After an entire day of grappling with thoughts so tumultuous she’d quite feared losing her usual calm demeanor forever, Delilah needed quiet and privacy.
But mainly, she needed Ben.
Tender feelings did not at all encompass her current swirling emotions. She had fallen in love with him, plain and simple. What else could she feel for someone who had rushed from a ball to warn her of trouble, offered his unconditional support, but also refrained from interfering in a business matter? Who had not only defended her, but punched the wretched Lord Fletcher twice in the stomach and escorted him from the building? Not since Archie had a man both respected and taken care of her like that. Yet Ben seemed to understand her even better than her late husband, for while marital relations with him had been satisfactory, being bedded and forced to orgasm repeatedly by Ben was truly sublime.
Almost stumbling in her haste to reach the parlor, Delilah took a deep breath to try and calm her racing heart. It was a laughably unsuccessful effort; only one thing would restore her balance and ease her mind: being held tightly in Ben’s arms, and coming hard with his cock buried deep inside her aching pussy.
“Delilah, I need to apologize…” he began, as they both entered the parlor, but she gestured to continue on through her dressing room to the bedchamber’s connecting door.
“In here.”
In the privacy of her room, she lit several candles that soon bathed the bedchamber in a cheerful golden glow. Ben walked over to the fireplace and stoked it, before turning and leaning against the mantelpiece, his expression the very portrait of tension. “So. The verdict. I would rather blunt honesty than dissembling, for I am a little at sea right now. You kissed me downstairs and it seemed like it meant something, but I may have ruined that with a display of fisticuffs in the coat room. What say you?”
Delilah strolled over to stand in front of him. “I have so much I wish to say. However my thoughts are a little jumbled and I need a moment to clarify them. One thing that is clear though…a strong desire to express my gratitude for your actions downstairs. Never before has a man been both my silent supporter and a pugilistic champion. I am most thankful.”
He tilted his head, his tension easing. “Express your gratitude, hmmm?”
“Yes, Your Grace,” she purred, placing her hands on his chest and slowly trailing them down to unfasten his jacket and waistcoat so there might be no mistaking her meaning. “As you did to me.”
Ben lifted one hand to cup her cheek. “Then I think, madam,” he said gruffly, “you need to get on your knees and suck my cock.”
A tiny whimper of excitement escaped at the command, and Delilah reached for a chaise cushion to kneel upon, before attending to the front fall buttons of his formal breeches. Even now, his erection grew harder before her eyes, and she couldn’t wait to have him in her mouth, to taste him as he’d tasted her. “Let me. Please.”
He took his thick length in one hand to grip and squeeze it, teasing her as he withheld the magnificent column of flesh, yet she silently rejoiced for Ben was touching himself without shame. Then he tangled the fingers of his other hand in her hair and tugged, forcing her head back a little as he nudged her lips with the swollen head. “Open your mouth and take me, Delilah.”
She quivered in anticipation, extending her tongue to delicately lap the head several times before closing her lips around his cock and sucking it down her throat, greedy to take as much as she could. “Mmmm.”
Ben groaned, tightening his fingers in her hair and circling his hips as he began to gently—and then not so gently—fuck her mouth. Due to the girth it took all her will to keep her jaw relaxed and tongue flat, to not give into the temptation of touching her wet, throbbing pussy as she pleasured him. This was his reward. She had no doubt it would be reciprocated in full later on.
Her duke would insist on that.
“Yes,” he gasped. “Feels so good. Suck me harder, sweetheart. Just like that…Christ…I’m going to come…and you’re going to take every drop.”
Delilah sucked him feverishly, fluttering her tongue and hollowing her cheeks, while her fingertips stroked across his balls. Seconds later a low, guttural roar escaped his mouth and his seed spurted down her throat. She swallowed it all, before licking his cock clean and letting it rest, still semi hard, against his silk breeches.
Silently, demurely, Delilah sat back on her heels and waited for Ben to catch his breath. Eventually he crossed the room to the small decanter of brandy she kept on her desk, poured a glass, and returned to hand it to her. Although she had not minded the salty, earthy taste of him, she welcomed the fiery burn of the nerve-settling palate cleanser and gulped the contents.
“Shall we go to bed?” she asked huskily.
“Only if you want me for the night,” he replied, his tone uncompromising. “I won’t be a lover by the hour.”
“You may regret that, when you see my uncombed hair and my face without rouge in the morning. I’ll just be Delilah. Not the Mistress of Sin.”
Ben shook his head. “I want all of you, not just the face that the public sees. Now, you may share your thoughts while we undress. No matter how jumbled they are.”
After kicking off her shoes, Delilah rose to her feet and lifted up her hair so he could unfasten the buttons of her gown. “You surprised me earlier,” she began, as she tugged the sleeves down her arms and removed the garment. “Most men like to wrest control from a woman, even if they are unfamiliar with the situation or facts. But you said you would be a witness, an accomplice, or an alibi. You offered support while giving me a choice, and…it gave me hope.”
“Hope?” he asked, pausing in his unlacing of her stays to kiss her neck.
“If you…oooh…want coherent answers, you cannot do that.”
Ben nipped the sensitive skin where her neck met her shoulder, making her moan. The wicked man was taking forever to free her from the stays, when all she wanted to do was rip off her chemise and rub her naked body against him.
“You’re right,” he said equably, as her stays and chemise at last dropped to the floor. “I should wait and ask while kissing your nipples instead. They look eager for my mouth, all taut and swollen. Which in turn makes me ponder the state of your clitoris. Does it need to be sucked? Is your sweet little pussy wet?”
At the gloriously explicit talk she so enjoyed, Delilah near-swooned against his chest even though the fabric of his embroidered silver waistcoat was rough against her bare back. But she couldn’t answer even the simplest of questions when he cupped her breasts and began delicately pinching the nipples until they were almost too sensitive to touch. Instead, she writhed in a delirium of delicious pleasure-pain at the display of sexual dominance over her. The student was indeed becoming the master. “Ben…”
“Do you know,” he said unexpectedly, “You are the only person in the world I permit to call me that. I do not like the pastime of shortening names, or titles for that matter. Like Tun. Ugh. But I am starting to believe I might permit you anything. If you were mine…”
Delilah closed her hands over his and interlaced their fingers, even as her heart clenched. Ben would be a wonderful lover, strong and caring and attentive, until she lost him to marriage. And she would lose him, for he had stated in the past his desire to marry a noblewoman and also a distaste for adultery. But life could be short, and happiness fleeting, as she well knew. Courageous women took risks in the hope of that rich reward: love returned. “I am yours.”