling from the other side of the gazebo. Hastily, they stood up, adjusting their clothing and smoothing down their hair.

"You have a leaf on your shoulder," Catherine whispered, brushing it off.

"And you," Thomas whispered, brushing another leaf off her arm.

Their gazes met and lingered. She felt as if she were drowning in his eyes. As if she could swim in them forever.

"Morning, Your Graces," a gardener called cheerily, bowing. He grinned. "A fine morning for it!"

"Yes," Thomas said, his gaze lingering on his wife. "It is a very fine morning for it, indeed." He paused, a wicked light in his eyes. "Another round of shuttlecock?"