Page 44 of A Contracted Spouse for the Prizefighter

Clem grinned, he could not help himself. “Whatever you want.”

She shot him another mystified look, then shrugged. “Very well, if that’s something you—”

Having gained her permission, Clem pressed forward and took her mouth thoroughly. Dora was passive for a moment or so, no doubt considering her options. Then he felt it, the tip of her tongue touch tentatively to his. Clem could not swallow his groan, which clearly startled her. He drew back. “That’s it, love, give me more,” he murmured, before settling more comfortably over her and sealing his lips to hers once again.

Encouraged, Dora tangled her tongue with his with an increasing boldness that had Clem’s pulse pounding. Not only that, but when her free hand suddenly skimmed his shoulder and clasped him firmly at the back of his neck Clem had to concentrate not to lose it.

Instead, he pressed gently against her fingers which had gone slack between her legs. When Dora gave a little gasp, he knew he had found the right spot, and with a little gentle urging, she resumed her efforts there. Carefully Clem slid two of his fingers on either side of her own and rubbed her wet folds.

Dora whimpered into his mouth and the sound had his nostrils flaring. Tearing his mouth from hers, he panted, “Give me your tongue now, Dora.” Then he sought her lips again before she could make a reply. He was loud, too loud, when Dora’s tongue ventured into his mouth but, holy hell, it was good.

He didn’t hold back, kissing her the way he liked it, deep and wet, sucking her tongue and then plunging his own into her mouth in the expectation of her doing the same. She did not disappoint him. Hell, he was starting to wonder if she ever would. He shouldn’t be this aroused, just from a good kiss and a little fingering, but he was hard as rock.

Between her legs, her wetness coated his fingers, making him groan again, her hand squeezed the back of his neck, and fuck knew why, but he bloody loved it. Her tongue stroked over his, and he felt like he was on fucking fire for her.

Too soon, she was drawing back, with a shaky, “Oh Clem!” She pressed her face to the side of his neck and made an explosive noise, half cry, half moan. She was there. And more to the point, so was he. In fact, if he wasn’t careful, he was going to … Clem wrenched back with a panicked, “Dora!” and reached for his crotch.

“Are you about to spill?” Dora asked with breathless interest.

Her words were the final straw. Clem groaned and grabbed the washcloth which was mercifully within reach. “Fuck…” he groaned and thoroughly disgraced himself. That had been a close-run thing and he only had one pair of trousers with him.

TWELVE

After a quick wash, a slightly shaken Clem made his way downstairs to order their dinner to be delivered to their room. He smoked a cigar en route and tried to pull himself together as he descended the staircase. That … had not gone the way he had expected. Not at all. In his mind’s eye, he recalled a deliciously disheveled Dora propped up on her elbows watching him cum his brains out into a washrag. Jesus, the expression on her face.

She was so … Clem didn’t know the word for it. Before tonight he might have used words like naïve or clueless, but now, he was starting to think she was something else. Forthright? Was that the right word? Fearless? They seemed the wrong words to use for a twenty-six-year-old spinster, especially one as … not dotty preciselybut definitely eccentric as Dora, but they were the closest he could come up with on the spot.

To be honest, he didn’t think of her as remotely dotty anymore. She might sometimes wear odd gloves and her views on dress were outlandish, to say the least, but you couldn’t think of anyone as a budding maiden aunt when they were so… well, frank, in the bedroom.

Something else had become apparent as well. Something he had suspected but could no longer ignore. She trusted him, implicitly. He had, of course, encouraged this trust over the past month and a half, but he had not realized at the time that there would be implications for him involved.

He felt uneasy being the recipient of such unquestioning trust. Something a ruthless bastard like himself had no right to feel. More than that, he felt sort of underhanded and furtive, a thing that had never bothered him in business before. In truth, he was faintly surprised it was bothering him now. He had known from the outset what he was doing was unscrupulous, but he had not cared. Now … he felt a nagging sense of discomfort.

He slowed almost to a stop, hand on the banister, gazing into the gilt-edged mirror hanging on the wall opposite him. Could it be the marriage part that made the difference? Why should it, though? He had entered into sexual arrangements in a simple, no-strings fashion many times before. No, it must be Dora herself that was causing him this disquiet.

He took a deep breath and faced facts squarely. It wasn’t like him to flinch from hard truths, but here he was. Deep down he knew what the problem was. Despite her delightful openness, Dora was naïve, and he had taken on this role of husband and protector, in spite of the fact he was the one about to shatter her entire world.

Fuck. That was it. He met his eyes in the mirror. He was going to be a lousy husband and Dora had not the first notion of the fact. She thought he was her co-conspirator, her confidant, her friend. In truth, he was none of those things. It gave him an oddly conflicted feeling as it both flattered and chilled him that she was now being so open with him. Telling him her secrets and trusting the wolf at her door.

There was no getting around it. He was going to have to keep a husbandly eye on her, he concluded with stirring unease. He, a shameless fucker most of the time, felt fucking guilty about misleading Dora. But not guilty enough to deny himself her sweet little pussy, he realized, starting back down the final flight of stairs. He was having Dora alright, just as soon as he could get his hands on some form of preventative. As for the rest of tonight, he was going to enjoy her every way he could think of that did not involve penetration.

He would just have to carry on being good to her until the truth came out and then he would have to hope Dora would take it on the chin. It wasn’t even such a crazy notion when it came to Dora, he thought, a faint smile touching his lips. She took everything else like a champ, he reflected, including his cock. Just the thought of how she had handled him made his breath quicken.

Automatically, he stood aside for two women slowly ascending the stairs in their wide crinoline skirts. They smiled coyly at Clem, and he gave them a cursory nod. Dora was right, he thought absently. If they slipped on a step they’d likely roll down to the bottom before they could turn themselves right side up.

When he reached the front desk, he requested clean water and towels and ordered a bottle of champagne to be delivered to their room. That was what they should have been drinking earlier, he thought, and could have kicked himself for being so damned thoughtless. Even though he knew Dora would never expect such attention, bless her.

He had a couple of stiff drinks in the bar to fortify himself for the patience he was going to have to exert over the next couple of hours when Dora inevitably turned shy. It only occurred to him when he reached their hotel room and quietly let himself in, that he had waited too long.

Dora was stretched out on the bed in her virginal nightgown in peaceful slumber, a seraphic expression of contentment on her face. It was only after gazing down at her for a few seconds that Clem realized he did not have the heart to wake her. She’d had a long day and been such a sweetheart.

Instead, he drew the covers up to her neck and answered the door when the clean towels and water arrived. Later, he wondered if that might not have been the point at which he realized something was amiss, but at the time he just congratulated himself on doing a damn good impression of a considerate husband. Even if he did say so himself.

THIRTEEN

Theo woke with a fuzzy head and a vague sense of anxiety. Something wasn’t quite right, was the thought penetrating the fog that was her sluggish mind. What was it? she wondered, then realized her pillow felt decidedly un-pillow-like in texture. She bounced her cheek against it. No, it definitely wasn’t her pillow. It was … She raised her head. Clem Dabney.

The upper half of her body was sprawled across Clem’s, and what’s more, he was only wearing his long underwear. His massive chest was entirely naked, and she had been draped over it like a human blanket. Theo blinked and set out a cautious hand to grope around for the bedsheet in a somewhat futile attempt to dredge up a modicum of modesty.