Page 101 of A Much Maligned Miss

He groaned softly. “It’s not.”

“So then…?”

Instead of answering, he increased the pressure on the back of her neck, and she slowly lowered her face to his hard cock, her eyes on his face until the last minute. He would not actually do it, he told himself. There was not the smallest danger he would permit such a— Ah!

His hips bucked as Caroline licked him lingeringly from base to tip and then back down again. “Is that nice?” she murmured, and a cold sweat broke out on his brow. There was no way he was going to be able to withstand such treatment.

“Yes,” he ground out.

“Yes?” She sounded gratified. “What about this?” She rested a hand against his thigh to anchor her while her tongue gently traced a pattern over his balls. A figure eight this time, though it might as well have been her initials. He felt branded. Owned. And what’s more, he liked the feeling.

The trouble was, he wanted the official seal to confirm this status. What the hell would it take at this point? He ran his fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck, concentrating on the feel of her silky, dark hair against his fingertips to ground him against the sensation of her mouthing his shaft as she made her way back up his cock.

She was more confident this time, less cautious. When she reached the tip she hesitated, breathing hard. Was she…? Gervaise held his breath and bit back a groan. But no, of course she wasn’t going to. He opened his mouth to tell her he had changed his mind, when she leaned suddenly forward engulfing his cockhead in her warm, wet mouth.

Gervaise’s eyes flew open wide, and he made a startled noise in his throat. He dared not move in case she spat him out. He was poised on a knife edge. Realizing he had twisted his fist in her hair, he struggled to relax his fingers. “Fuck, sorry.”

She made a querying sound around his cock that had it jumping and lodging further in her pretty mouth. “Fuck, Caroline,” he wheezed. Fuck. It felt too good. His vision flickered. He was going to come. He desperately wanted to, and yet to maintain this blissful, tortuous moment a while longer.

Her mouth felt incredible. Did she hate it? He ran his hand comfortingly over the back of her neck and shoulders and tried to relax, to make it last. He would not ask her suck him, however much he was tempted. Instead, he would savor this for what it was. Sensible Caroline Halperston with her pretty governess charm had taken his cock in her mouth and— Fuck!

He grunted in surprise as he felt her questing tongue flicker along the underside of his cock. Gervaise’s nostrils flared. She didn’t want to comfort him, he realized, with her warm, wet mouth. She wanted to make him come.

His hand tightened on the headboard so hard he was surprised it did not splinter. Fuck, she was going to succeed too. “Caroline,” he ground out, and barely recognized his own voice, fighting the urge to buck into her mouth, fighting the impulse to just let go and blessedly release, when she suddenly got the devilish impulse to suck him.

“Unnnnghhhh! Holy fuck!” He came with a yell and a series of groans which were so loud they could likely raise the dead, let alone the fellow inhabitants of the attics. He grunted and spurted like a brute, noisy and uncouth, with little regard for manners or discretion. All the while he kept his hand clamped to her nape as his hips thrust up, indecently vocalizing his pleasure.

He could not even bring himself to regret it as he slumped against the headboard, gasping for breath. Well, Effie and Viola (or whatever the hell her name was) would no longer wonder what he saw in Caroline, he thought, blinking down at the back of her head.

She had made him come so hard they likely had their pillows over their heads, cursing his loudness. He was frankly surprised Caroline was not coughing and choking on his softening dick right now. He forced himself to release her, and she sat up, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth, her eyes bright and her face pink.

“Well?” she asked eagerly.

“Well, what?” he croaked.

“How was it?”

“Do you really have to ask?” His eyes fixed on her shiny lips. “Fuck, Caroline, did you just swallow?”

“Oh, was I not supposed to? I wasn’t really sure what else to do, and you took me by surprise, so I—”

He jerked her into his arms and put a stop to her words with his mouth. She melted against him and he held her close, smoothing her hair down her back. When their mutual breathing had evened out, he dragged the covers up and over them, rearranging the pillows. “Comfortable?” he asked as they settled against each other.

“Mmm, yes.”

“Good.” Then because he could not help himself, he asked. “What are you thinking about?”

“That thing you once said to me,” she said in a low voice. “That one time in the mail coach.” She reached across, taking his hand in hers. “At the time, I scarcely knew if I could believe you, but now I know you were in deadly earnest.” She looked so sweetly serious that Gervaise felt his heart thud in his chest. What thing? When he had asked her to marry him?

“When you said you were my true friend,” she elaborated, and Gervaise tasted the bitterest kind of disappointment. No, he had never asked her to marry him on their coach journey, fool that he was. He cursed himself silently. If he had done, he might not be stuck now in this predicament where his feelings were far more engaged than hers.

She kissed his knuckles and settled her head against his shoulder. The door squeaked and he heard the patter of paws, and the cats were leaping onto the bed. Tomorrow, he would have to start convincing her of the necessity of marriage. He would bring up the special license, he thought, and the smart townhouses that had just been built in Avenue Road. There must be some way of convincing her. He just hadn’t hit on it yet.

41

Knowing she had only to please herself the next day, Gervaise let Caroline sleep in. He crept downstairs to let the cats out and partake in his first cigarette of the day. Annoyingly, it was already busy in the scullery when he let himself back in. Three women were sat in front of the fire with toasting forks, and another was washing up and chirping away cheerfully to Reg, who was tugging at his neckcloth and looking bashful.

When Gervaise entered the room, they turned to look at him. “Good morning, all,” he said by way of polite greeting. Someone gave a low whistle and Romulus bristled as Remus fled through the room, disappearing into the hall.