He guided her into the house. Haddock met them in the foyer, instantly taking Constantine’s accessories from him. “Good evening, my lord, my lady.” He pinned his attention to Constantine. “An urgent missive arrived while you were out.”
Constantine could think of nothing more urgent than bedding his wife. “I’ll read it in the morning.”
Haddock grimaced. “The gentleman, Mr. Lambert, delivered it himself and said it was vitally important you read it tonight.” Bloody hell. Lambert was one of the other MPs working on the apothecaries bill.
Pivoting to Sabrina, Constantine took her hands. “I just need a few minutes to read this letter and respond to it.” That had to be the reason for the urgency—Lambert wanted a response tonight.
She gave him a warm, understanding smile. “It’s all right.” She leaned toward him and whispered, “I’ll wait up.”
His body, still teeming with unspent sexual energy, tightened with lust. He’d never felt more base, more primal. He ought to feel disgusted, but he felt…alive.
As she turned and went into the stair hall, Constantine couldn’t help but stare at the curve of her backside, barely discernible beneath the sweep of her scarlet gown. He longed to see it—and all of her—bare.
Soon. Very soon.
“My apologies, my lord,” Haddock said. “I hate to interrupt you and your ladyship. May I say it is nice to see you getting on so well.”
Constantine snapped his attention to the butler, surprised by his words. Rather, surprised Haddock would utter them. Apparently, Haddock was too, for his cheeks bore tiny flags of pink.
“Yes, you may,” Constantine said. “And thank you. Dare I say that you and Mrs. Haddock are an inspiration.”
The pink in Haddock’s cheeks deepened. “I am speechless, my lord. You are too kind. The note is in your study.”
Constantine turned, intent on concluding his business as quickly as possible. Upstairs, his future awaited.
Chapter 17
Pacing the bedchamber as she awaited her husband’s arrival was not new to Sabrina. Her emotions tonight were, however. Instead of wringing her hands with anxiety and plotting how she would suffer through the ordeal, she pulsed with excitement and anticipation.
Charity had helped her undress and brushed her hair out. As usual, she offered to braid it, but Sabrina nearly always did it herself. Tonight, she wouldn’t do it at all. After Charity had left, Sabrina had tied it back with a simple ribbon, then brought the mass forward over her left shoulder.
She’d donned the dressing gown she’d worn to tempt him. Made of dark pink silk, it fastened beneath her breasts and the neckline plunged to a V at the top of them, allowing more than a glimpse of the valley between.
Her nerves were just as fraught as when she’d masqueraded as his tutor, but in a different way. She contemplated telling him the truth, revealing that they had already shared a pair of thrilling, revealing encounters.
Not tonight. She wanted this—needed this—moment for them, for the marriage they were both working so hard to build. What they’d both done to get here had been necessary and understandable.
He seemed to be taking a long time. She paused, wondering if she should go downstairs and lure him up. No, he didn’t need luring. He would come. She was sure of it.
Then she heard him in the sitting room—the sound of footsteps was unmistakable. As was the sound of his door opening and closing.
She frowned. That wasn’t promising. Had he changed his mind? Did he think he’d taken too long and that she’d fallen asleep? No, she’d specifically told him she would wait up.
Sabrina resumed pacing, casting restless glances toward his room as her pace increased. Pausing, she went to the wall and leaned close, straining to hear what he was doing.
Oh, this was ridiculous! They both wanted this. She was sure of it. Just as she was sure she was done waiting.
She stalked to the door and went into the empty sitting room. His door was closed, but she marched right to it and knocked without hesitation.
A moment later, he answered, a lock of hair falling across his forehead as he tied the sash of his banyan. “I was just on my way,” he said, brushing his hair back. “I wanted to change.” His gaze swept over her. “I see you did too.”
She reached up and pulled the errant lock back down. “I liked that. It makes you look more carefree. Maybe even a little bit wild.”
One of his brows arched, which had happened more as of late. The expression gave him an air of humor and charm that made him incredibly attractive. She wanted to throw her arms around him and steer him back into his room. But no, he would insist on going to her chamber.
“Wild? I’m not sure I’ve ever been called that or ever behaved in a way that could be described thus.”
“Not even when you drank too much at Oxford?”
His lips spread into a devastating smile. “Perhaps then.”
She wanted wild. Now. Placing her palms on his chest, she pushed him gently and stepped over the threshold. “Show me.”
His smiled faded as he sucked in a breath. “You want to stay here?”
“If you’ll let me.”
“Sabrina, I will let you do anything you desire.” His gaze fixed on hers with an intensity that shot straight to her sex. Coupled with his intoxicating words, the look he gave her threatened to melt her into a puddle.
He took her hand and pulled her farther inside, then stepped behind her to close the door. “You are so beautiful.” He touched the back of her neck, his fingers skimming along her flesh, then down over the silk fabric covering her spine. He paused at the top of her backside before splaying his hand across it and cupping her firmly. “Beautiful,” he repeated, his lips against her neck.
Her backside tingled and her sex throbbed, but she didn’t turn to face him. She’d been at the edge of orgasm when the coach had stopped. When he’d left her might have been the most frustrating moment of her entire life. Ever since, she’d been on a precipice, teetering. The urge to finish what he’d started was almost overwhelming, but she’d waited.
“I waited for you.” She inhaled as his hand continued to caress her backside. Then his other hand came around her and closed over her breast, gently massaging her. “It was difficult.”
“I imagine it was. How did you entertain yourself?”
Was he asking if she’d…? “I paced. Quickly.”
His thumb and finger closed around her nipple, drawing on it and coaxing the flesh into a tight nub. Her breasts felt heavy and sensitive, desperate for his touch. He pinched, softly, then pulled sharply. She gasped, and he released her.
“Don’t stop.” She pressed back against him and felt his erection press into her backside.
His other hand swept over her hip and slid up to her other breast. He cupped them in tandem, repeating his caresses. Heat flooded her core, and she couldn’t keep from whimpering. She was so close. Could she come just from what he was doing?
Suddenly, she wanted him to be on the brink, just as she was. And she knew how to get him there.
Spinning around, she placed her hands on his chest. “I’m alone out here on the edge, balancing between anticipation and satisfaction. I want you here with me.” She dropped to her knees and untied the sash at his waist.