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Will you ever read these? Am I only writing in the wind, words carried to a far off place, never to be seen, to be understood by you? A true test of my bravery, I suppose.
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“THERE’S SOMETHING I must show you.” Lily combed delicate fingers through his hair while his head rested alongside her left breast.
“Hmm...” he murmured, relishing the touch of her hand and the sweet taste of her pleasure which lingered on his tongue. He’d never done that before. He’d heard of it. Seen it once. But he’d never cared to perform the intimate act for a woman if she wasn’t Lily. Pride at his successful attempt swelled in his chest, and he palmed another turgid part of his body—the thick erection yearning for freedom. “Can’t it wait? I’m quite enjoying this.”
The taste of her had overwhelmed him to the point where all he wanted was to drown in her essence. To sip from her cup until he became drunk off her sweetness. And once she rested some more, he planned on continuing to quench his thirst, lazing by the lake for however long it took.
Even if my cock turns blue from denial.
Lily was the only one who mattered to him at the moment.
Her previously languid body tensed beneath him before gradually relaxing again. He wondered what could be so important that she’d need to show him right this second, but she acquiesced to his request, and he let the topic drop. “I suppose so. It is rather nice out... We can stop there on our way home.”
“I was referring to enjoying more than the weather, Lily-pad.”
She hummed in amusement. “I know. That was also nice.”
Now, she was toying with him, but he didn’t mind this playful side of her—in fact, he adored it. “Woman, if you think to goad me into proving my extreme prowess at licking your pussy by suggesting the first and second times you came on my tongue were merely nice... Well, consider myself properly provoked.” Owen nuzzled the tender skin of her inner thigh before adding another love bite to match its twin on her other thigh.
“Wait, what about you?” Lily pushed on his head until he could see the determined set to her pretty mouth and the curiosity glowing in her golden eyes. Hmm, it appears anger isn’t the only emotion to elicit a change of color, he mused.
“What about me?”
“Don’t pretend ignorance. I want to please you, too. It’s only fair.”
Owen frowned in an expression of mock disappointment. “Lovemaking isn’t about fair. We’re not keeping tally of this or that to maintain a balance. We give and take as necessary out of l...” He almost said love but knew it would be a stretch at this point for her. Possibly for him, too. Liar. Clearing his throat, he changed course and said, “Out of care for the other. My turn can come later.”
Proud of his quick thinking, he smirked as another reason for pride occurred to him. A medal bestowed upon him for his restraint wouldn’t be remiss.
Though, his reasonings weren’t altogether gallant. Yes, he wanted to satisfy Lily, focus on her pleasure alone. However, part of that need came from a fear of his own stamina. He’d never had a woman’s mouth around his cock, and even the idea of Lily’s pretty mouth wrapping around him...
Well, sad to say, Owen wasn’t entirely sure he wouldn’t spend the moment her lips brushed his skin.
Lily huffed in feigned annoyance before widening her legs in encouragement, reminding him of the task at hand—or rather, the nirvana before his mouth. “As you wish, dear husband. But don’t be surprised when your turn might come sooner rather than later.”
“Surprise won’t be my chief emotion, I assure you,” he muttered before diving in for a third helping of his wife’s delicious pussy. It’s a shame they’d spent so many years estranged; he would’ve liked to wake up every morning to her sweet form molded against his, able to kiss her sleep-flushed skin on a downward path before ending with his head between her legs.
Breakfast in bed. A decadence expected to be taken by an earl, no doubt. He hid a mischievous smile in Lily’s intimate curls, his mouth easily gliding through her plump lips to collect more of her honey.
“Darling, have you ever tasted yourself?”
An incredulous squeak erupted above him, and he knew she was scandalized. Who’d have thought the indomitable Lily Lennox nee Taylor still had it in her to be shocked?
“Of course not! How could you... Why I never...”
“Shame, because you taste divine. Here, take a sip, trust me. I won’t tell anyone what a naughty countess you are.” Owen slanted his mouth over hers, a tad sloppy with her wetness clinging to his mouth and cheeks, but she welcomed him anyway. And moaned.
Bloody hell.
She fucking moaned.
Their tongues tangled haphazardly, none of the finesse of earlier. Their passions diluted to its purest form of raw hunger. “Lily, tell me you want this. Say you want me. Not to finish anything,” he rasped, referencing her strike that first night they fucked. “But to begin again. I need inside you, darling. Please, let me...”
So much for your restraint. But to hell with it! Desperation called for begging, and Owen Lennox was damned desperate.
“Yes.” Lily braced her hands on his shoulders and lifted her hips to nudge his cloth-covered cock. “Yes, make me yours, Owen. Finally.”
Wrenching his cock free, he wasted no time lining himself up with her entrance before pausing. The specter of their last coupling reared its ugly head. It’s in the past. Expunge the memory with this. The perfect afternoon spent in your wife’s embrace.
“Owen?” Doubt crept over Lily’s delicate features, and he hated being the reason to dim the light of joy brightening them mere seconds ago.
Smoothing a kiss over her brow, he whispered, “I want to make this perfect for us.”
“It doesn’t have to be,” she returned, massaging the tense muscles at his neck and shoulders. “Besides, it can't be any worse than my initiation of our first time. I set a fairly low bar, nowhere near perfection.”
He chuckled in disbelief, impressed they could joke about it now. “When you put it like that...” His playful tone faded as he stared down at her. She was so precious to him.
Patience worn thin, Lily's nails dug into his muscle as she urged him closer. “Owen, I swear everything will be fine. We both want this, and if it's not great, then we'll try again. You forget we're married and not teenagers rushing to clandestine rendezvouses. We've got time now to do this properly.”
“You make too much sense for a woman supposed to be wild with lust for me and my cock.”
“Then you and your cock better get to... What did you call it? Oh yes, fucking me senseless.”
The crass demand spoken in her dulcet tones snapped the last of his hesitancy, and he thrust forward, fully to the hilt. His inexperience shot up like a damned weed, but he prayed he could retain a modicum of dignity.
Don’t release within seconds of feeling her tight walls wrapped around your cock and call it a victory.
Strategy set, Owen inhaled a long breath, focusing on the expansion of his lungs—ignoring the thunderous thrashing of his heart—then forcing the air back out in a controlled exhale—not thinking about the persistent clenching of Lily’s pussy.
Good god, this was the most wonderful... Torturous... Exhilarating... Embarrassing moment of his life. Any discipline he’d learned during their youth dissolved after seven years of disuse because his body stood on the precipice of release too bloody soon.
She said it didn’t have to be perfect. Logically, he knew it to be true. However, male pride was another thing. At least you’ve surpassed the length of that first time.
Straining every muscle as he held himself still above her, Owen asked, “Are you alright? Should I wait longer before—”
“Owen...” she groaned in frustration—not the good kind—and he let himself go. Spending like a greenling? It may happen. Satisfying his wife beforehand? Still possible.
His hips slanted over hers, plunging deep in even strokes, his ballocks slapping against her arse, and the irrepressible swelling at the base of his cock signaled his oncoming release. Rolling to his back, he brought Lily around to straddle him.
“What... What are you doing?” Her words may have stuttered but her rocking body didn’t. Despite the uncertainty in her mind, her body instinctively understood what to do.
“I need my hands free for this next part.” Because he needed her to come. Now. While he maintained a thread of self-possession. One hand lowered to the point of their joining, a slower pace with Lily taking lead, and searched until he found the firm bud of her clit. Scissoring two fingers alongside the sensitive bundle of nerves, an immediate reaction came from Lily—the sweetest cry of amazement as she worked harder against him.
“That’s it, sweetheart. Don’t you prefer this? Fucking your husband with abandon. Riding me in full view of any passersby while I rub and suckle every inch of you I can reach?” To make good on his promise, Owen lifted to an elbow and caught a bouncing nipple in his mouth, drawing the pink bud between his teeth.
A thought towards gentleness passed through him, but Lily didn’t seem to be in pain. To the contrary, she pressed herself further into him, urging him on. “More... Please, Owen... I need it harder.”
Every cell concentrated on bringing her over the edge of orgasm with him. Bucking up into her slick pussy with harsh strokes—groaning at the explicit sounds of sex emanating from them. Pinching and rolling her clit between his fingers. Suckling roughly at her breast until the most exquisite taste leaked into mouth.
What the fuck?
They both paused for a split-second, shock written on both of their lust-crazed faces as the illicit desire he’d voiced earlier materialized, before resuming at a frantic race to the finish. Owen kept firm pressure on her breast and enjoyed more evidence of her pregnancy. This is depraved. Drinking his wife’s milk—the sustenance meant for their babe. But the baby wasn’t due for months, and opposition from Lily remained nonexistent.
And Lily said I could do whatever I please with her.
So, he took what he wanted and growled as the sweetest fucking cream he’d ever had ran down his throat.
“Don’t stop...” Lily tightened around him. “Merciful heavens, why does that feel so good?”
“Because you’re a naughty minx, wife, and a wild streak runs through you a mile wide.” He switched to her other breast, and finally—finally—they could hold themselves together no longer.
Mutual shouts of satisfaction rose in the air as Lily’s pussy clamped down on his cock, milking his seed from him in continual waves until she collapsed on his chest, their bodies slick and sticky with sex and sweat.
“Perhaps it’s wise we waited so long to officially consummate our relationship. If we’d done that seven years ago, we’re liable to have been caught and cast out with as much ruckus as we made.”
Lily laughed, a joyful noise that resonated in his heart. I fucking love her laugh. “Can you imagine someone discovering us? It would’ve put my original scandal to shame.”
“It could’ve put someone in the grave. If old Mr. Langston happened upon us, his poor heart may have given out.” She smacked his chest in reprisal, but a chuckle of agreement bubbled forth, nonetheless.
“You shouldn’t joke about such things. Fate has a way of doling out cruel fortunes.”
Owen tipped her chin up. “I thought we were past this fight with fate? That’s what this whole afternoon was about.”
“Not the entire afternoon, thankfully.” Lily yawned and nuzzled into his chest, allowing the topic to float away on the summer breeze cooling them down. “Shall we nap before heading home? All this exertion has tired me and the baby.”
“You’re not too sore or anything, are you? I know I was rougher than—”
“You were perfect. Including the bit where you drank from my...” She stopped short, burying her head as if to escape his heated gaze. “Well, it was all perfect, despite your worries. But I am tired, so if I’ve satisfied your concern over my well-being...”
“Quite, my lady. Feel free to nap to your heart’s content.” And he would lay here basking in her warmth, staying safe in the bubble they’d created—devoid of any of the troubles plaguing them outside.
***
ON THEIR TREK HOME an hour later, something weighed on Lily’s mind, and he hoped it wasn’t regret over their earlier tryst. Had he been overzealous?
Or perhaps she feels the weight of reality becoming heavier and heavier the closer we get to home. Owen hoped things wouldn’t go back to the way they were, but every forward step with his wife seemed to precede three steps back.
“If you nibble any harder on that lip, it’ll be bruised for a week. What’s the matter, Lily-pad?”
“I'm scared I won't be a good mother. You're the good one, not me.” The unexpected statement spilled forth like a dam finally breaking loose. And as far away from his guesses as could be.
“What makes you think that?” he asked carefully, avoiding any tone of accusation.
“At eighteen, I set out to seduce a man to end the affair with my noble lover.”
Owen harrumphed at the dramatic retelling of their history, thankful that it didn't bear the intense pain it did even that morning when he saw her and Lynch. Perhaps their lake escapade had helped him release negative emotions as well.
Yes, except for the dull throbbing near your heart, he thought ruefully.
Attempting humor, he asked, “Have you spoken to Hazel lately, darling? There's been quite an embellishment to our story. A kiss with the stable boy hardly qualifies as a seduction.” He almost choked on the last word, hating the knowledge that her solution to their perceived problem was betraying him with another man.
But you're forgiving her for the misjudgment, aren't you?
Stroking the side of her face with a tenderness borne of compassion, he continued, “Besides, we grew up in relatively happy families. A child of ours can't do worse than a family full of interesting aunts and a doting grandmother. Forget the silly notion of your bad luck or bad blood or whatever you want to call it. We dealt with that at the lake, and it’s settled. There’s nothing wrong with you, and you’ll be a wonderful mother.”
Lily cupped the back of his hand before stepping away, dodging broken branches and tangles of weeds as they followed the path through the forest home. “I lied to you, Owen. When you asked me how I felt about being pregnant, I said that I felt like other mothers. But that's not true.”
She held a low hanging bough aloft for him to pass by her. “When Cara suggested I might be with child, my first thought was that I'm not ready. I didn't want this. Fate was punishing me again.”
“And you still feel this way,” he ventured, not so much a question as a confirmation.
“I don't know. Although we mentioned children briefly when we were younger, I never truly felt an urge towards motherhood. It was more a notion of pleasing you and doing what's expected.” She paused, circling her extended belly with an expression of bafflement. One he wouldn't be surprised to learn he wore as well.
He thought every woman wanted to become a mother. Never in his wildest imaginings would he have considered otherwise.
“These past months, I've grown fonder of the idea, especially after seeing Zinnia’s kittens. But my temperament doesn't seem fit for mothering. I'm not patient. I'll be short with the baby, despite knowing they can't help their crying or fits. What kind of mother is that?”
“We each have our flaws, love.” He let the endearment slip out. “We'll learn together, and it's not like we'll be alone. We'll have help.”
“They'll like my sisters better than me,” she whispered dejectedly.
“No, sweetheart, that's not true.” Owen's arms wrapped around her waist, overlaying her smaller hands. “Our child will love you.”
Like I do.
Bending his head to the crook between her neck and shoulder, he kissed the elegant spot and wondered how it could be true.
He loved her, but a part of him struggled to completely trust her when it came to his heart.
A warring paradox raging inside him.
“Now, you know all of my secrets.” A watery chuckle vibrated between them, only to be cut off by a groan of frustration. “Except that’s not true. I forgot to show you what I wanted to earlier.” She playfully pushed him. “Thanks to your indecent behavior. We’ll have to turn back.”
“You want to go back now? Surely, it’s not important enough to warrant a trip when we’re this close to home.”
Lily ignored him as he blocked her walk back to the lake. “Yes, it is. To pass the time, you can tell me a secret, so we're even. So I don't feel so strange and alone.”
Taking her hand in his, he let her lead while debating what to share as their feet crunched along brittle leaves and sticks, retracing their steps. The two ominous scrolls he'd received came to mind, but he dismissed it. Lily didn't need to feel like their marriage was causing him more trouble than she already imagined.
Recalling another eventful moment on their wedding day, he relayed the revelation of Iris's possible biological father.
“The Marquess of Linton! Iris's sire?” Disbelief rang in the humid air, similar to his reaction to the news. “How is this possible? After all this time? What do you think he has to gain from announcing his parentage now?”
“I’m unsure. He claims only good intentions, but it does seem rather out of character from what I’ve heard about him.”
“Why don’t you hire an investigator to look into him like you did for Jonathan?” A flush rose to his cheeks as he twitched at the suggestion. Smirking, Lily explained, “Hazel told us about your chat with Jonathan. Can’t you do the same with the Marquess? Once we have more information, I’d be more comfortable sharing with Iris.”
It was a sound plan.
One I should’ve thought of despite all the upheaval lately.
Seemed like things kept slipping out of his grasp like sands in a time turner, and he wondered if some of Lily’s beliefs about fate hadn’t rubbed off on him. With things going wrong on the estate, the confusing scrolls, and the doubt he harbored about Lily’s trustworthiness, perhaps his turn had arrived to be punished.
For defying his father’s advice.
Nonsense!
Shaking his head of the dark musings, Owen responded with an affirmative—he’d notify a private investigator to learn more about the Marquess of Linton and his intentions towards Iris.
“Why is it the return journey seems so much quicker than the trek home?” The rhetorical question hung in the air as Lily brought them to their old hiding spot for notes. Reaching inside the tree hollow, she removed the familiar metal jewelry box he’d long-ago stolen from his mother’s vanity—the once gleaming silver dull from years of weathering the changing seasons. Owen’s eyes widened when Lily revealed the inside of the container, a pile of folded letters springing forth.
“What’s all this?” Had she been writing to him all this time? For how long? He hadn’t even thought to check this spot with all the animosity that had been between them, especially after his single note after the ball had gone ignored.
Owen kicked himself for the oversight.
“I wrote these as a way to release my feelings—my inner most thoughts—things I wouldn't let myself admit in the light of day. Emotions I fought until I lost and poured it out on the page so I could fight another day.” Lily handed the thick sheaf of notes to him abashedly.
A filmy haze formed over her eyes as she met his, the sight of her vulnerability breaking his heart. “When I broke us, I think I inadvertently broke something inside myself, too. And, at times, I blamed you for the damage because you left. You believed Asa’s lies. You didn't fight for me despite everything saying the contrary. Illogical really.” She sniffled and shrugged. “Yet the broken hurt part of me wasn't capable of reason. You should have these now that we’re on better terms. Now that we’re moving forward together. Perhaps you won’t judge my past actions so harshly with the knowledge of my true feelings in your hands.”
“Lily...”
She raised a hand to stop him. “No, don’t speak yet. Just read them. I’ll wait for you in the stables with the kittens if you still want to talk.” With a lingering glance of fondness, Lily cupped his cheek gently before turning away, leaving him to unravel the makeshift diary his wife had gifted him.