A Breach of Promise (The Rules of Engagement #1)(30)

“You have the loveliest arse, Lydia,” he murmured hotly, cupping the full, twin globes. “I want to devour it.”

He angled her hips to slide a warm hand between her thighs. His fingers languorously loitered, tracing the lips of her vulva and working her slit until she writhed and coated his fingers with the slick and creamy proof of her arousal. Forgetting her earlier half-protest, Lydia gave herself up to the exquisite sensations. His fingers circled and tormented her clit, setting her empty passage clenching in eager, throbbing convulsions of need. Arching her back, she gave herself up to him until she could bear his teasing no longer. With a groan, she grasped Marcus’ thickened rod, frantic to guide him into her.

“Not yet, my pet,” he chuckled, grasping her wrist.

“Please, Marcus,” she moaned, panting and rocking her buttocks against him. Ignoring her plea, his clever digits worked her vulva and clit. He traced the cleft of her buttocks with deft fingers and moved on to her tight little hole, where he lingered with slow, attentive circles at the entrance.

Lydia gasped. “Surely you don’t mean to…” Her scandalized voice quivered with an erotic shudder.

“Fill your tight little arse?” he finished for her with a chuckle. “Oh, perhaps one day, my pet, if you’re amenable to the notion, but for now we’ll take things slowly.” She was already incredibly slick, yet her trepidation only increased her arousal.

Squirming her arse against his rock-hard length, she trembled in her desire. “I don’t care what else you do, just fill me now, Marcus!” Her voice was breathless and desperate with want. “Can’t you see I’m dying of my need for you? Please, Marcus.”

“Please?” Marcus’ voice was low and hot in her ear as he grasped her hip to position his swollen cock at her needy passage. “Why I live only to please you, my love.” He entered her, feeding her his length slowly. His pulsing staff entering her by the inch, stretching and filling. Marcus’ strong solid body leaned over hers, his free hand reaching beneath her, pressing upon her pelvis. Instinctively her back arched and hips rose to meet him, to take him the rest of the way to the mouth of her womb in a long, smooth, sensuous stroke.

“Good girl,” he murmured hotly against her skin. “How does this feel?” he asked, holding himself buried to the hilt and slid his thumb back again to circle her anus.

“It’s not enough, Marcus. I need more.”

“Trust me, my sweet,” he murmured. “I promise you nothing short of unadulterated bliss.” With this he pressed his thumb inside, causing her to gasp at the unfamiliar and almost painful invasion.

“Breathe, dearest. Relax and open to me.” She exhaled and willed her body to ease. “Is it better now?” he asked, his hips beginning to work in unhurried thrusts.

“Yes, it’s just so tight.”

“Aye,” his voice was a throaty growl. “But not painful?” Deep and then shallow, he matched his thrusts with the varying action and pressure of his thumb.

“No. It’s…it’s…” her voice broke off, lost in a delirium of deliciously decadent sensation.

While they had made frantic, frenzied love many times since their wedding night, this time was distinctly different, their breathless silences punctuated by whispers of endearment and low, keening cries until mutually reaching the shuddering pinnacle. More than a mere joining of their bodies, it was a deliberate, slow and languorous merging of two souls.





Epilogue


Bloomsbury Square, London—1749



After months abroad, passed in lengthy negotiations and countless diplomatic functions, the Peace of Aix-la-Chapelle had concluded eight years of war spanning three continents. Lord and Lady Russell returned home in triumph, their part in the delegation’s success the toast of London.

“My felicitations on your success and promotion.” Nicholas raised his glass to Marcus upon their first meeting at Russell House.

“I never could have done it without Lydia,” Marcus confessed with unusual humility. “She proved herself a more-than-capable ambassadress. The Spanish and Austrian delegates were quite taken with her and the Italians completely enamored with her beauty, wit and charm. My new bride is truly a goddess among women.”

“And far too good for you,” Nicolas answered back with a grin. “Which now begs the question of how you ever managed it? I didn’t believe she would ever have you.”

“Ye of little faith.” Marcus arched a brow. “I told you when we departed for Woburn that I would convince her.”

“It seems to me you said you would seduce her. You don’t mean to say you really carried out that nefarious plan?”

“The deed was done most thoroughly.” Marcus smirked. “As I said, Nick, I only needed the chance to have her alone.”

“But that never would have happened had not Mariah’s gown torn. Wait a minute…no, I can’t believe it.”

“What, Nick?”

“Your mother trod on the gown.”

Marcus raised a telling brow.

Nick was incredulous. “You can’t mean to say your mother was in on this Machiavellian scheme?”

Marcus laughed unabashedly. “In truth, it was Mother’s idea entirely!”