He chuckled, his chest vibrating beneath her hands. “I understand what you mean. Believe me, I did not think myself suited to the task, either.”
“Then why go through with it?” she pressed. “Surely a man of your standing and intelligence could make money by some other means.”
He stared off across the room before responding to her, and she could see him thinking, calculating, deciding whether to divulge his personal secrets. “My sister … she needs a dowry, and quickly. There is a lord interested in marriage, but he needs an heiress. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for Emily.”
Miranda’s heart warmed at the clear affection in his voice for the young lady. As a mother, she could certainly understand his motivation.
“I think that’s very noble of you,” she said, absently toying with the springy chest hairs beneath her fingers. “I hope your first time was an enjoyable experience for you?”
His lips parted in a full grin—a rare expression that left her momentarily stunned. The man was twice as gorgeous when he smiled. That he didn’t do so often only made the moment seem more special, like an eclipse or a shooting star.
“It was … better than I imagined or expected. Though, I am sorry I was so … quick.”
She laughed at his chagrined look. “Think nothing of it. I enjoyed every second of it. In fact … I do believe it might be time for us to try again.”
Roger’s gazed flared with heat as she sat up and pushed her hair over her shoulders, revealing her breasts. His chest rose and fell faster as she straddled his thighs, stroking both hands down his torso.
“Are you ready for more?” she purred, caught up in the sense of power and pride it brought her to see his cock stirring at only the sight of her.
It felt so good to be the object of someone’s desire again. She felt younger, yet still bolstered by the wisdom of age and experience. Roger’s eyes simmered like hot coals as he raked his gaze over her, hands braced on her thighs as he watched her take his cock in hand. At times, she inwardly lamented the softening of her belly and thighs brought on by age and bearing a child—the faint lines beneath her navel showing where her belly had stretched to accommodate her daughter. Her breasts were heavier than they had been in her youth, no longer as pert or perfect. But there was no room for such worries on this night and in this bed, for Roger stared at her as if he’d never seen anything more riveting.
He hissed through clenched teeth as she stroked him, biting her lip as he grew and swelled in reaction to her touch. “Yes … God, yes.”
A bead of moisture welled at the slit in his head, and Miranda gave in to the urge to capture it with her tongue. Roger’s hips bucked at the first swipe of her tongue, then a rasping moan fell from his lips when she did it again. Watching his face to capture every reaction, she sucked him deeper and swirled her tongue slowly around his head.
Roger’s fingers clenched the sheets and the muscles of his chest and abdomen tensed as she inched her way down his length. His breath came in short, uneven spurts, his entire body trembling as she sucked him, laving her tongue along the thick vein pulsing in his shaft. The salty, masculine taste of him overwhelmed her senses, tangling with the heady scent of his musk. His hips pulsed with tiny surges, pushing his cock deeper into her mouth. Any reticence he might have felt seemed to flee with every pass of her lips and tongue over his cock. He released the bedclothes and stroked his fingers through her hair, thrusting into her mouth with unrestrained enthusiasm.
Her breasts tingled as her nipples tightened, and her core clenched with longing at the sounds he made—rough, deep, and low, filled with pleasure and satisfaction.
She waited until he seemed to hover on the precipice of climax, then released him from her mouth. Roger went limp beneath her, watching her with glassy, unfocused eyes as she moved up his body and positioned herself to take him in.
That intoxicating feeling of sensuality and control washed over her again, and she pressed against him—teasing him, testing him. Roger’s hands slid up her thighs to grip her hips, his cock nudging against her opening without finding its way inside.
“M-Miranda,” he whispered, his words strained.
Bracing her hands on his chest, she slowly dragged her nails through his dark hairs, making them stand on end with gooseflesh.
“Roger,” she crooned, running a thumb over one nipple and drawing a shocked gasp from him. “Do you want me?”
“Y-yes,” he replied, then squeezed his eyes shut as embarrassed.
Only, his stammering inflamed her lust more, letting her hear as well as see how she affected him. Miranda undulated against him, drawing another pained moan from him. His eyes flew open to meet hers, and she leaned down to capture his lips.
“Tell me,” she whispered. “I want to hear it.”
He panted against her mouth, his tongue creeping out to tickle against hers. “I … I w-want … you.”
She rose up to take him inside her, slowly sinking down his length. Throwing her head back, she sighed at the feel of him, buried deep and stretching her. His hold on her hips tightened, and he began to move, slowly pumping in and out of her in an excruciatingly perfect rhythm.
“Roger,” she moaned, fingers digging into his chest as she matched his pace, grinding against him to take her own pleasure while giving his.
His only response was a grunt, his hands traveling upward to cup her breasts. They moved together as if they’d done this a thousand times, their bodies attuned to one another with an uncanny unison. Roger’s hips rose off the bed to urge her faster, his fingers plying her nipples to stiff peaks and sending lightning strikes of pleasure straight into her core.
“Yes,” she groaned, her sheath clenching around him in the first spasms of a climax. “Yes, Roger!”
“So g-good,” he growled, thrusting up into in a desperate frenzy. “You feel … s-so good.”
The husky timbre of his voice combined with the nudge of his cock in the just the right place sent her spiraling, and Miranda came off with a sharp cry. Trembling and bucking atop him, she surrendered to her climax, content to let Roger draw it out with precise thrusts of his hips, until he was forced to lift her off him.
Gripping his cock, he spilled his seed with a low growl, his enraptured expression the most erotic sight she’d ever seen.
Collapsing beside him, she stretched and sighed with satisfaction. Her limbs were heavy and her field of vision darkening with fatigue. She felt warm and happy and freer than she had in years. Stifling a yawn, she turned to find him leaving the bed and using his cravat to clean the mess he’d made on his belly.
Roger faced her with downcast eyes, the cravat clenched in one hand. “I should … go.”
The note of uncertainty in his words caused an unsettling reaction in Miranda. He didn’t sound as if he wanted to leave, and she was loath to send him away. Aside from the fact that she’d enjoyed their lovemaking as well as his company and conversation, she had never shared a bed with a man through the night. Her husband never lingered longer than an hour after having her. He’d always promptly returned to his own bed once he was satisfied. It startled her to realize she wouldn’t mind Roger’s presence in her bed. Nor did she wish to make him think he’d done anything wrong.