Chapter Twenty-Two

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

D inner went quickly, mostly due to the fact that Harrison sat in his chair, his brown eyes gleaming as he watched her attempt to eat the food before her. Phee squirmed in her chair, excitement and want urging her to throw her fork aside and follow Harrison wherever he longed to go. But he had said to eat, and surely she would need sustenance for whatever delight he was conjuring in his mind as he watched her.

“I’m done,” she said, setting her fork aside.

He raised a brow. “You’re certain?”

Phee nodded, placing her napkin on the table. “Are we to play Snap tonight?”

Harrison chuckled before standing and holding out his hand to her. “Yes and no,” he said. “We’ll play our normal hand, but instead of sharing a secret,” he smiled at her, his gaze flicking from one part of her body to another, “we’ll remove a piece of clothing. Does that sound all right with you?”

Phee nodded a smile tugging at her lips. Taking his hand, his strong fingers sliding against hers sending a tingling down her arm, she followed him. Mildred hopped up from the chair she occupied and followed them out of the dining room and up the stairs to the bedrooms.

Harrison stopped in front of Phee’s door, his hand raising to tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear as he leaned forward, his breath warm against her skin. “Tuck Mildred in, then meet me in my room,” he said, the words a whisper. “And send Flora away. I’ll be your lady’s maid for the night.”

Kissing her softly on the neck, Harrison opened the door to her bedroom, guided her and Mildred inside, then shut the door behind them. Phee stood in the stillness of her room, uncertain what to do next, but Mildred’s soft meow brought her back to reality. Adjusting the fluffy blanket that resided on the end of the bed, Phee lifted Mildred onto it, watching as the kitten fluffed and fixed the linen to her liking before collapsing on the soft mound, her small paws kneading the cloth as she nursed on the fabric. Phee stood and watched her small amber eyes slowly closing as she soothed herself to sleep.

With soft steps and a large breath, Phee opened the door that connected their bedroom and went inside. Candles lit every surface, their glow brightening the room to an almost stage like quality. The two chairs that normally bracketed the fireplace were pushed to one side, the coverlet of the bed covering the floor before the roaring fire. In its center, a deck sat, unambiguous and ominous all the same.

“That was fast,” Harrison said, rising from one of the chairs.

Phee nodded, her eyes feasting on the man before her who wore only his linen shirt and the tan trousers that he wore to dinner, and nothing more. His bare feet sunk into the plush rug on the floor. “She loves the blanket you brought her, so I’m sure that helped.”

Harrison held out his hand to her. “Shall we play?”

The words were simple, childlike, and yet, somehow Phee knew that this game would not be like any of the others they had enjoyed. Taking his hand, she allowed him to lead her to the blanket. He knelt before her, removing first one, then the other slipper that graced her feet. His hands slid up her calves, his fingers dancing along the ties that held her stockings up. With deft movements, he undid both the ribbons, then pulled the fabric to the floor. With her stockings pooled around her feet, Phee stood rooted to the spot, her awareness heightened as his devilish hands slid up the now bare skin, coasting and sliding along the tops of her thighs. Her legs parted, making space for him at the place she desired him most, but he simply chuckled, his hands cascading over her linen drawers and back down to her feet, pulling the stockings from her.

“Soon,” he said, before standing once more. “Turn around, Phoebe.”

Phee presented him with her back and the buttons of her dress loosened as his crafty fingers worked their way down her spine. Deft motions slid the dress from her shoulders, down her arms, the fabric catching at her hips. His thumbs slipped into her petticoat and he pushed both pieces to the floor where they collapsed in a puddle of blue and white around her feet. The heat of his mouth danced across her neck as his hands wrapped around her waist, spanning the front of her stays before stopping at the ties that held them together. “We’ll leave this for now,” he said against her neck. “Come with me.”

His hand grabbed hers and he had her sit on one side of the deck of cards before taking the side opposite of her.

“We’re to play like this?” she asked, uncomfortably aware of the heat the pooled at her sex.

“If you’re up for it.”

“Oh,” she said, her eyes falling to the pieces of clothing that covered his body. “I’m not sure that it’s a fair game.”

Harrison smiled at her. “We both have on drawers which would put each of us at an even three items of clothing. A perfectly reasonable number.”

Phee swallowed. “What do you mean?”

Harrison smiled at her, taking the cards from the center of the blanket and shuffling the deck like a professional. “Not too little and not too many. Just the right amount to ensure that soon, one of us is going to be naked, and I can’t wait to see which of us it is.” He winked at her, the motion doing something funny to her breathing. “Should I deal?”

Harrison dealt out the cards, one after another flicking back and forth between them, the motion of his fingers simple, smooth, and captivating. Swallowing, Phee looked at the man across from her. The light from the fire lit his golden locks into shiny strands that fell around his face, his brown eyes shining from the dancing flames. One corner of his mouth was raised in a smirk, as if he had already won the game before they had even played it. Perhaps he had. Perhaps she had, too.

Taking up her pile of cards, Phee pushed them into a stack, their weight a reminder that this game would quite possibly be the death of her.

Harrison smiled at her and motioned to her deck. “You draw first.”

Licking her lips, Phee nodded, watching as his eyes fell to her mouth, the feral want that filled his face sending her blood rushing. Taking the first card off the top of her deck, Phee flipped it over, and placed it on the blanket. A two of spades. Looking to Harrison’s pile she spotted a ten of hearts.

“Again,” he said, the word husky. Goosebumps rose on her flesh as she pulled her next card, laying it on top of the one before it. A seven and a queen lay face up, challenging them to pull a match.

“Again.”

Phee wriggled, the spot between her legs aching, already anticipating his touch and they had only just started. With a deep breath, she reached for the next card and flipped it, the kings jovial smile filling her gaze as she placed him down. Her eyes slid to Harrison’s pile where a one sat atop his pile taunting her and she swallowed, uncertain how much longer this could go on before she broke.

“Again,” she said, looking at Harrison, his eyes pinned to her hands where she held the deck. Her breasts tightened at the look, her mind chanting, torn between paying attention to the game and deciding which item of his clothing would go first.

Phee flipped over the five of hearts, setting it down on the pile with a simple motion, then looked to his.

A five sat face up on his side of the blanket.

“Snap,” they said in tandem, and Phee looked at him, her cheeks warming.

“How do you feel about each of us sacrificing an item?” he asked, his eyes pinned on her stays. “For fairness’s sake.”

Phee nodded, coming onto her knees and reaching for the ties, but stopped as his hands covered hers. “Allow me.”

Moving behind her, Harrison’s hands took their time unlacing the strings of her stays. His warm breath danced across her shoulder and she shuddered, tempted to lean against him as he worked. The strings fell against her shift, loosened of their tight embrace, but instead of removing himself back to his side, Harrison’s hands slid down to her still-covered hips, his fingers sinking into the flesh he felt there, while his mouth fell to her shoulder, bestowing a kiss upon the exposed skin.

A soft gasp escaped her lips as his teeth nipped at her shoulder, the sting captivating, but no less more than when his tongue followed over the spot, soothing the tender skin. The cards fell from her hand as she gave into the temptation and finally allowed herself to lean into him, her arm coming up to wrap around his neck as she leaned her head to the side and granted him more room. Her fingers dug into his hair, holding him in place as he waged war on the strip of territory he had found, his hands sliding forward to meet at her stomach before rising, making their way to her breasts. The fabric of her stays fell to the floor while his hands soothed the confined skin, stroking away at the tender places where the whale bone had marred.

“Better?” he asked.

Phee whimpered as his fingers circled her nipples, the points tightening at the attention, determined to make their presence known. “No,” she said, moving against him. “Worse, actually.”

He laughed against her skin, the chuffs of air chilling the spot where his mouth had been. With a final kiss, he pulled back and Phee squeezed her eyes shut, her body mutinous at the notion of playing the game any longer.

“My turn?” she asked, turning back toward him, her tongue gliding over her lips as she raised her hands to the hem of his shirt, her fingers slipping beneath to slide over his skin. Harrison growled as she traced along the edge of his trousers with her pointer finger, the sound animalistic and all together delicious. Pulling the linen up toward his shoulders, Phee leaned forward, kissing his newly exposed chest, a hiss escaping his lips as she traced one nipple with her tongue. After a gentle nibble to the tender spot, Phee pulled the shirt over his head and let it fall to the floor before smiling at Harrison whose breaths had grown ragged, his pupils large as he gazed down at her.

Sitting back down at her spot, Phee’s quim wept with need and she shifted, trying to find any sort of pressure that would ease the ache there. This game they were playing was dangerous.

“Take off your drawers and pull up your chemise,” Harrison said, the smoky request making her lips part as she looked at him.

“What?”

He nodded to her shift. “I see you trying to soothe yourself, love. The least you could do is let me see.”

Phee swallowed. “See what?”

He smirked. “See that delicious spot where you need me.”

The air rushed from her lips at his words, the request so dark, so carnal that part of her wanted to squeeze her legs tighter to ease the ache while another part wanted to follow commands. Pulling in a breath, she met his gaze. “Take off your trousers.”

Harrison smiled. “Done.” In a swift motion, he flicked the front closure of his trousers and stood, pushing the fabric to the floor revealing the outline of his swollen sex. Nodding at her, he licked his lips. “Show me.”

Phee wriggled her hips, lifting the hem of her chemise. Pulling down her drawers and letting the excess fabric of her chemise fall behind her, she leaned back. Widening her knees, she shivered as the spot that ached for his touch met the cool air of the room and the soft scratch of the blanket. Looking at Harrison, she froze, want filling her at the abject need written across his face as he took her in. His brown gaze bore into her, his teeth worrying his bottom lip while his hands gripped his deck of cards tightly, nearly folding them in half.

“Should we continue?” she asked, the words choppy.

He nodded his head, his eyes pinned to her quim. “Draw.”

Phee flipped over her top card, a queen smiling gracefully up at her. Before she could look at Harrison’s pile, his soft exclamation of “snap” filled the room, his body lunging forward toward her as she raised her hands to wrap them around his neck.

Fingers delved in her hair as his lips met hers, his mouth soft even as he bestowed punishing kisses. His tongue swirled and stroked, devouring every inch of expanse it could find while his free hand pulled her chemise up over her breasts before falling to the swollen buds, torturing the pointed tips endlessly. She was engulfed, aflame, drowning in him and the only thing she wanted to do was surround herself in it. In him. In his citrus scent and unyielding grasp until she exploded from the delight of it all.

Her hands traced the expanse of his chest, sliding around to his back and holding on as he consumed her. It was too much. It was not enough.

“I want you, Phoebe” he said with a moan.

“I want you too.”

Harrison pushed away from her and stood. He held out his hand to her, and she took it, his strength pulling her to standing as if she were a feather. Her chemise was whipped over her head in sure motions before he picked her up and carried her to his bed, depositing her in the middle of it.

With cat like moves, he stalked her across the bed, his lips dancing up the outside of her thigh. “So beautiful,” he said as he kissed her skin. “So fucking beautiful.” His lips trailed up her side, his hands stroking every inch of exposed skin they could find.

When his lips reached her ear, he kissed the shell, his teeth tormenting and soothing. “You need to grab the headboard.”

“What?” she asked, the words a gasp.

Laying down beside her, his hand slid between her thighs, the delectable torment forcing her to separate them so he could reach his goal. Instead, he shifted the leg, moving her to straddle his chest, and she placed her hands on his chest to righten herself. He made a tsking noise at her before taking both her hands, kissing their palms, and lifting them to the wooden headboard before her. “Grab the headboard.”

“I don’t understand,” she said as Harrison shifted his body so that his shoulders were between her thighs. Her hands tightened their grasp and she looked down, her cheeks heating at the image of her quim sitting poised before Harrison’s mouth. “Harrison…”

He turned his head to the side, kissing the inside of one thigh before bestowing the same gift on the other. “You are my dessert. I am going to devour you like the sweet morsel you are, and you, my love, are going to enjoy every minute of it. Think of yourself as my own personal chocolate soufflé.”

“I—” she said, shaking her head. “Like this—”

His mouth lifted, his tongue stroking her sex with a divine lick of wet and heat, and Phee choked on her words, her thighs shaking at the contact. Instead of pulling back, of trying to convince her with words, Harrison kissed her quim again, the firm stroke sending a moan of need between her parted lips as all thoughts fled, the chant of pure need pulsing through her brain as his hands gripped her arse and lowered the feast to his waiting mouth.

Sensation reigned as he ate to his content, his greedy tongue devouring every bit of her, coaxing and consoling the swollen nub at the top of her sex before eating her up again. His hands held her firm, one on each globe while his thumbs played in her heat, swirling and baiting the entrance of her cunny with attention, but never enough.

Phee’s thighs shook. Each time her pleasure lured her closer, her brain nagged that she would smother him, kill him with her quim, and her desire fled only to be rekindled again. It was torturous to be pleasured this way, her body buzzing like her bees, with unfulfilled need and a touch of fear. A whimper escaped her lips as she pulled herself up again, her climax so close and yet so far out of reach.

Harrison shifted her, setting her on his chest as his hands cupped her hips. His lips glistened with her desire and he licked them greedily as he looked at her. “What is it?” he asked.

She shook her head, her body pulsing with want. “I’m scared I’ll crush you.”

The smile that overtook his face was beautiful, and were the situation not so utterly preposterous, she would have stopped a moment to take it in. But worry ate at her and desire squirmed through her, and she was not certain if she should scream or cry.

He squeezed her hips. “Phoebe, you will not hurt me,” he said, a smile in his words, “And if I do die, I can’t think of a more pleasurable way to go.”

Phee frowned at him. “This is serious.”

He nodded. “Very. Since we’re being serious, I must say, that I seriously want you to sit on my mouth. To cover my tongue in your honey, to drown me in your thighs as you come. I will have you this way every moment of everyday until it becomes your most favorite spot to sit.”

“Harrison—”

“I want you to ride my mouth like a jockey at the Ascot. I want your thighs to warm my ears in the coldest of winters.”

Phee laughed.

“I want you screaming my name as you take your pleasure from me, and then, Phoebe,” he said, his hands squeezing her hips. “I want to do it again.”

“All right,” she said with a whisper.

“That’s my girl,” he said, nodding to the headboard. “Your saddle awaits, my lady.”

A corner of her mouth rose and she shook her head before shifting again, her quim poised over his mouth., her hands holding onto the ornate headboard of his fourposter bed. “What do I do?” she asked.

He smiled as his hands gripped her arse firmly, pulling her in place. “My darling, you just enjoy.”

He lifted his head, his tongue delving into the place that longed for his touch and her body needed little coaxing, his attention most assuredly missed. His thumbs traced the entrance of her sex, the sensitive skin there aching for his touch while his tongue danced across her nub bewitching and beguiling the pleasure point.

Strong hands pulled her down to him and with very little resistance, she sat, and he dined like a starving man. He wasted not a moment, annihilating her senses while his thumbs carved out an ache so sharp she could feel it in her heart. Her hands clutched at the headboard, nails digging into the wood as she ground herself against him searching for the pleasure only he could provide. And when the peak claimed her, her body quivering as he absorbed every ounce of pleasure inside her, she screamed his name until her strength left her.

Leaning against the headboard, Phee shook her head, a soft giggle escaping her lips as she looked down at her husband who in truth seemed the happiest man alive. Smiling wide, he licked his lips before kissing the inside of her thigh. “I knew you’d like it.”