Having Patience (10 page)

But he hadn’t. He’d waited until she was ready.

He moved off her and Patience’s eyes snapped open. She gaped as he shifted his shoulders between her thighs.

“I want to taste you, wife,” he murmured as he lowered his face into the copse of curls there.

Patience’s stomach tightened causing her head and shoulders to roll up off the sheets. Her mouth dropped open. The feel of his lips and tongue on her cunny was so overwhelmingly exquisite she didn’t think she could tolerate it.

His fingers dug into her hips and he lifted her, spreading her mercilessly wider. His tongue darted in and out of her opening and swirled around her clitoris.

“There,” she gasped. “Oh, James…”

His mouth locked on the sensitive bud. Patience was beyond being able to discern what he was doing to her. Without warning, a spasm wracked her. She threw back her head and cried out as violent jolts of pleasure ran rampant through her being.

When the sensations tailed away, Patience realized she had a fistful of James’s hair and was clutching his head to her cunny. Releasing him, she fell back on the sheets but her reprieve was short-lived.

At once, James was back inside her. Patience’s climax began all over again when he slid a hand under the small of her back and tilted her hips up to meet his punishing thrusts.

He cried out, his body tensing as he drove into her once and then again. His cock throbbed within her and then he collapsed on top of her.

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she kissed him and stroked his head, shoulders and back. Turning her head, he pressed a kiss to each tear. “I love you,” he told her and before she could reply, he’d moved and dragged her into an embrace.

Never in her life had she been so thoroughly contented and filled with love. Exhausted, Patience fell asleep in her husband’s arms.

* * * * *

It was still dark when Patience felt James getting back into the bed. Where had he gone? She blinked sleepily and moaned. When she reached for him, he caught her hand in his and pushed it down to his cockstand.

Despite her drowsiness, Patience murmured her approval.

“Suck my cock,” he told her, straddling her shoulders. He laced his fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck and lifted her head.

She opened her mouth, engulfing him. This time, her hands were free and as she laved his head, she trailed her fingertips up and down his thighs. When she gripped the base of his cock in one hand, he shivered and moaned ribald encouragements. “Suck it. Damn, darling. That’s good. Feel how hard you’ve made me.”

He shifted and pulled away. “Turn over and get up on your knees.”

She stared into the darkness but did not protest. Already, her cunny was pulsing with desire. But as she twisted to get on her knees, she noticed he had a jar in his hand. Panic surged as she remembered they had not yet completed the story she’d written.

“Before this night is over wife, I will fuck you every and anywhere I please.”

Delightful dread coursed through her being as he unscrewed the lid on the jar. She recognized it as her own lanolin, a greasy cream she rubbed on her hands in the cold winter months.

With two fingers James scooped out a generous portion of the cream. Swallowing thickly, Patience got on her knees, bottom facing James. She buried her face in the pillow as he coated her rosette with the oily unguent. Her channel convulsed and her rim blazed. She could never take his cock in that hole! Never.

But oh, she wanted to try.

A gasp tore from her throat when his finger invaded her. This time, he did not tease and prod. Instead, he drove the finger in until his fist pushed against her. She expected it to hurt but the greasy lanolin gave him easy access. He worked it out and then she tried to squirm away as a second finger joined the first.

Both digits wriggled into the opening and this time, he slowly pushed them inside. “Do you feel your arsehole stretching for me, Patience?”

“Yes,” she squeaked.

“You’re hot there. Hot and tight,” he ground out.

She clutched her pillow as the two fingers continued their pleasurable assault. She could climax this way. She’d almost done it when he’d fingered her there earlier. Her thighs trembled.

He moved closer and, at the same time, the fingers retreated. Holding her breath, she waited, listening to the gooey sound of him scooping lanolin onto his cock.

He made a rasping sound and the head of his cock nudged her hole. Her knees went weak but somehow, she remained on them. He raked the head up and down her cleft, prodding the hole again. Patience whimpered.

“Tell me you want my cock up your bum,” he commanded.

She sucked in a breath. “I—” she began, unable to finish the request. Her face flamed. She might possibly tolerate it. She might even enjoy it. She could never ask for it.

His palm rubbed her bottom and then slapped her there soundly. “Tell me. Say the words.”

She shook.

Slap!

Heat scorched her backside and she closed her eyes, luxuriating in the mind-numbing sting.

“I want…I want your cock…in my…bugger me,” she stammered.

Slap!

“Say it like you mean it,” he ordered.

She voiced a moan that sounded like a wounded animal. “I want your cock in my bum,” she whispered.

The hands that gripped her hips trembled at her words.

“Bugger me, James,” she said into the pillow.

His thick cock head pushed against the tight opening. Patience cried out as the rim stretched. Searing pain radiated around it and then it gave and he was inside her. She couldn’t take it. There was no possible way.

He pushed forward and it slid in an inch more.

“It hurts,” she moaned.

“You want it to hurt,” he told her.

She tried to swallow but couldn’t get her throat to work.

“Relax,” he said as he pushed another thick, throbbing inch into her tightest recess.

She hissed.

“Reach between your legs,” he said. “Touch yourself. I want you to know which hole my cock is in.”

Shaking fiercely, she touched her fingertips to her clitoris. Shards of pleasure shot through her body and she latched on to the bud, rubbing and stroking.

James drove completely into her and Patience groaned as he filled her to capacity. Now, she recognized the sensations building inside her. “It’s coming,” she blurted. “Oh, James, now. Now!”

James could not hold back as her nether channel clamped down around his cock. Patience bucked and each movement milked his seed into her. Tingles skittered from his scalp to his testicles as he expelled every last ounce of his essence into her hole. When the last vestiges of his climax subsided, he slowly pulled out of her and stumbled off the bed.

His knees threatened to give way and he gripped the bedpost as he caught his breath.

He glanced back at his wife. Patience had collapsed on her stomach. Her backside glistened with lanolin and rosy handprints. Her hair meandered across the white pillowslip in sweat-drenched strands.

James wet a washing cloth in the basin and went back to the bed to clean Patience’s bottom. She remained still, only spreading her legs to give him access as he cleaned her.

Afterward, he washed himself before putting the cloth aside so he could join Patience once more in the bed.

She turned over to face him. Her eyes shone in the early morning darkness. Her face was flushed and her bottom lip bore teeth marks where she’d bitten it. Undone and undressed, she was more beautiful at this moment than she had been dressed in her wedding finery.

Her gaze found his and James unexpectedly felt as if his stomach were stuffed full of butterflies. He’d known his share of women intimately but none had ever affected him this way. The others had been like dance partners to be enjoyed for a short time and then passed to another. But Patience…

James swallowed but the act didn’t lessen the crazy quivering inside him. Suddenly, he realized he could not remember what life was like before she’d come into his life.

She trailed her fingers lightly down his arm and a shiver tore him.

He smiled and brushed an errant strand of her hair off her cheek. “Are you all right?”

“More than all right,” she whispered.

“The story is over,” he said, aware that his heart was flying. “What now?”

The ghost of a smile played on her lips. “I think I’ve found a new calling. I rather enjoyed writing my own story.”

He gave her a winsome smile.

“Besides,” she said, “there are always more stories to write. Maybe some we can write together.”

He traced the delicate line of her jaw. “I’d like that very much.”

Her eyes darkened. “I was afraid you’d grown weary of me,” she said. “When I discovered you were gone, I—”

He felt compelled to be honest with her. “I went to see your father.”

She stared and James wondered if he should have divulged the information. Since he had, he knew he’d better explain. “I…went to ask him what happened with your mother and brother. I thought perhaps it might have something to do with—”

Quick tears welled in Patience’s eyes. “They died because of me. I killed them.”

Chapter Eight

“No,” James said. “Patience, that’s not true. Their deaths were an accident.”

Patience stared. James didn’t know. He couldn’t understand. He hadn’t been there. “It was no accident,” she said. “I’d done something bad. I don’t even remember what it was but Miss Killian was furious with me.”

James started to speak but Patience continued. “I recall being switched and being told I was naughty. And then I heard Mama screaming.”

Renewed grief tore at her heart. “I saw Harry at the bottom of the stairs. Even then, I knew he was dead. And Mama… She was screaming hysterically.”

The long ago images replayed in Patience’s thoughts in vivid detail. She took a faltering breath. “She went into labor and died that same day.”

Patience shuddered and James pulled her close. Her first reaction was to maintain her distance but she forced herself to allow him to comfort her. The deep knowledge that she didn’t deserve his love, however, never wavered.

“You were a child. You were not to blame,” he cooed into her hair.

“That’s not what Miss Killian thought.”

James held her back just far enough to look into her eyes. “Patience, Miss Killian was wrong. The head housekeeper at Walnut Grange told me that Miss Killian was committed to an asylum for the insane four years ago.”

Patience stared. A cold chill washed over her. She shook her head. “An insane asylum?”

James nodded. “Bedlam. She’s mad. Don’t put any stock in the things she told you.”

Patience heard his words but she still could not grasp the fact that Miss Killian had been carted off to an insane asylum. She’d always been a strict governess but Patience had never known anything different. In fact, the stern spinster had been the only mother Patience had ever really known.

“What…what happened to her?” Patience inquired.

“Happened?” James asked incredulously. “Clearly, she was mad when she blamed a child for two deaths.”

“Three,” Patience said under her breath. “Three deaths.”

“Can you recall any of the details prior to Harry’s fall?” James asked.

Patience struggled with the memories. She closed her eyes and saw the switch Miss Killian kept high above the door. Panic welled.

James squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. “What had you done to deserve Miss Killian’s reprimand?”

Patience’s heart began to race. Her breaths came in short gasps. She wanted to thrash, to jerk away from James but he held her fast.

“What do you remember, Patience?” The sound of his calm voice kept her in the present.

“I… She took the switch to me.”

“Why?” James asked.

She couldn’t remember. She couldn’t! And then—

Once more, she was a four-year-old child looking at a picture book. The image she’d seen of the illustration of a mother cradling a baby in her arms floated into view. Patience gasped. Her eyes snapped open and locked with James’s. “I asked her where babies came from. Miss Killian grew furious with me and told my brother to leave the room.”

James’s eyes searched hers and the absolution she found there was almost Patience’s undoing.

His thumb brushed her tears away. “Don’t you see, love? Miss Killian is the one who told your brother to leave the room. What happened to your brother was an unfortunate accident but he was in her charge. Patience, if anyone is at fault, it is she.”

Patience exhaled the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “I’ve lived with that guilt all my life.”

She thought back over the years she’d spent in Miss Killian’s tutelage. The woman had most certainly been severe but Patience could remember more times when Miss Killian was kind than when she wasn’t. The idea of her locked away in an awful asylum cell was unthinkable.

“Did…did Mrs. Donahue say what happened to Miss Killian to cause her to be committed?” Patience asked.

“She did not.”

“If…if she felt responsible at all, I know the guilt and blame she’s felt all these years since Harry and Mama’s deaths,” Patience mused aloud. “It would be enough to drive anyone mad.” She looked past James’s shoulder to where the first rosy hues of dawn crept through the drapes. She suddenly realized what she had to do.

She pushed herself up and started to get out of the bed but James caught her wrist.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“I must go to her,” Patience said resolved.

“Go to her? Patience! Are you mad as well? It’s the middle of the night.”

Patience shook her head. “I can’t let her…languish in a…a madhouse.”

“Why not? It sounds as if she belongs there. To have done what she did to you proves she’s a raving lunatic,” James said.

Patience’s gaze clashed with his. She was shaking and didn’t exactly know why.

James sat up in the bed. “Just what do you intend to do?”

“I don’t know,” Patience said. “I just know that I must see her.”

“A lunatic asylum is not a place for you,” he said. “If you are bent on this course of action, let me send my man.”

Patience shook her head. “No. Miss Killian wouldn’t know him. I need to speak with her.”

James heaved a sigh. “I must tell you, I think this is a foolhardy idea but if you are determined, then I will go with you.”

The idea had come upon her so suddenly Patience had not thought James might forbid her to go. Most husbands would have certainly exercised their authority as the head of the household. Instead, James had indulged her and not in such a way that it made him appear weak.

She stared, loving him more at that moment than at anytime during their courtship or brief marriage. Overcome with the urge to express her gratitude, she rushed to the bed, threw her arms around his shoulders and pressed a kiss to his mouth.

He made a little noise of surprise and then he crushed her against him. His lips coaxed hers open. His naked body warmed against hers. Patience melted, shocked by the renewed sexual desire driving her to slip her tongue between his lips.

He drew back far enough to gauge her reaction before he dragged her over him as he reclined on the pillows. Her thighs parted as she straddled him and her heart thundered as he reached between their bodies to guide his cock into her channel.

She moaned his filled her, dropping her head back so that her hair swished against the small of her back. Big hands skimmed her arms, cupped her breasts and traveled down her sides to cup her hips.

“Look at me,” he said, his voice drawing her out.

Patience lifted her head and the sight of her husband beneath her caused her channel to tighten and squeeze repeatedly. The dark color of his eyes turned smoky with desire. The muscles in his arms tensed and released. Patience raked her fingers through the black down on his hard chest. Her gaze roamed over his body, down to his taut, rippling stomach to where a line of fine, dark hair trailed down to where they were joined.

She watched as he guided her hips, lifting her and urging her back down. The sight of his cock penetrating her was so erotic Patience couldn’t tear her gaze away from it.

“Do you like what you see?” he asked continuing to pump her up and down on his hard phallus.

“Yes,” she said, sensing that all-encompassing pleasure stealing over her once more.

“So do I,” he said, bringing his hands up to her breasts again. “You’re beautiful, Patience.”

She thought he was as well but she didn’t say so. It seemed strange to call a man beautiful and yet Michelangelo’s David was certainly beautiful.

James motioned her down with his fingers. Her breasts and hair brushed his chest. His arms locked around her, his hands splayed wide on her backside. He braced her hips and drove into her from below. Patience buried her face in the hollow of his neck, clamped her eyes shut and luxuriated in the sound of skin slapping skin, of the punishing thrusts pounding her cunny.

“Are you close?” James asked roughly.

The sound of his voice and the mere mention of being close to climax propelled Patience to the verge before she could reply. Her peak hovered—
just there
—and then James cried out.

Every muscle in his body tensed. He arched, pushing up and into her, grinding her cunny from below. Patience rode him, digging her knees in to counter his hips, to push her clitoris hard against his body. Her own cries mingled with his and she floated on the myriad sensations until they ebbed away.

James whispered words of love to her while his hands roamed freely over her back, her shoulders, into her hair. Kisses rained on the top of her head and then her temple until both his hands found and lifted her face so he could pillage her mouth.

“I will never get enough of you,” he whispered against her lips.

She opened her eyes and looked at him up close. Her hair had fallen like a dark curtain around them but even given the shadows, lust-laced heat smoldered in his almost black eyes. She kissed him once more.

“I apologize for upsetting you yesterday,” he told her.

“You needn’t,” she said softly.

He watched his thumb trail along the edge of her cheekbone. “I’ll ring for your maid. We’ll leave after breakfast.”

Once more, her heart swelled at his willingness to support her. “Thank you.”

He indulged once more kiss before he playfully rolled her onto her back. Patience watched as he got up. Corded muscles tensed in his back and thighs as he moved. He was easy with his own nudity and Patience wondered if she could ever be as comfortable without clothes as he seemed to be.

As he collected his garments, he flashed her a smile—one of
those
smiles—that made her feel giddy as if the room were off kilter. She resisted the urge to drag the sheet over her bare body and the way his gaze slid over her in blatant appraisal made her glad she hadn’t covered herself.

He buttoned his breeches and pulled his wrinkled shirt over his head. God in heaven, he was gorgeous. She longed to invite him right back into the bed and have him kiss away all the deliciously sore spots on her body.

He bundled the rest of his clothing in his arms and leaned down to give her one last kiss before leaving the room.

As soon as he was gone, Patience got up to search for her discarded nightgown. She found it in a wad on the floor. After she slipped it over her head, she caught her reflection in the mirror over her dressing table.

Shock coursed through her.

Was that…
her
?

Her hair hung in wild disarray. She had not expected the heightened color in her cheeks or the swell of her reddened lips. What stunned her the most, however, was the difference in her eyes. The look was something she recognized but could not identify.

A knock sounded on the door followed, Wanda’s announcement that she was coming in.

Patience’s gaze darted around the room, stopping on the bed. The old panic threatened to explode. Would Wanda know what had occurred there last night?

Patience forced herself to reign in her rampant thoughts. She was a married lady. Wanda was a servant and as such, knew it was none of her business what her betters did in their marriage bed.

“Good morning, Wanda,” she said cheerily as the servant bobbed into a curtsy. “Lord Somerset and I are going out this morning. I’ll need an appropriate dress. Something…somber.”

* * * * *

Whatever preconceived notions Patience had held about Bedlam crumbled to dust the minute she set foot in the front door. The nauseating stench of a rancid cesspit hung like the morning fog over the Thames. Unearthly howls echoed in the hallways.

A naked man, mumbling to himself lumbered past as an orderly herded him, presumably toward a cell.

Commoners were lined up from the door to the gate. Patience hadn’t realized what the line was for until she noticed a person collecting a penny from each person. “James, are they actually allowing people to come in and…and—”

James’s expression was dour. “I’m afraid so.”

Patience gasped at the ignominy of it all. “How can they parade these poor souls as if they are a part of some circus freak show?”

“These poor souls, as you call them, are unfortunately wards of the crown. I would venture to guess the money generated goes for food and clothing for them,” James explained.

Patience held tightly to his arm, taking comfort in his close proximity. Miss Killian was in this awful place?

“Are you certain you want to do this thing?” he asked.

She swallowed. Hard.
No.
“I must.”

A harried man darted out of what appeared to be an office. He waved them inside. “Lord and Lady Somerset, come in, come in.”

James stepped behind Patience. She was grateful for the hand at the small of her back as she walked into the office.

A female lunatic, Patience guessed was no older than herself, sat on the floor in the corner. Clad in nothing but a nightgown, she sat in the corner, hugging her knees and rocking back and forth. Her glazed eyes stared but did not see.

Patience gulped. What horrible things had happened to these people to cause this madness? And how thin was the line that separated sanity from insanity. A shudder tore through her.