The Best Marquess by Nicola Davidson

Chapter 16

In the realm of Finn, two things were currently apparent.

First, that the storm had passed. Second, that his cock was hard. No, not just hard, but ready to crush stone hard. And the reason for that was his wife had curled herself half on and half off him, while idly threading her fingers through his chest hair. In the inventing room, it had been Pippa naked and him fully clothed. Now their roles were reversed, and something about the contrast was wildly exciting.

But he couldn’t do a thing about it, because Pippa had her menses.

“Good morning, lady wife,” he said.

Pippa froze, her gaze guilty. “Er…good morning. Didn’t mean to disturb. I’m not trying to mount you, proper consent and all that.”

“I know. I presumed you were deep in thought and needed an activity to occupy your hands.”

“Correct. Also…I like your hairy chest.”

“Why thank you. I grew it myself,” Finn replied, amused. “But before anything else, I must enquire what you meant by sea wall and caramels last night.”

His wife snorted and righted her spectacles. “A sea wall offers protection. I brought caramels in the event you needed a sweetener to let me stay.”

“Bribery is never required for petting, Pippet. Although now you have mentioned caramels it would be a cruel and unusual punishment to withhold them.”

Pippa rummaged under the quilt. “I’m not sure where they ended up after my running dive onto the mattress. Could be anywhere…ah, one moment. Here. Caramels, warmed and only partially flattened by my thigh.”

“Sounds even more delicious.”

“Rake,” she said, rolling her eyes, but she unwrapped the sweets and fed them to him.

“About that…” he said hesitantly, licking sugar from his lips. “I’m not. A rake, I mean. I never was.”

Her brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

Finn took a deep breath. “You weren’t the only virgin on our wedding night. Whatever skill I have, I learned the same way you did. From romance novels, which I will say once again, are the greatest invention ever. You are the only woman I ever wanted to bed. The only woman I will bed in future. Because I love you. So much.”

His wife stared at him in open-mouthed astonishment. “I…er…don’t know what to say. I’m confused. Everyone thinks…well, this wouldn’t be the first time everyone is wrong. I should probably be angry that you didn’t tell me, but I liked the confidence of thinking you knew what to do. Argh. Wait. Did you say I love you when we were in the inventing room?”

“Yes,” he confessed, for there was no point denying it now.

“Huh. Forgive me. I know this is an appalling response. So unromantic. But that was a lot of critical information in a short amount of time and my mind is faltering. I need to lie down.”

Finn smiled ruefully, ruthlessly suppressing any hurt that she couldn’t say I love you in return. “Humblest apologies, but I didn’t want any more secrets between us. Not after last night. That was special.”

“Then I also have a confession. I do not have my bleed. That was a foolish lie because I was unable to wrangle my emotions after seeing what I thought was you with your mistress and child. I do apologize.”

“How are we each going to atone?”

Pippa tapped her chin. “From a purely selfish point of view…you could feast on my pussy with the same reverence and delight that you just ate those caramels.”

She certainly deserved orgasms, after being so open and vulnerable during the night. He needed to give her time to ponder the other cannonballs he’d just dropped into the conversation, and to show with actions how he felt as well as words. “I will always feast on your pussy with great reverence and delight. Caramels have stoically accepted the fact that they are now second on my favorite flavor list. However…I wonder if we might do something new first. Something that I would trust only you with.”

“Oh?” she said casually, but interest glowed in her eyes. “Let me reassure you, my lord husband, that I would take very good care of you. I am vastly experienced. Two whole weeks’ worth.”

He grinned. “Well ma’am, I understand you know the wicked ways of pleasure toys. Specifically, ones that go in the arse. Is that correct?”

“Yes,” she whispered, her nipples now visible against the fabric of her nightgown. “They make a body come in the most delightful way.”

“Then I hope you might take pity on a green lad like myself…and do that to me.”

A smile of pure sin curved Pippa’s lips. “I suppose I could do that. Do you have toys here? And some oil?”

“In that bottom drawer,” said Finn, pointing to a carved oak dresser. “Look for a leather purse.”

His wife practically flew across the chilly room. He almost laughed when she paused to stoke the fire and light two fresh candles—not even the prospect of pleasure could halt that practical streak inside her—but her enthusiasm was obvious; she practically ransacked his drawer to find the purse, and lifted it above her head with all the triumph of a pirate brandishing a treasure chest. “Got it!”

Unable to resist, Finn reached down and took his aching cock in hand, giving it a few gentle squeezes. “Bring the oil and the thumb sized dildo.”

Pippa returned to the bed and presented the items to him with a flourish. “Oh Finn. This is so exciting. What should I do next?”

“Prepare me,” he replied, taking two pillows and stuffing them underneath his lower back so his hips were raised. “Don’t forget to be generous with the oil. And at each step, tell me what you are about to do in the filthiest way possible.”

“Oh God,” she said huskily, lifting her nightgown to slide a hand between her legs. “I am going to touch myself and you are going to watch.”

At the sight of Pippa stroking her wet, fragrant center, Finn groaned. But when her fingers were slick with her own honey and she leaned forward and anointed his lips, he almost came. “More,” he rasped, as once again his tongue confirmed that caramels were a distant second to his wife’s pussy.

Pippa shook her head. “Don’t be greedy. Now, lie back like a good husband so I might see that fine backside of yours.”

He bent his knees and curved one arm behind his head as though utterly relaxed. “Fine? That is high praise. Not much to work toward, then?”

Her cheeks flushed. “Faint praise to manipulate someone into doing more is a shockingly bad habit that I will strive to forget. You have a magnificent arse, Finn. Superb. It is firm and yet not too firm to dig my heels in. The only reason that I refrain from having it cast in stone or bronze, is that I prefer the enjoyment of it to be mine alone.”

“Well,” he said bashfully. “Lovely.”

Picking up the bottle of golden oil, Pippa uncorked it and took a sniff. Her nose wrinkled slightly, but she poured some into her left palm, then swirled the tip of her index finger in until it was coated in the substance. “Ready?”

“I am.”

“By the by…you may not touch your cock.”

“I must protest!” said Finn, reluctantly moving his other hand behind his head.

“Protest acknowledged and dismissed,” she replied crisply. “Now, dear husband, I am going to rub some oil around that hole, then push my finger in. Just like you did to me. It felt…so strange. So very naughty. And the stretch burned a bit. But it was a good burn that made my clitoris throb. I shall henceforth be a strong advocate for pleasure toys in backsides. In conclusion, I hope it feels equally good for you.”

“Please do proceed.”

At the first tentative touch of Pippa’s oil-slick finger, he almost laughed at the tickling sensation. But then her touch firmed and she circled his back entrance before penetrating him about half an inch.

Finn shivered. “Do that again. Please.”

After re-wetting her finger in oil, Pippa carefully slid her entire fingertip inside him. He moaned at the intoxicating pleasure-pain sensation; as she had said, the stretch burned, but at the same time his back arched, wanting more. Christ, his cock ached. And not being able to touch himself and gain ease was a secondary sweet torment.

“How is that?” asked Pippa, peering at him over her spectacles as she thrust her finger in and out of his arse.

He clenched his jaw against a hot wave of sizzling arousal. Goddamn but those spectacles were like another pleasure toy for him. “Good. Very, very good. Could you possibly add a second finger?”

When she did so, knitting together her well-oiled index and middle fingers and pushing them deep, Finn’s ragged gasps echoed in the bedchamber. Much like she had a special spot inside her pussy, it seemed he had an internal one too.

“Do I take it that is satisfactory?”

Panting, he managed to nod. “A bit more, then the dildo.”

Her fingers continued to move inside him, sometimes straight in, sometimes twisting or parting a little. But when she withdrew them, then carefully penetrated his backside with the cool, unyielding jade dildo, Finn clenched the pillow under his head in an iron grip. Nothing mattered but sating his engorged, seed-damp cock; he was so close to coming he could scarcely think.

“I need to orgasm now,” he growled.

“Oh no,” said Pippa sweetly. “We’re just getting started.”

Finn loved her. And he’d been a virgin on their wedding night.

The staggering words had utterly splintered every rational, logical thought in her mind, to the point that Pippa was grateful she had something to do with her hands, something to anchor herself. Yet the more she pondered his confessions, the more she liked them.

As much as she liked pleasure toy play, and that was a whole lot.

Especially right now, when she had him teetering on the verge of a powerful release. Other men might have balked at the thought of their wife putting a finger or jade dildo into their backside, but not her Finn. He had the courage and heart to be both the sea wall and the vulnerable villager. Someone who protected and pleasured and petted but also allowed her to do the same for him. A true partnership.

Pippa frowned. Finn had always been her best friend, but never before had she considered him just hers. It seemed there had been a fundamental change. Finn her friend, then Finn her husband becoming…Finn her one true love?

Surely not. That was entirely too much like a romance novel. And yet…

“Something wrong, Pippet?”

She blinked at his concern, unwilling to share such a monumental thought just yet. Not when it wasn’t fully formed and lacked any kind of logical assessment. “I’m just, ah, pondering which position would be more comfortable for you with that dildo in. For me to ride you or perhaps us both on our hands and knees. Also, do you happen to have nipple clamps here? I should like to wear those again.”

“There are a pair in that leather purse,” he said unsteadily as he rocked a little on the mattress, his chest and temples glistening with perspiration. “I brought home the pearl ones.”

“You are such a clever husband. You may put them on me.”

While he watched, she leisurely removed her nightgown then chemise. His indrawn breath was most gratifying; with him she felt so sensual, spectacles and all. After removing the clamps from the purse, Pippa handed them over then straddled her husband, leaning forward and lowering her torso so he had easy access to her breasts.

As before, she enjoyed the way his fingers massaged and pinched her tender nipples in preparation for the initial bite of the clamps. But now she knew what to expect, her gasp was one of pure delight, and she relished the pain that crashed over her senses before dulling to the delicious throbbing ache that connected directly to her clitoris.

“You are…perfection,” rasped Finn, as he trailed a fingertip around her breasts, down to her navel, and back up again. “Straddling me wearing nothing but your spectacles, hair disheveled, nipples clamped, pussy all wet…but I’m concerned about your clitoris. It appears rather swollen. I may have to take a closer look.”

Pippa shivered with heady arousal. “And how might you do that?”

“Hold onto the headboard. Kneel on the pillows. And lower yourself onto my mouth.”

Good lord. Just like a rather excellent scene in A Wicked Comte.

Whimpering, Pippa went up on her knees. Naturally, she couldn’t allow his chest to be neglected, so as she inched forward, padding with the delicacy of a kitten, she threaded her fingers through his chest hair and bent her head to kiss and suck his nipples on the way up. He moaned and jerked at that, but when she briefly rubbed herself against his cock, teasing him with her bush, Finn swore rather colorfully.

“My goodness,” she scolded, teasing him further with a gentle kiss, brushing her lips back and forth against his, making him moan once more. “Language. There will be consequences.”

“You’re going to wash my mouth out with wet pussy?” he asked, so hopefully, that Pippa couldn’t help laughing.

“That does seem an appropriate punishment for the crime,” she said, rearranging the remaining pillows so they would both be comfortable. Then, holding the carved oak headboard for balance, Pippa gradually lowered herself until she hovered a few inches above his mouth. Close enough to feel the exhale of his breath, yet not close enough for him to use his tongue.

“Let me pleasure you, Pippet…”

The sheer yearning in his voice and the intense cravings of her own body made any further delays unthinkable. Pippa glided her pussy against his lips and Finn’s hands immediately curved around her backside, holding her to him. Seconds later his tongue began to move.

His magical tongue.

At the first flick against her throbbing clitoris, Pippa cried out and tightened her grip on the headboard. But Finn was ruthless, circling the swollen bud, fluttering his tongue against the side in the exact spot she liked, closing his lips around it and sucking firmly. She tried to hold the orgasm at bay, to revel in the journey to the top of the mountain before flying free, but willpower was no match for Finn’s tongue. Pippa screamed as she ground her pussy against his mouth in a greedy effort to prolong the sensation, and the additional tug on her clamped nipples hurled her over the edge into ecstasy.

Eventually she floated back to earth. Finn was stroking the sides of her thighs, and she shuffled back down so she straddled his abdomen rather than his face, before taking several deep breaths to try and regain her senses. “I like…orgasms.”

“I like giving them to you,” he replied as he attempted a smile, but she’d never seen his face look so strained.

Poor Finn needed to come more than any person in England. And she…well, as per usual, one orgasm was never enough.

Carefully, so she didn’t disturb her nipple clamps any more than necessary, Pippa moved away from him and kneeled on the bed. Then she leaned forward, resting her weight on her forearms. “I have a respectful request, good sir. To be fucked rough and deep enough from behind to make me scream again. Do you happen to know anyone who might oblige such a scandalous need?”

His low rumbling growl made her squirm on the bed. Then with the haste of a desperate man, Finn covered her like a big warm blanket, his chest pressing firmly against her back. One arm curved around her waist, and his huge cock glided against the soaked entrance to her pussy.

“Only one man. Your husband,” Finn replied, nipping her neck and shoulder until she whimpered with the need to be filled.

“Take me. Please,” she said, unashamed to beg.

For a moment she thought he might deny her, merely tease until her fingers tore the linen sheets. Instead, he did something far more diabolical; rather than thrusting deep like she craved, Finn fitted his cock to her entrance and lazily pushed just the head in.

“Yes,” he breathed. “So tight and hot. The perfect pussy.”

Pippa tried to push back onto him, so he would be all the way inside her as quickly as possible, but Finn didn’t permit that. He halted, his impossibly thick and hard cock only a few inches deep.

“Finn,” she said, her palms slapping the sheet in frustration. “Don’t you dare stop.”

He laughed, an exceedingly ragged sound, but a laugh nonetheless. Then the arm around her waist moved and he gently nudged her clamped right nipple with a fingertip.

Pippa gave a strangled cry as a streak of fire traveled from her breast directly to her clitoris. Then he did the same thing to the left and her pussy pulsed and spasmed, the violent orgasm shaking her with the force of the previous night’s storm. Only then did Finn thrust all the way inside her, and the stretch and fullness, the sheer relief of an acute need finally met, prolonged the orgasm until she screamed again.

“Oh, you like that sweet Pippet?” he growled in her ear as he fucked her brutally, wonderfully deep. “You like being stuffed full with your husband’s cock? Say it.”

“I love it,” she sobbed. “I need it. I always need it. I need you…”

Finn’s roar of ecstasy echoed in the bedchamber as he yanked his cock from her pussy, and the hot spurts of his seed lashed her lower back like a liquid flogger.

Exhausted, not sure if she would ever be able to move again, Pippa rested her forehead on the pillows. Soon after, Finn removed the clamps from her nipples one at a time. The pain made her mewl, the soothing rub of his palms both welcome and almost unbearable against the too-sensitive tips. But eventually he settled himself on his side and cradled her like two spoons in the cutlery drawer, petting her until she made a ridiculous purring sound.

“Comfortable, Pippet?”

“Mmmmhmmm. Do you need assistance with the dildo?” she asked.

“I’ve pulled it out already. I was grateful for the ring at the end and the flared base,” he replied. “With force like that, who knows where it might have ended up.”

“Be quite a tale if you sneezed and it dropped into your breakfast…talking of breakfast, must we get out of bed yet?”

Finn pulled the sheets and quilt up over them both. “No reason to do so just now. Although later I’ll call for the copper tub. I think a hot bath would do us both the world of good.”

“Then breakfast,” she mumbled, patting his hand. “Never forget breakfast.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” he said, and she could hear the tender amusement in his voice.

Pippa sighed with bone-deep contentment.

They had weathered many storms; surely there could only be smooth sailing ahead.

“I hate to say it, but The Highland Marauder was factually incorrect in one critical area: a bath for two is not romantic. Nor is it the place for activities of an amorous nature. One involuntary twitch and I will give myself a bloodied nose.”

Finn almost laughed, but he and Pippa were sitting in the copper tub facing each other, knees shoved under their chins and arms dangling over the sides. If either moved a muscle yet another tidal wave of water would gush onto the wooden floor.

They had learned this the hard way.

“The laird had a waterfall pouring into a pool the size of the music room,” he replied. “I just think it’s that we don’t have the correct materials. Some of the pleasure clubs in the city have permanent baths made of marble behind their screens. No more lugging a copper tub upstairs, just the hot water. And they are large enough to lie down in.”

Pippa raised an eyebrow; about all she could do to prevent further flooding. “I don’t mean to be a nagging wife, but when are we going to get one of those? Because as exciting as it is to perform contortionist acts and wrap my ankles around my neck, the thought of stretching out in a bath does sound rather lovely. Especially after pleasure toy play.”

“You would like to continue that?”

“That would be a resounding yes. I am shamelessly offering myself up to be used for testing purposes while offering a stern eye for quality. It is important that all Bliss goods meet the highest of standards. I’m also looking forward to seeing what you create next in the inventing room.”

“Probably nothing,” Finn said morosely, wanting to slap the water in frustration, but restricting himself to drumming his fingers on the edge of the tub. “I’m not sure how I’ll have time for Bliss, what with all the duties of a marquess. I don’t want to be half-hearted or a failure at that, not with so many relying on me.”

“Where is it written that you have to do it by yourself?”

“Well yes, there are staff, but I still have to oversee—”

“No, you handsome, delicious twit,” she said impatiently. “I meant me.”

Finn tilted his head. “I was about to say something foolish like the reading of ledgers and reports and documents would be excessively dry, but then I remembered to whom I was speaking. Pippetus Latinus.”

“Precisely…oh, do let me help, Finn. Your sister is an experienced bookkeeper, we could ask her to give me some training, then I will be able to study the estate ledgers with a learned eye. I will ensure we never experience what Gabriel and Lilian did with that crooked butler and his cronies committing fraud. Let this be another part of the new Pinehurst era. A marchioness who is valued for her mind as much as her womb.”

“I adore your mind. It is my second favorite thing about you.”

Pippa flicked his kneecap and water sloshed dangerously close to the rim of the tub. “Bah. The first is my pussy, I suppose?” she said, huffing out a breath.

“Your spectacles,” he mumbled.

“Beg pardon?”

“Your spectacles. There are few certainties in the world, but I know you peering over your spectacles at me will still make my cock hard when we are in our eighties. Just so there is no confusion though, I also cherish your perfect pussy.”

Pippa stared at him; her gaze thoughtful. “You’ve always liked me just as I am. Never wanted me to be taller or have bigger breasts, curlier hair, or bluer eyes. Not with different hobbies or less salt. Never told me I read too much and to go outside.”

“Yes,” he said simply. “From that first moment you shared your ice with me, I knew you would be the center of my world. No one else could possibly compare to the mighty Pippet.”

She visibly swallowed. “Well. Well. You know, all of that sounded rather like a convoluted way of informing me that yes, you will share the burdens of being a marquess. Obviously, I cannot sit in the House of Lords, more’s the pity, but everything else. Then you will have time for Bliss.”

“If that is what you wish, then I’ll gladly give you half the paperwork. I’ll purchase another desk for the library; then you can study ledgers, estate reports from stewards, contracts and invoices, until you mutter about creditors and crops in your sleep. Compensation for the position shall include pleasure toys, explicit romance novels, and paper flowers.”

Pippa sniffled. “I think that might be the best employment offer in the history of the world. I should like to discuss this further, however my skin is wrinkling and my stomach will soon rumble loud enough to make the city fearful of another pending storm.”

It took time and dexterity, but they eventually managed to haul each other out of the copper tub without saturating the floor further. Pippa wrapped herself in her dressing gown and dashed to her own room to get dressed, while he succumbed to his valet’s pleas to shave his ‘pirate jaw.’

A half hour later they walked arm in arm down the stairs, both trying not to wince.

“Definitely no more copper tub for two after vigorous fucking,” Finn muttered.

She laughed. “We look so prim and proper and somber in black, not a couple who plays with nipple clamps and dildos. Now I wonder how many other prim and proper and somber couples take tea and talk about the weather after some light bondage or a stern flogging.”

“Considering the number of orders we received at Bliss, and how popular pain play clubs like Mrs. Berkley’s are, I’d say hundreds. I mean, it might be a corset making the portly gentleman move stiffly at the ball…or it could be the fact that his mistress just caned his arse red.”

Pippa nodded. “It could be nerves making the young widow squirm…or the fact that a masked gentleman just handed her a note telling her to meet him on the balcony, because he cannot wait any longer to lick her pussy.”

Finn halted on the stairs and turned to her. “You are,” he said, curving one hand around the back of her neck and kissing her, while being careful not to brush against her sore nipples, “a very wicked wife.”

“Yes,” she replied, her cheeks pink and her eyes bright. “Fortunately, I have an equally wicked husband. However, if I’m not fed, I will turn from delightfully naughty to just plain feral.”

“Can’t have that. To the dining room!”

Hell. If it wasn’t for the fact that his muscles ached and his backside remained tender, he might strut like a peacock. Yes, it had taken sixteen years to achieve his dream, but the reality of Pippa as his lover, and his wife, was even better than he’d hoped. The way they could just…say anything and have it understood. Be irreverent or serious, demanding or tentative. And even when they made mistakes, know they could ask for forgiveness and atone, because their marriage had a strong, sturdy base of mutual care and affection.

He was certain I love you would come eventually. He just had to be patient. Pippa had already made such brave steps to advance beyond her quite understandable walls. Besides, she was a woman of actions rather than words. In the same way he craved to hear her declare her love, he needed to do better at expressing it with deeds.

When they entered the dining room the scents made his mouth water; apparently, he was just as ravenous as Pippa. The kitchens had outdone themselves and the sideboard near-groaned with dishes: toasted bread and butter, marmalade and berry preserves, coddled eggs, sliced ham, and sautéed potato. Next to the food were two pots, one of tea and one of chocolate.

Pippa glanced at him, her eyes glinting. “Well, here’s my breakfast, is yours still coming?”

“Sit down and behave, Lady Pinehurst,” he admonished. “Or there will be no new toys for you.”

“Yes, my lord husband,” she replied, with such false demureness, that he rubbed his jaw to halt a laugh. They did have an audience of footmen after all.

After filling their plates, they ate in companionable silence. Pippa kept sending him apologetic glances as she shoveled in another bite of food, and he patted her arm before reaching for one of the newspapers sitting in a neatly folded pile beside his plate. Some news of the world would be welcome; with everything that had happened at home in the past few weeks, it felt like he had no clue what was going on in the city, or the country for that matter. Indeed, some nice, normal politics, banking, or trade would be just the thing.

“Beg pardon, my lord, my lady.”

They both looked up to see Travers hovering in the doorway.

Finn shook his head, unsure whether to groan or begin packing their trunks so they could move to the top of the most isolated mountain in the realm. “Just say it, Travers.”

“Forgive me for the disturbance, but ah—”

“No need to announce me, I’m family,” said Lady Kingsford as she marched into the dining room…Lord Campbell in tow.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

He glanced at Pippa as he took her hand and interlaced their fingers, wanting to infuse her with all his strength. The dragon had held sway over the village for far too long; it was time for the mighty Pippet to rise and conquer, with him protecting her back.

Today the village would unleash, and ensure all its enemies turned tail and ran for good.