Chapter Eighteen

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

H e was so hard he truly thought he might burst, but it did not matter. Not when Phoebe was laid out like a feast before him. Not when she had her head buried against his chest, her nightgown around her hips and her hand stroking her quim so that she could bring about the pleasure he had been denying her. It was the most sensuous thing he had ever seen, and given that he was no young lad quick to spend at the first delectable sight, all he knew was that he wanted to make the moment last for as long as possible.

Taking his free hand, Harrison stroked the swell of Phoebe’s breast as he looked at her. Her cheeks were flushed, her breaths rapid as she looked back at him, her teeth worrying her bottom lip.

“I’m close,” she said, shaking her head. “Harrison…”

“Not yet, Phoebe. Wait for me,” he said, taking her hand and licking the fingers that had been swirling in her heat. “Stay right here, no moving, and no touching.”

She jerked her head in agreement and Harrison slipped off the bed and removed his linen pants that he had changed into for bed. Phoebe’s eyes froze on the space where his sex jutted out and she swallowed, her eyes pinned to him. In any other circumstance, he would bask in her admiration, stand like David and let her feast her eyes upon every inch of him, but in this moment, all he wanted to do was lose himself in his wife.

Walking back toward the bed, Harrison grabbed his sex and cupped the tip, stroking the length with the moisture he had found there. “All right?” he asked.

She nodded her head, her gray gaze taking him in from top to bottom, and Harrison stroked himself again as his eyes locked onto hers. She swallowed, then lowered her eyes to where his hand rubbed against his cock, her rapid breaths returning. Her hand began to move, lowering itself to her quim and Harrison stopped and stepped forward, taking the hand and placing a kiss on it before sliding back into the bed beside her. “You promised, love.”

She shook her head. “I can’t. I want…”

“I know,” he said, bringing her into the cradle of his body, his cock sandwiched between her arse cheeks. Taking his thumb, Harrison pushed his penis down to the notch between her thighs, the warm heat and damp moisture of her cunny so intoxicating he nearly spent himself then. Sliding one hand down her thigh, he brought her top leg over his hip, opening her to him while his cock sat contentedly between the swollen outer lips of her sex. “Like this,” he said.

“How?” she asked.

“Just like you want, love. Touch yourself exactly like you want.” Dropping a kiss to her shoulder, Harrison propped himself up so he could see. “Let me watch you play.”

His words lit the fuse and her hand fell to her quim with speed. Gripping the thigh that rode his hip, Harrison watched as Phoebe touched herself, her fingers dipping and sliding against her sex in a familiar rhythm. It was erotic, it was exquisite. It was heaven on earth watching his wife play with herself while his cock was nestled between the panting lips of her sex, feeling every squeeze and sigh as she touched her quim.

It was too much, this erotic picture before him, and Harrison shifted his hips, his cock sliding back and forth against the outer lips of her sex, the friction and heat against his cock intoxicating as he watched Phoebe. His hips picked up speed and Harrison gritted his teeth against the pull of his own climax, but his wife’s warm quim and his exquisite view did little to help, each one set upon making him spill his speed. A growl left his throat and Harrison leaned forward, his mouth falling to Phoebe’s shoulder. Biting softly, Harrison began to suck and kiss the skin he had captured as his hips pistoled back and forth erratically, gaining speed as his climax coaxed him to surrender.

And Phoebe, with her luscious thigh wrapped over his hip, needed little enticing to join him, his unplanned bite spurring her own pleasure to throw her off its edge. Head back, Phoebe’s breathing became ragged as she shook beside him, the lips of her sex quaking around his hard cock, urging him to join her in heaven. Seed spilled from him in spurts as he held onto her thigh, grinding his cock against her quim, ensuring that every last ounce of delight was given to them both. And when they settled back on earth, Harrison kissed the spot he had assaulted, letting his tongue soothe the tender skin.

Rubbing the thigh that still rode his hip, Harrison chuckled against Phoebe’s shoulder. “We’re making quite the mess, aren’t we?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

Phoebe smiled, rolling her head back to look at him. “It’s a good thing we have two beds.”

He made a noise of agreement. “We’ll muddle that one up in a bit. Just give me a moment to collect my sanity.”

“You seem to be conversing just fine.”

“Yes,” he said, lowering her leg before stroking her hair, “but my bones feel like mush as does my brain.” She laughed, the sound soft. “How are you, love?”

“The mush comment sounds right.” With a groan, Phoebe stretched beside him, her marvelous backside rubbing against his length. The confounded instrument perked up at the brush and Harrison groaned, his head falling onto her shoulder.

“Heaven help us,” he said against her nightgown.

“We’ll both be unresponsive if we keep us this pace,” Phoebe said.

“Have no fear, love.” Kissing her shoulder, Harrison pushed up to sitting. “It’ll pass.”

Cleaning himself with a cloth from the wash stand, Harrison rinsed the towel, then returned to Phoebe and performed the same actions to her person, mopping up the remnants of his pleasure that coated her thighs.

Picking Phoebe up off the soiled linens, Harrison strode to the door that connected their rooms and opened it. A discontented yowl from Mildred had him looking down in surprise. “Sorry, pet. I didn’t know you were trapped in here,” he said, depositing Phoebe on her own bed. Kissing his wife on her forehead, Harrison stood. “Where are your clean nightgowns?” he asked.

Phoebe looked at him quizzically but pointed to the dressing room. After retrieving a clean gown for Phoebe and a fresh pair of linen pants for himself, Harrison returned to the room and helped Phoebe change. Ensconced in their clean clothes, Harrison pulled aside the covers and joined Phoebe in the bed. Mildred, who seemed to be one to hold grudges, commandeered a spot at the foot of the bed, presenting them with her back in a sign of disgruntlement.

“I forgot she was in here,” Phoebe said with a whisper, wrapping herself around Harrison’s torso and resting her head on his shoulder.

“Why are you whispering?” Harrison asked.

“Because,” she said, “if she finds out that I forgot about her she’ll no doubt hate me for the rest of her life. I’m a terrible cat parent.”

Harrison chuckled and kissed the top of Phoebe’s head. “You are no such thing. She had no need to be involved in the business that was going on in there, and if I were her, I’d be grateful for the innocence that was spared.”

Phoebe rubbed her nose against his chest, a smile at her lips. “I didn’t think of that.”

“She’ll forgive us for the slight soon enough, but just to be safe, we’ll give her an extra helping of cod with her breakfast.”

“You’re spoiling her,” Phoebe said, her hand reaching up to brush the strand of hair out of his face.

“I’m allowed to care for my girls in whatever form I’m inclined to, thank you very much. If that means extra fish for breakfast,” he leaned down and kissed Phoebe on the nose, “or several climaxes, I will do so.”

“Is that all I get?”

He frowned at her. “Of course not.” Rolling onto his side, he shifted Phoebe so that she lay facing him. “What would you like, love? More bees? Another kitten friend for Mildred?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Don’t be silly.”

“Ask and it’s yours, Phoebe. Whatever it is.”

“An answer to a question and your promise not to laugh?”

Harrison propped his head up with an arm and looked at her. Crossing his heart, he held his hand up. “I swear it.”

“I thought sex required a man to put his penis inside a woman.”

The sentences was said in a flat and even tone with nary a sign of jesting. It was an honest question, and one she felt comfortable asking him without any shame. Pausing, Harrison assessed his response before saying carefully, “It can be, but there are many ways to have sex. The way we did was to ensure that you do not become pregnant.”

Phoebe’s brow crinkled. “Oh.” She remained silent for a short amount of time before asking, “Is there a way to do it with you inside me that would not get me pregnant?”

Harrison smiled, taking his thumb and rubbing at the divots that had formed in between his wife’s eyebrows. “Yes, but it can take a lot of preparation and I don’t want to make any decisions about that because it is your body and only you have the right to it.”

“Surely you can’t mean to never have penetrative sex with me. Do you even find pleasure in the other options?”

Kissing her forehead, Harrison wrapped his arms around her. “I find pleasure in any and everything we do, love. Just now with your sweet thighs clutching me, drowning me in your heat, was no doubt the closest to heaven I’ll ever be, and if we were only to ever do it that way for the rest of our lives, I’ll die a happy man.”

“Truly?” she asked, leaning back to look at him.

Harrison nodded. “I want to do what you want to do, Phoebe. In whatever regard that is. And I’ll never pressure you for things you don’t want.”

She grew quiet, resting her head on his chest, and Harrison stroked her hair, wondering if she had fallen asleep. After a moment, she shifted, placing a soft kiss on his chest. “I like being your wife,” she said.

The absolute joy that he found at her words made him pause, but Harrison shook his head. Whatever it was, those were worries for another time. He had a sleepy wife in his arms and a grumpy cat whose favor he must win back. All of those things were priority. Closing his eyes, Harrison felt the corners of his mouth pull up into a smile, the words she had said so simple and yet so much.

“I like that you’re my wife,” he said, closing his eyes.

***

A soft brush against his cheek woke Harrison. Opening one eye, he looked around the unfamiliar bedroom before spotting the urchin that had awoken him. Mildred sat on his pillow, one paw raised as if to stroke his cheek again should he decide to go back to sleep. “Good morning, little miss,” he said, snaking his hand out to scratch the white spot on her head. “I see you’ve forgiven me for last night.”

Her responding meow seemed to indicate that all was forgiven as she leaned into his hand, eyes closed in happiness at his attention.

A peek at Phoebe proved that she still slept. Harrison quietly left the bed and headed to his bedroom, the furry miscreant on his tail. Scooping up the little one, Harrison handed her off to a footman with orders to feed her breakfast with an extra helping of fish on the side. When the demanding princess left, Harrison shut the door to his room, completed his ablutions, then returned to Phoebe’s bedroom.

His wife was buried in the covers, only her blonde hair peeking out. Sliding back between the sheets, Harrison scooted closer to her, pulling her body into the cradle of his. Her hands reached for him, gripping his arm and using it as a pillow as she wiggled in next to him, her legs coiling around his like a snake. A smile tugged at Harrison’s mouth and he kissed her head which elicited a soft sigh.

“I need to feed Mildred,” she mumbled, her eyes shut tight in opposition.

“It’s been done,” he said, stroking her hair. “Sleep. Our little tyrant will return after her breakfast.”

“I promised her extra fish.”

Harrison chuckled softly. “I made sure she got her offering for last night’s treatment.”

“Do you think she’ll forgive us?”

Kissing her cheek, Harrison stroked her arm, captivated by his lush wife. “If we play with her, I’m sure all will be well. Our darling girl is rather easy to please.”

She sighed in agreement.

“And what does my darling wife need this morning? More sleep? Some tea and breakfast in bed?” he asked.

Shaking her head, Phoebe pushed up to sitting and looked at him. “We should probably eat in the breakfast room.”

“And after? What are your plans?”

“Tend to the bees and journal my observations.”

Harrison smiled. “Is it too late to see about adding in an outing with your husband?”

Phoebe paused, and for a moment he wondered if he had made a mistake. Slowly, she looked up at him and said, “I think I might be up for a schedule adjustment. What did you have in mind?”

“We could go to the bookstore and browse the shelves. Then to Gunter’s for ice?” Scooting closer to her, Harrison tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Or we could wander the park? I’m available however you would like,” he said. Kissing her cheek, he whispered, “So, Phoebe, how would you like me?”

Her breath grew heavy. “The-the bookstore sounds lovely,” she said, meeting his gaze.

“And then ices?” he asked, smiling at her.

Nodding she returned his look. “And then ices.” She smiled, pushing back the covers. “Best get my day started then. We wouldn’t want the staff gossiping.”

Harrison wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her into his lap. “Let them gossip that we lazed about in bed all morning. Let them tell all of London that Lord Everly is fond of his wife.”

“You are?” she asked her head resting on his shoulder.

“Very much so.”

Raising her head to look at him, Phoebe smiled, a gorgeous blush covering her cheeks. “Me too.”