ROMANCE: Regency Romance: Fated to His Kiss (Historical Victorian Romance) (Historical Regency Romance Fantasy Short Stories) by Eva Madden Page B

fingers. She enjoyed the feel of it, and used it to spread moisture all around the head of his cock, which seemed to drive Henry quite wild. With her fingers dancing in a kind of massage, she continued to touch him there, amazed at how his breath seemed to escalate and change from a steady cadence to a chaotic one. Amazed still at how suddenly he wrested the sheet she held to her chest to free one plump, pink-tipped breast while murmuring for her to continue on. Doing her best to ignore the feeling of him playing with her there, stringing her own desire tight as a drum as she played with him, making a ring with her hand once, then stroking him, cock to balls, over and over until his breath hinged on a catch and a hot, creamy liquid came shooting out from him and onto her, wetting her hands, stomach, and breast with an incredibly large amount of Henry's juices.
                  “Oh!” she cried, astonished at the amount that came from him and how positively wicked it made her feel to be marked thus. “Oh, well, that was quite a lot!”
                  Still shuddering with the effects of his release, Henry opened an eye and laughed a shaky laugh. “Pineapples, my dear. And celery.”
                  Smiling in the kitchen over the talk they had after that, about foods and aphrodisiacs and all of that nonsense, Anabelle closed her eyes and leaned dreamily against one the butcher block in the kitchen. How happy he looked, her husband, leaning against her, speaking of proper diets and joking with her lightly. She understood now the meaning of post-coital bliss, and wondered if all wives in good marriages had husbands who were quite pleased to lean against their naked chests and speak of the medicinal benefits of certain fruits for production of certain love juices, all the while their eyes gleaming with a positively wicked spark—
                  She yelped aloud as a firm male hand closed around her hip and drew her towards him.
                  “What are you dreaming about so hard, my darling?” Henry purred into her ear.
                  “N-nothing,” she gasped as she felt her rear end bump against a rising hardness in between her husband's legs behind her. He pressed her hard against him for a moment, then turned her deftly around so that her back was against the table, the menu forgotten for the moment.
                  “Did not look like anything to me, dear,” he told her, and leaned in for a tantalizing kiss that scrambled Anabelle's senses utterly. Lost in a haze of desire at the softness on her lips, she was lost to the world, and thus doubly shocked when she realized that somebody was not only present in the room with them, but also clearing their throat for their attention.
                  Anabelle gave a start, but Henry only looked up lazily, slightly irritated at the interruption that Manley, their butler, had provided. Manley, given his due, was standing stoically at the entrance of the kitchen, pretending that he had not seen anything improper. In fact, Anabelle could have sworn that she saw a cheerful glint in his eye at seeing his master and mistress so wrapped up in each other.
                  “Yes, Manley?” Henry asked.
                  “Your Grace, I apologize for troubling you, but Lord Sunders is in the drawing room and is insistent upon seeing you.”
                  “What the devil is Rafe doing here?” Henry wondered aloud, releasing Anabelle with some regret. “I will rejoin you in a few moments, my dear. No doubt Rafe wants me to help him settle some gambling debt or another.”
                  “Please, sir.” Manley looked positively pained. “He insists that your wife be present, as well.”
                  Anabelle and Henry eyed each other speculatively. What on Earth could be so important that she had to be present?