Cressida's Dilemma by Beverley Oakley

she always had.
    “I’m sorry, Justin, I can’t—” she croaked, her parched lips desperate for his understanding kiss.
    But tonight Justin did not look as understanding as usual. He stilled, his hands withdrawing themselves from her body. A myriad of emotions flashed across his countenance—surprise, confusion, a brief flash of anger, then…
    Nothing but dull resignation, oh, so much worse than anger and disappointment. Those she could meet with her own protests, perhaps propelling all that stood between them into the open. He might hate her for her disloyalty, but at least he’d understand.
    Right now, even Cressida didn’t understand. She had no idea of the nature of the practicalities that Miss Mariah had suggested might be the answer to her troubles. How could she properly explain to Justin her encounter with a common doxy who’d promised to show her ways to minimize conception during lovemaking? Or of the alternative sensory exploration she’d witnessed earlier in the evening? She could no more do that than sail into White’s and join her husband for a whiskey at his club.
    And then, as her hand inadvertently brushed across his nightshirt and she felt the size of his erection, that alternative sensory exploration returned as a possible salvation.
    She blocked her mind to the fact that he’d consider it so out of character for her to take such an initiative. All she needed right now were delaying tactics, and if they made Justin happy, all the better.
    Quickly, without saying a word, she pressed him onto his back and shimmied beneath the bedcovers, taking his erection in her hands and flicking her tongue across the tip of his manhood.
    She heard his sudden intake of breath in the silence and stilled. Waiting. The man at Mrs. Plumb’s had certainly enjoyed such a sensation, but what would Justin think when it was his wife attending to him in such a manner? Would he be similarly enthralled…or horrified?
    At least it was better than any other alternative that involved procreation.
    His entire body was rigid with surprise—and anticipation?—but he said nothing, just placed his hand gently on her head and breathed out in one long sigh.
    Emboldened, Cressida drew the length of him into her mouth. How hard and hot it was. And how delightful it was to be the giver of such pleasure. Always she’d waited for Justin to initiate any variation on their bedroom delights.
    Another groan. Surely she wasn’t hurting him? The look of ecstasy on the face of tonight’s bronzed warrior suggested a man did not find such attention painful. No, Justin’s groan was definitely pleasure, for he was as tense as an arrow’s bow. She shifted onto her knees, feeling the moisture between her thighs, a sign of her own excitement. She gently increased the pressure with her hands around his rigid shaft while her mouth moved up and down, her tongue flicking the length of him. She was balancing the score and she was enjoying doing it. She could do this every night without ever having to worry about conceiving again.
    On this happy thought, she focused her entire attention upon pleasuring Justin, using her tongue along the length of his shaft—just as she’d seen it done at Mrs. Plumb’s—circling it before taking him deeply into her mouth in a series of languorous thrusts.
    “Cressida…darling…” His voice was hoarse as he dug his fingers into her shoulders. He seemed to be straining, using every ounce of willpower to keep still. She sensed what he must be feeling. She’d felt it many times, herself, when Justin’s pleasuring had brought her to the cusp and she’d held back, feeling a strange mixture of both terror and ecstasy before spiraling into the glorious abyss.
    She wanted Justin to feel the same wonderful sensations to which he’d introduced her. Exultation, pride and satisfaction welled up inside her. Without Mrs. Plumb’s help, Cressida had discovered the secret to bringing her husband pleasure without