Chapter 14

T he gust of air that greeted Tom as he and Gwen stepped outside was decidedly brisk, but it felt nice after the heat of the cramped ballroom.

Someone must’ve cleared the path that afternoon, but another two inches of snow had fallen since then. He peered at Gwen out of the corner of his eye as she tiptoed along, trying not to soak her dancing slippers. God, but she looked a treat in that red gown. If there was anything better than a woman with a proper apple dumpling shop displaying her wares in red velvet… well, he certainly couldn’t think of it at the moment. What he wouldn’t give to peel that dress down and fill his hands with those glorious bubbies, which he’d been dreaming about for the last six months…

He shook himself. She was a lady, which meant she wasn’t for him. Well… that might not be strictly true. She was a Wicked Widow, after all, and the whole reason he had been invited to this ball was because the Wicked Widows were a daring bunch. Some of them would be looking for a strapping fellow to warm their bed on this cold winter night.

But Tom wasn’t sure if that’s what Gwendolyn was after, or if she was just being friendly. Their night together had been a one-time thing, extenuating circumstances and all that. Mustn’t go making assumptions.

They found a stone bench in the corner of the garden. Tom brushed the snow off so they could sit. “So,” Tom began, “you were going to tell me about your bees.”

“In her last few years, Aunt Agatha wasn’t able to spend much time tending her hives,” Gwen explained. “Out of the ten hives she kept in the backyard, only three of them are thriving. I’ll therefore be looking to establish some new queens in the spring.”

“Ah.” Tom didn’t know much when it came to bees, so he asked, “There’s just one queen per hive, right?”

“Correct.”

She shivered, so Tom wrapped an arm around her shoulders. He was gratified when she leaned into him. “So, the rest are all males, and it’s their job to wait on her hand and foot.”

“Not quite. Most of the hive consists of what are called worker bees, which are female bees who are not capable of reproduction. If you see a bee on a flower, it is almost certainly one of these worker bees.”

His fingers traced up and down the bare skin on Gwen’s upper arm. So bloody soft. “But they must have need of some males.”

“They do.” Was it Tom’s imagination, or had her voice gone slightly breathless? “Each colony has a smaller number of males, which are called drones?—”

“ Drones . Lovely.”

“—whose sole job it is to, um…”

She trailed off, and her cheeks turned pink. Tom couldn’t resist teasing her. “To service the queen?” He gave a low whistle. “Sounds like nice work if you can get it.”

“Well…” Gwen straightened her spectacles, shifting uncomfortably on the stone bench. “The queen only needs to mate infrequently.”

Tom arched an eyebrow. “Define infrequently .”

“Once every few years,” Gwen said in a rush. “In fact, some apiarians?—”

“Gwen, bun, you’re going to have to use smaller words. Apiari-whats?”

She shot him a rueful glance. “Apiarians. It means beekeepers. Some of them believe that a single mating is sufficient for a queen to remain fertile for her full lifespan.”

He gaped at her. “ What ? You mean these drones, whose whole purpose is to impregnate the queen, only get to swive her the one time?”

Gwen cringed. “If that. Although the number of drones is small compared to the number of worker bees, there can be hundreds of drones in a single colony.”

“So, most of them die without ever getting to make use of their wedding tackle.” Tom shook his head. “I take back what I said about it being nice work if you could get it. Poor drones.”

“Poor queen, too,” Gwen muttered.

An instant later, Tom felt her go stiff beneath his arm.

He couldn’t help it. He laughed.

“I-I mean,” she sputtered. “That is to say?—”

“’Course it’s sad for the queen. At least, if her drone knows what he’s about.”

She covered her eyes with one hand. “I didn’t mean to say that aloud.”

“But you did.” He gave her a squeeze. “I take it you enjoyed your single mating .”

She couldn’t seem to bring herself to look at him. “You know I did.”

He brought his lips close to her ear. “Doesn’t have to be just the one time, bun.”

At least she was looking at him now. More specifically, she was gaping at him.

When the silence stretched on, he wondered if he had offended her. “Gwen? You all right?” He rubbed the back of his head. “Look, I’m sorry if I?—”

“I have a room,” she burst out.

The tightness in Tom’s chest relaxed, shifting lower, becoming a tightness in his groin. “You do, do you?”

Gwen’s eyes were wide and had a wild quality to them. “I—I do.”

He brought his hand up, sweeping his fingers behind her ear and tracing a path down her neck. “And you’re suggesting that we go there. Together.”

His hand had reached her collarbone. He could feel her breath coming in pants beneath his fingertips. “Y-yes.”

He lowered his lips to her ear as his hand stroked the swell of her breast. As huge as his hands were, she filled them, like she was fucking made for him. He pressed a kiss against her ear, and she made a whimpering sound. His voice was deep as he said, “What the hell are we waiting for?”

They ran up the stairs hand-in-hand, glancing around to see if anyone spotted them and laughing as if they were ten years younger.

As soon as the door to Gwen’s room clicked shut behind them, Tom pushed her up against it, groaning as he caught her lips with his. She was right there with him, linking her arms around his neck and wrapping a leg around his calf.

He groaned as all her glorious softness pressed up against him. He broke off their kiss as he reached for the laces at the back of her dress. “Been thinking about this for the last six months.”

“I have, too,” she confessed, yanking at the gold buttons on his coat.

He groaned as he shoved Gwen’s dress down to her waist and her glorious breasts, all wrapped up for him like a Christmas present in her lace-trimmed corset, came into view. “Fuck me. These are just as gorgeous as I remember.”

Gwen had managed to shove his coat and waistcoat halfway down his arms. He obliged her by shrugging them off, then peeled his shirt up over his head and tossed it on the floor. He pushed her gown the rest of the way off then scooped her out of it, carrying her to the bed.

He lay down on his back and pulled her on top of him, curious to see what she would do with him. She promptly straddled him, lining her sex up with his engorged cock, rocking her hips back and forth as she bent down for a kiss. A second later, her eager fingers began exploring his chest. Fuck , yes. Wasn’t this what every man wanted? A beautiful woman in his bed who was just as eager for him as he was for her?

Tom began pulling at the ties of her corset. As much as he liked the way it displayed the goods, it had to go, and after a few fumbling attempts, he managed to get it off.

This left Gwen in her shift. Sitting up, she pulled it over her head and cast it aside. She reached for him and started to lower herself back down, but his hands caught her around her ribcage, staying her easily. “Stop,” he said, his voice an octave lower than its usual pitch. “I have to see you.”

Damn if she didn’t look like a fucking temptress with her tits out and that glassy look of pleasure in her eyes. He slid his palm up, slowly, temptingly, to cup one of those glorious breasts, and they both moaned.

“Still sensitive here?” Tom asked, rolling her large, rosy nipple between his fingers.

Her only answer was a little cry, which was fine by him. He sat up, urging her onto her knees so he could get his lips on her. She mewled her encouragement, so he tortured her there for a little while before giving her the same treatment on the other side.

By that point, she had started to beg, and he decided she was due for a little reward, seeing as she was being such a good girl and all. Gliding his hand up the inside of her thigh, he brought his fingers to her pussy. Soaked .

He groaned. Such a very, very good girl.

He was getting ready to reward her with a kiss there when she said in a breathy voice, “Do you know what I’ve been thinking about?”

“What, bun?” he asked, swirling his thumb over her bud.

She smiled, looking fucking well-pleasured, and he lived to see it. “About something you said to me… last time,” she said on a gasping breath.

“What’s that?” he asked, continuing to work her between those luscious thighs.

“You… you said if I was your girl, there were so many things you would show me.” She looked at him, eyes earnest. “Would you show me some of them tonight?”

Well, far be it for him to ignore a lady’s request. Especially when it would be his fucking pleasure.

The only problem would be choosing which thing to show her first. Because right now, Tom could think of a few dozen things he’d like to do to this woman.

His hand strayed over the curve of her bum, and he decided. Much as he enjoyed the frontal view, he’d been thinking about this, too, and besides, the position he had in mind would afford him access to some of her most sensitive bits.

He smacked her on the arse. “Get up,” he instructed. He stood, shucking his trousers so he was as naked as she was. He circled the bed, considering the practicalities. He was so much taller than Gwen, but he thought he could make this work…

He positioned her on her knees on the edge of the bed, then bent her forward so she was on all fours. He groaned at the sight of her ripe arse smiling up at him. He opened her knees just slightly, so she was at the perfect height for him. He could see just a glimpse of her pussy, all pink and swollen and shiny with her juices, and his cock gave a gratified pulse, knowing he was the one who’d made her that way.

He was about to move into position himself when he spotted a cheval mirror across the room. He crossed the room and picked it up, placing it in front of Gwen. She had this idea that she was too plump, as he recalled.

Well, let her see how he was looking at her while he took her. Let’s see how long that nonsense held up.

Returning to stand behind her, Tom groaned. “Ripe as a fucking peach,” he said, caressing the soft globes of her backside.

Her expression held a trace of nervousness, but she didn’t protest as he aligned himself with her opening and started to slide in. “Let me know if I need to slow down,” he said as he started to press forward. “ Fuck .” His eyes crossed, and his mind scrambled as he slid inside her. She was so soft and slick and tight . “I’d forgotten. Just what an amazing cunt you have.”

He caught her eye in the mirror. She didn’t look nervous anymore, but nor did she have the look of pure bliss she’d been sporting earlier.

Well, he could fix that.

He brought his hand to the juncture of her thighs and began rubbing her just where she needed it. “All right if I move?” he choked out.

“Y-yes,” she panted, suddenly looking none too in control herself.

He began to thrust, rubbing her rosebud the whole while. He managed to go slowly at first, but it was hard to maintain any semblance of control. Gwen was like a fucking goddess , her arse so plump and tempting, and she felt like heaven wrapped around his cock.

He glanced up drunkenly, wondering if he was pounding her too hard, only to see an expression of pure bliss on her face.

She caught his eye in the mirror. “It feels even better,” she gasped. “When you’re inside me!”

His brain was a bit scrambled, but he managed to parse that. “ Even better, you say?”

“Mmm-hmm.” Her cheeks flushed, but he could tell he was making her feel too good for her to be too embarrassed about what she’d just revealed.

“Why, Gwendolyn, you naughty thing! You’ve been diddling yourself, haven’t you?”

She sighed, her expression one of pure bliss. “I have. I had this… dream…”

She trailed off, her cheeks pinkening. Tom wasn’t about to let her stop there. “What was this dream about?”

She looked a little bashful as she met his gaze in the mirror, but mostly her expression was one of pleasure. “It was about you, of course. I woke up, and…”

“And?” he prompted, moving faster, her words making him want to come.

“And my hand was already between my thighs.” She flushed even more. “And I knew I shouldn’t, but it felt so good , that I…”

“I’ve a pretty good idea what you did,” he said, his voice dark. He gave her a few hard thrusts. “How often do you do it?”

She squirmed against him. “E-every night.”

He gave her a little pinch on her clit, and she squealed. “And who do you think of when you have your hand between your thighs?”

She closed her eyes, but her smile was dreamy. “You. Always you.”

“Fucking…” He trailed off, struggling not to come right then and there. He managed to wrest control of himself. “You feel better than anything.”

“Do I?” she asked, her voice breathy.

“Best pussy I’ve ever had in my life,” he said honestly. “I’m going to make you come so fucking hard.”

She didn’t seem to object to that plan, because she allowed him to pull her up so she was kneeling upright. Her eyes went wide as she saw the picture the two of them made in the mirror.

Tom kept his right hand working between her legs, but he brought his left hand up to cup one of her bouncing breasts. “God, these tits. Make me hard as a fucking stone. I’ve been dreaming about them for the last six months, and all I had for relief was my own hand. Do you see what you’re doing to me, Gwen? Do you see how you’re driving me out of my fucking mind ?”

“Tom!” she gasped. “Oh, please, Tom, I need to come!”

He put two fingers on her clit, shaking his wrist. “You’re going to come, all right. I want to feel it. I want to feel you throbbing around my cock.”

Her head was thrashing back and forth. “Tom!” she cried. “I… You’re going to make me…”

She cried out then, and her body was wracked with spasms as she came apart in his arms. Tom stopped trying to resist and let her throbbing pussy pull him along, too. He gave a guttural shout as he came inside her. His cock pulsed as his big body shook, his mind going blank with pleasure.

When he was again aware of anything, he found that Gwen had collapsed in front of him, arse in the air. She slid off his softening cock with a slurping sound. Catching his eye in the mirror, she giggled.

He laughed too, climbing on the bed and curling his body around hers. She felt soft and warm and perfect in his arms. “Christ, that was good.”

“It really was, wasn’t it?” she asked sleepily.

“Here,” he said, peeling back one corner of the counterpane, figuring she would want to go to sleep.

She turned to face him, staying him with a hand to his chest. “Wait, Tom. You said there were things you wanted to show me, as in, more than one. Is there any chance we could, um…” She ducked her head as she trailed off.

He placed a finger beneath her chin, forcing her to look at him. Her face at first was tight with trepidation, but he saw a tentative hope flare in her eyes as she took in his expression.

He brushed a kiss across her lips. “We can stay up all damn night if you like.”

Squealing with delight, she looped her arms around his neck and brought her lips to his, and there was no need for further conversation for quite a while.