Free Eliza Lloyd by One Last Night Page A

she
said.
    “No, we will do this properly.” He squeezed her hand one
last time, releasing her with great reluctance. He bowed again. “Would you join
me tomorrow, Your Grace? A carriage ride, perhaps?”
    “I would be delighted.”
    Over the next few weeks, the Duchess of Wallingford was
often seen in the company of the dashing Duca di Lazio, so it was no surprise
when it was announced that they were married by special license and departed
for a Continental tour. Their marriage was the romance of the season.
    Vincent was safely sheltered with Lucy’s sister and Mr. Darrow
had hired a new valet for him along with a private tutor until Vincent went off
to Eaton.
    As the White Cliffs of Dover receded on the horizon, John
and Lucy had retired to their cabin, which was scented with roses. The lull of
the ship was soothing and when the door closed behind them, it was nearly the
first intimate moment they had had since he’d returned to England.
    Lucy fell into his arms and wrapped hers tightly about his
neck, pressing kisses to his face. “I am never again letting you out of my
sight.”
    “It is my hope as well.”
    “Oh Lud, what you do to me,” she said, followed by a deep
sigh. “You must help me from this dress.”
    “There is no hurry.”
    “There is. I must have you now.”
    She fumbled with the furbelows and buttons. John tore at his
cravat, removing it and his jacket, waistcoat and shirt with ease. Lucy was
still working at her buttons while swaying to the gentle tipping of the boat.
    “Turn.” He stepped behind her, skirts wrapping about his
legs. His firm resolve was melting quickly. All had depended upon his absolute
determination to woo and wed her correctly, in a manner acceptable to the
staunchest critic.
    He pressed his lips and mouth to her skin as the silks and
layers fell away. She was elixir. Water in the desert. Life.
    When she was naked, she crawled into the narrow confines of
their bed. Once he shed his boots and trousers, he lay on his side next to her.
    Her hands were busy, caressing his chest and stroking along
the length of his erection. “Have I told you how much I missed you?”
    “Which one of us are you talking to?” he asked.
    “ You , silly man.”
    She slid her leg over his waist and he rolled to his back,
helping Lucy to straddle him. His cock nestled between her thighs, protected
and warm. She braced her hands against his chest before lowering her breasts to
his face.
    John was never happier to be home. He cupped her offering
and gently laved first one and then the other. She arched and moaned, causing a
gentle rocking along his cock.
    “Always wet,” he said.
    “Because I want you. Always.”
    He gripped her hips and lifted her onto his cock. He closed
his eyes for a moment, wanting to experience and remember this day. She smiled
and squirmed, taking him by slow degrees.
    “Oh, I’ve missed this too.”
    She was tight. So tight. But she didn’t seem to notice that
he was feeling very green and untried. Lucy seemed to be playing, wiggling her
ass over his groin, running her fingers over his chest and tweaking at the
small, pebbled disks on his chest.
    She had never been able to take him all but she seemed determined.
She pushed up using her thighs and then slid back down hard. “Oh,” she said. “I
feel you everywhere.”
    John didn’t have the ability to answer. It was a bit
humbling to realize that his slip of a wife could cause him to lose control
when he was perfectly versed at protracted sexual intimacies and bringing any
woman to release. He never ejaculated when he was not prepared to do so.
    “Madame Dupuis sent me a wedding gift,” Lucy said. She had
started short little thrusts, riding him slowly. He could barely hear past his
own erratic breathing.
    “A gift?”
    “Dildos.”
    She had his full attention.
    “There is a slim mahogany one I think you’ll like.”
    His throat clogged and he held his breath, fearful he was
about to spill.
    “I have it