Page 31 of Mistletoe Minx

As a generous conqueror, he gently bit and scraped her nipples with his teeth until they turned a hedonistic shade of carmine. Then he kissed his way down her belly, reveling in the softness that would grow taut and round as it nourished the babies to come. But really, his mouth only had one destination: her slick, fragrant cunt.

Dalton parted her blond bush with his thumbs. “Watch me,” he said thickly. “Watch me feast on your perfect pussy.”

At the first lap to her swollen clitoris, Frances’ body rocked on the bed. But when he dragged his tongue along the satiny petals of her labia and plunged it deeply into her dripping wet heat, she threw back her head and orgasmed with a wild cry.

It wasn’t nearly enough.

Greedy for more honey in his mouth, Dalton shallowly penetrated her cunt with his fingers until he found the slightly rough spot that made his wife buck. Watching her expressive face the entire time, he fastened his lips around her clitoris and sucked ruthlessly as he rubbed, thoroughly enjoying her untamed, helpless surrender. In mere moments Frances came again, soaking his mouth and chin in wetness as the sounds of her pleasure echoed in the bedchamber.

Frances trembled, her bound wrists fluttering helplessly. “Oh God…”

Dalton licked his lips then sat back. “I’ll blindfold you now, sweetheart. While you won’t be able to see, you may speak. It’s essential you tell me how you feel; if it is good or bearable or too much. Do you promise?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “Fill me. Please.”

After covering her eyes and tying the heavy black satin around her head, Dalton paused. “First comes the ginger stick. It takes a little time to warm. Remember, the second third is fatter so will be more uncomfortable.”

To begin, he smeared her copious wetness in and around her anus to ease the way. Then he took the ginger and pressed it in to the first ridge. Frances whimpered as her tight hole briefly resisted the intrusion, but was soon rocking again, her toes dancing. “It’s like being heated from the inside. Make it hotter, Dalton. Make me burn.”

“Very well, sweetheart,” he replied, forcing the ginger inward to the second ridge.

A guttural wail tore from her throat and her head thrashed on the pillow. As a distraction, Dalton picked up a piece of melting ice with the small tongs and slid it back and forth across her nipples. His wife arched with a frantic cry.

“More,” Frances pleaded. “Fire and ice, I can’t even think. It’s so good…”

For the next quarter hour he tenderly tormented his minx; nudging the ginger to make her anus clench around it, and trailing ice pieces along her breasts and belly and inner thighs until she writhed and shamelessly begged for his cock. A wish he would grant—her sweet submission had hardened his shaft to stone. He needed to be inside Frances, to feel her cunt spasm around him as he filled her with seed.

Once he’d carefully extracted the ginger and set aside the ice tongs, he briefly caressed Frances’ face. “I’m going to fuck you now, minx.”

“Hurry,” said Frances unsteadily, her forehead dotted with perspiration and her cheeks flushed pink, her eyes glowing like sapphires. “I need it. Give me a baby, Dalton. Today.”

Dalton tore off his jacket and linen shirt, then took his engorged cock in hand and eased it into her tight, slick heat. But even as he began to move, withdrawing and thrusting impossibly deep into her greedy pussy, it was damned bloody obvious he wouldn’t last long. Frances might be bound and blindfolded, but she was deliberately squeezing his invading length with her inner walls, demanding his release.

Needing to see her eyes as she orgasmed with his cock inside her, he reached up and removed her blindfold. “Wicked woman,” he growled, fucking her harder as she writhed and chanted his name. “You want it, don’t you? Every drop. Take it. Take it now…”

Frances screamed in ecstasy, her feet and fingers almost gouging holes in his sides, her pussy gripping his cock so intensely that Dalton nearly passed out as his seed poured into her with endless, violent spurts.

Utterly boneless and content beyond measure, he collapsed atop his wife, unable to do more than nuzzle her neck. “My minx,” he whispered. “Mine. Now and forever.”

She turned her head, her eyes shining. Sated and joyful. “I love you. This is…heaven.”

Indeed it was.

Heaven ever after.

EPILOGUE

Dashford Park, Surrey, August 1820

London had its excitements, but there was something truly magical about sitting in the sunshine and inhaling fresh country air next to a stream so clear you could see every rock and darting fish. Especially when such adventures included one’s handsome, dashing husband and three adorable children. Well, mostly adorable. Five-year-old Joel Tansley, Earl of Keswick and known as Kessy, was adorable when he wasn’t leaving tin soldiers in doorway battlefields for others to trip over. His younger brother, three-year-old Lord Beau Tansley, was adorable when he wasn’t decorating the furniture with sticky marzipan or muddy handprints. And the newest member of their family, two-month-old Lady Charlotte Tansley, was adorable when not casting up her accounts down the front of her mama’s dressing gown.

But today…today was perfect.

Frances moved her parasol aside and allowed some warmth onto her face. A few freckles on her nose was a small price to pay for such bliss. Not even the house party that had transformed her and Dalton’s marriage from cool duty arrangement to passionate love match could compare to the past five years, for her husband now had another extremely attractive character trait. Of course he remained a skilled master who pleasured her ruthlessly and a tender lover who held her close in bed and massaged her neck when it ached. However, he’d added attentive father; one who played with his sons and read them stories, but was also his daughter’s favorite shoulder to nap on.

For a man who had never known parental affection and had been so uncertain about his potential as a loving father, Dalton was a remarkably fast learner. Never again would a future Duke of Dashford grow up in a household that placed cold superiority, harsh judgement and transactional duty above all else.

“Frances! Look at Kessy’s fish! Big enough to feed the entire village,” called Dalton from where he stood perched on a large flat rock beside his heir.