A slow smile curved over her mouth and she flung herself at him, holding him tightly. Ludo savoured the moment, happy and a little bewildered that she had not expected at least that much from him. What a bad bargain she had been willing to strike. He could not comprehend why she would take such a chance, for she was not so foolish as to be dazzled by a pretty face alone. Well, whatever her reasons, he would do his best, in all things, which reminded him….
He reached down and swept her up, laughing at the incredulity in her eyes as he lifted her with ease.
“Goodness, you’re strong.”
Ludo snorted. “You’re a featherweight, love.”
She made an incredulous sound. “Oh, what a plumper. I certainly am not anything of the sort.”
He tsked with impatience and set her down carefully on the bed, leaning over her. “I don’t know what kind of maggoty ideas you have in that head of yours. Though I suppose I ought to expect such nonsense from someone hen-witted enough to marry me, of all people, but let us dispense with this nonsense once and for all.”
“What nonsense?” she said, eyeing him dubiously as he made his voice stern.
“The idiotic notion you have about being too heavy, too big, too fat, or whatever preposterous ideas you have about yourself.”
Her dark brows drew together, and she shook her head. “I know you’re being kind, Ludo.”
“Damnation!” he said, throwing his hands up. “I’m not being kind, you little widgeon. I mean… just look at you….” He did just that, his breath catching as his gaze travelled over her body, laid out for him on his bed, their bed. “You’re splendid, gorgeous, a bloody goddess, and I’m going to prove it to you.”
Bunty stared up at him, astonished by the obvious desire in his eyes. He really meant it. He did not think her too tall, too plump, too… everything. Though she had never done so before, Bunty questioned why she thought she was. Well, because she’d been told so. Her mother was always imploring her to lose weight and father always looked disapproving if she ate a dessert. She’d been teased as a girl by those who were supposed to be her friends and she’d heard too many disparaging comments from men not to take them to heart, and yet….
And yet Ludo, this big, glorious man, was looking at her as if she were the last cake in the world, and he was starving.
It was rather… invigorating.
He’d said she was splendid, gorgeous, a bloody goddess!
For the first time in her life, Bunty rather thought she felt like one too.
He’d also said he would prove it to her. She wondered just how he intended to do that, but then she realised he was taking off his clothes, and thought of any kind was suspended.
He made rather a performance of it for her, sliding off his cravat and tossing it to her with a wink, before easing out of his coat. Slowly, he unbuttoned his waistcoat, his eyes never leaving hers, that heated and intense gaze making her insides quiver with anticipation. Once he cast it aside, he tugged the shirt from his breeches before pulling it over his head in one smooth movement.
Bunty’s mouth went dry.
If she was splendid, he was… magnificent.
Big and broad, his shoulders and arms were impressive enough, and now she saw how he’d lifted her as though she’d been made of spun sugar. His chest, though…. Words failed her, though her fingers itched to touch him, to run her fingers through the fleece of coarse hair on his chest and touch the thick quilting of muscle beneath. The desire to rub herself against him like a cat was almost overwhelming, but then she realised he’d discarded his boots and stockings during her reverie, and his fingers had moved to unbutton the fall of his breeches. Bunty was riveted to the spot, filled with curiosity. She had seen the naked male form before, in sculpture at any rate. Not every figure had a strategically placed fig leaf, though she had always been a little underwhelmed by what she’d seen and wondered how that appendage had done the job required of it. All such questions were firmly—and appropriately—put to bed as Ludo pushed his breeches and small clothes to the floor, and kicked them to one side.
“Goodness,” she squeaked.
Ludo smirked at her, and she covered her mouth with her hand as a giggle escaped.
He tilted his head to one side, narrowing his eyes.
“Are you laughing at me?” he demanded with mock outrage.
“N-No.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
“Oh, I’m s-sorry,” she managed, struggling not to laugh. “Only you looked so d-dreadfully pleased with yourself.”
“And why not?” he demanded, his dark eyebrows flying up. “You were looking at me in a way that made me feel about ten feet tall.”
Bunty sighed as he moved closer. “You are rather splendid, Ludo. So handsome. Are you really mine?”
“Yes,” he said firmly. “And there’s no changing your mind now, it’s too late. You’re stuck with me.”
Ludo climbed onto the bed and lay down beside her, his head braced on his arm, his eyes warm and mischievous. He looked happy, and Bunty could not help but smile in return.
“Good afternoon, Lady Courtenay.”
“Good afternoon, my lord,” she replied politely, for all the world as if they had just greeted each other in the park.
“May I debauch you now, my lady?”
Bunty choked out a laugh, only to see him grinning at her with such a boyish gleam of amusement that she threw back her head and laughed again.
“You’re dreadful!” she exclaimed, and then caught her breath as he climbed over her. He stared down at her, his blue eyes bright and glinting with desire.
“Yes, and you like it, so you must be every bit as wicked. Let’s find out, shall we?”
Bunty was only too happy to do so, sighing as he started where he’d left off. He kissed her everywhere, touching her reverently, caressing and painting intricate patterns with his tongue. The most shocking sounds were drawn from her until she was panting and clutching at the bedclothes, her skin damp as he returned to the sinful place between her legs and made her believe she might go mad as her body spun out of control. It was as though she had been an instrument, put away and forgotten, dusty and unused, and suddenly he had come to teach her how to play, for he seemed to know her body far more intimately than she had known it herself.
She wasn’t even shocked when he slid a finger inside her; she only moaned her pleasure and revelled in the way he praised her for her lascivious behaviour. The louder she was, the better he seemed to like it.
“Say my name,” he begged her, his voice husky as he slid another finger inside her and caressed until she saw stars. “I want you to come with my name on your lips.”
She did not entirely understand what he was asking her for, but then he applied his mouth once more. Pleasure rolled over her, making her hold her breath as the onslaught became overwhelming. She clutched at his hair, at the bed, at anything that might keep her tethered to the earth for surely she would fly away.
“Ludo!” she cried, her body arching, his name torn from her as waves of incandescent joy surged through her, over and over until she was sated, boneless, and utterly spent.
She was only dimly aware of him kissing his way back up her body, and she blinked hazily at him as he settled between her legs. It was only as he slid that wicked, masculine part of him against her oversensitive flesh that she gasped, and her eyes flew open.