Even better was the way he repositioned himself between her legs and thrust into her with abandon before she was finished coming, vocalizing every bit of relief he felt at being inside of her once more. His size was only half of the mind-shattering pleasure of him joining with her. He knew exactly how to move and how to hold her so that she felt as though the two of them were suddenly the only two creatures in the world and as if their entire purpose were to fuck. The result was that her orgasm throbbed on and on in concert with his movements, and when he finally tensed and came inside of her with a sensual cry, she was utterly wrecked.
Almost better than the power of her orgasm was the warm, floating feeling of satisfaction that followed as the two of them collapsed together, fighting to catch their breaths. They lay there in a tangle on top of his bedcovers for a moment before Phineas pulled back to dispose of his French letter, then shuffled Lenore between the sheets so that they could nestle together in post-orgasmic contentment. That surprised her as much as anything else. She’d always been given to understand that men lost all interest in women as soon as their needs were satisfied. But Phineas seemed to be eager for a whole different kind of intimacy as he cradled her against him, stroked her hair, and stole feather-light kisses from her swollen lips.
“Thank you,” he said on a sigh, resting back against the pillow and closing his eyes. “That was far and away the most delightful time I’ve had in years.”
“I’m glad I could live up to your standards,” she said, laughing contentedly and nuzzling his neck. “You exceeded expectations in all ways.”
She waited for him to make some other clever reply, but instead she was met with the steady rise and fall of his chest and the warmth radiating from him. She waited a bit more, then lifted herself enough to peek down at him, only to find that he’d fallen asleep.
A slow grin spread across Lenore’s lips. Phineas Mercer was the most wonderful, adorable man she’d ever met. He’d shattered her world and filled her with pleasure like she’d never known, then casually fallen asleep with her in his arms, like an exhausted youth. Her heart couldn’t take that kind of perfection. She brushed away a stray lock of hair from his forehead, contemplating how beautiful he looked without his glasses, then snuggled against his side once more, closing her own eyes. He was the perfect man for her in every way. Being with him felt as though she’d come home.
But that thought brought more sadness than joy with it, and within moments, her contentment was done. With a heavy heart, she crawled out of bed, careful not to wake Phineas, and gathered up her clothes, dressing as quickly possible. She was so much more of a fool for falling into bed with him than she’d thought she would be. She’d known he’d give her a physical experience she wouldn’t soon forget. The problem was that she’d tricked herself into thinking her heart would be safe. It wasn’t. She was in serious danger of doing exactly what she couldn’t do and falling in love with him.
She tip-toed out of the room, carefully shutting Phineas’s door behind her, and fled downstairs, wondering how she was going to get herself out of yet another impossible situation of her own causing.
Chapter 6
Phin couldn’t remember the last time he’d awoken with a feeling of such contentment—a feeling that all was right in the world and that he knew his place in it. He’d been vaguely aware that Lenore had left at some point during the night when he’d awoken briefly to roll over, but he hadn’t let the fact bother him or penetrate deeply into his mostly-asleep brain. Lenore was her own woman and had every right to leave his bed to return to her own when she wanted to. There was no telling who knew she’d gone out for the evening or who would notice if she didn’t return until dawn. He may have made love to her, he may have been determined to marry her, but he wasn’t her master.
A slow grin spread across his face as the echo of his thoughts warmed him. How fortunate was he to have found a woman of financial means and sensual perfection? She was certainly everything that he loved. She was witty and bold, beautiful with or without clothes. The memory of her shapely and delightfully flexible body displayed artlessly for him the night before had him grasping his already half-erect cock so that he could enjoy his mind’s wandering more fully. She hadn’t shied away from the intensity of his desire in the least. Indeed, she’d given as good as she got, surprising him with her forcefulness and her desire.
Everything about Lenore was exactly what he’d been looking for in a bride since coming to London. She was so far from the simpering debutantes that waltzed through the season, pretending to be delicate and retiring while actually being as merciless as a general at war as they maneuvered their way into what they considered an ideal marriage. Lenore had life to her that far surpassed the airs and graces of every other middle-class maiden, whose mama thought his meager title was a step up, that had been thrown at him. And yes, the money she brought with her as a Dollar Princess was essential to his needs. But he had the feeling he’d marry her if she was penniless, if only to have her under him on a nightly basis.
He let his imagination wander to the ecstatic pinch of her face as she’d come last night, stroking himself mercilessly as he did, and finally spent in his hand with a grunt as he dared to imagine what she would look like with his cock deep in her mouth. Any other woman would probably faint if she knew he imagined her that way, but Phin had the feeling Lenore would be titillated and rise to meet his expectations by making his fantasy a reality. She’d find a way to turn those tables on him and leave him completely at her mercy in spite of being on her knees. That thought kept a lazy smile on his face as he dozed for a few more minutes. Lenore was feisty, and he had the distinct feeling she could be just as wicked as he was.
It was the sound of Dora, his maid, cleaning up the dining room downstairs that finally shook Phin to full wakefulness. He realized with a wry grin as he rolled out of bed and went to his washstand that he and Lenore had left their meal half-devoured on the table with the candles still lit. At worst, they could have burnt the house down. At best, Dora would guess why supper had been interrupted. Not that she would mind. He’d hired the young woman for her loyalty and discretion, and he trusted her to keep herself to herself.
By the time he made it downstairs, washed, dressed, and groomed for the day, Dora had moved on to dusting the parlor and barely took notice of him as he wandered into the kitchen for a cup of tea and whatever leftovers Mrs. Wallace, his cook, had saved aside for his breakfast.
“You’re looking rather chipper this morning,” Mrs. Wallace noted with a knowing grin. “But I’m vexed with you.”
“Whatever did I do to earn such censure?” Phin asked the matronly woman, unable to hide the grin that said he knew exactly what she was on about. They’d long since set aside the formalities their difference in class warranted in favor of brutal honesty, which was, Phin was convinced, why she stayed on with him when he couldn’t pay her as much as she was worth.
Mrs. Wallace huffed a laugh and shook her head. “That was a perfectly good chicken I roasted up for you last night, and you left it like it was dog’s meat.”
“I skipped straight to dessert,” he told her with a wink, kissing her on the cheek, then taking his tea and a bun out to his study. God bless all good and loyal servants, especially the ones who were as amused by their employer’s antics as they were by any stage show to be had.