Page 75 of A Contracted Spouse for the Prizefighter

“Tell me you like it, Dora.”

Theo was too busy at that moment shifting her forearms in an attempt to stabilize herself. Accidentally she dislodged a clothes brush, made a grab for it, but the blessed thing slipped through her fingers and fell to the floor.

“Leave it,” Clem grunted. “Tell me you like it, Dora,” he insisted.

Her breathing caught, then she let out a whimper. “I like it,” she whispered, but clearly that wasn’t enough.

“How much?” he urged. “Tell me.” This clearly threw her for a moment. She jostled against him as she lost their rhythm, and he had to catch hold of her hips to get her back on course. “Don’t stop moving,” he grunted. “Don’t overthink it, just say what comes to mind.”

“A-as much as champagne cocktails,” she uttered breathlessly. “It’s … it’s much nicer, even than the grand saloon in Wards. Oh!”

He was starting to move his hips in earnest now and everything on the dresser was starting to jump and shake. All of Clem’s fancy jewelry boxes containing his cufflinks and flashy tie pins were raining down onto the floor. For some reason, it was making Theo feel quite frantic.

“Clem, oh Clem!” Theo panted, trying to move against him, but by this point, the hard slam of his hips prevented her from doing anything other than take the pounding he was giving her. And really, she was fine with that, though when the dresser started slamming against the wall, she knew a moment’s panic her sister might wonder what on earth was going on. Then she remembered Henrietta was in France and gave herself up to the sensation of being so ruthlessly taken.

She was going to reach it again, she realized in amazement. It was meant to be Clem’s turn for pleasure, but she was going to reap a second reward.

“Dora?” Clem’s voice was harsh. “Are you close?”

“Yes,” she panted. “I’m close, so, so close.”

He lifted her slightly and slid his hand between the dresser and her stomach, working his way down between her legs.

As soon as she felt his fingers slide over her clitoris, she was there. Her vision swam, her arms gave out, and she collapsed forward, inadvertently sending a bunch more things flying as she cried out.

“Unghhhh, Dora!” Clem roared, slumping over her, his breath hot against the back of her neck as he gasped for breath, his chest heaving. Theo lay slumped as she drifted gently down from the clouds. “Holy hell,” Clem murmured, then after a moment, “Did I crush you?”

“No,” Dora murmured, her eyes still closed. He said something else, but Dora was too content to listen. The next thing she knew she was being scooped up and carried over to the bed. She murmured discontentedly at being disturbed, but Clem ignored her, dragging off her drawers and laying her gently down on the bed and running his hands over her hips and pelvis.

“There’s red marks here,” he said regretfully. “Dora,” he said more insistently. “Does it hurt anywhere?”

“Yes,” she said irritably. “My ears!”

She heard him snort, then murmur, “Little wretch.”

Then he disappeared again, and she wasn’t sure how much later she felt him wiping between her legs with a damp cloth. She complained but he took no notice, other than murmuring, “Let me take care of you.” She relapsed into silence, then felt him shake her. “Dora, you should probably take that thing out.”

“What thing?” she grumbled, not even opening her eyes.

“The preventative.”

“You do it,” she said, opening her legs, and was met with nothing but a sharply indrawn breath. She opened her bleary eyes, feeling incredulous. “Do not tell me you are squeamish, Clem Dabney?”

When he did not move, she startled to struggle upright, but his hand on her shoulder prevented her. “If you’re really sure this is acceptable,” he said uncertainly. It was Dora’s turn to snort, and she did so, shutting her eyes again. There was a tug down below and then the cloth was back between her legs.

Hearing him move around the room and water being poured into a bowl she drifted back into a peaceful doze until he climbed onto the bed and curled around her. This was a good deal more acceptable, and Dora relaxed into him as he covered them in bedclothes. She did not wake again for hours and hours and, when she did so, found Clem had left the preventative in a bowl to soak and replaced all the items on the dresser.

NINETEEN

Clem could not settle to a damn thing at the office the next day. His mind kept wandering back to the extraordinary woman he had married. She really whipped the rug out from under his feet the previous night. Well, if he was truthful, it was not just last night and not just in the bedroom either but practically every area of their life together.

It was annoying that her unconventional ways had such an effect on shaking him. He was hardly a model of respectability, far from it, but it was a good thing he was not easily shocked, for he was dimly aware that Theo’s stance on most things went against society’s strictures.

He was starting not to care so much about her graceless style of dress. In fact, there were distinct advantages that her underwear was so unstructured. What lay under her strange gowns more than made up for her peculiar choice of outfit.

As for her hair … Clem pondered this. He was starting to feel quite strange about the nape of her neck. He had never found that part of the female anatomy particularly attractive, but Dora’s was extremely distracting. He had even found himself staring at it as he had her bent over that dresser and was frankly spoiled for choice where it came to places to look.

Christ, that dresser …