His Spoilt Lady by Vanessa Brooks

the torn shirts that
night, resignedly gave up and would wait until the morning. She
bustled behind the screen to use the chamber pot and wash. When she
had completed her toilet, she called out, requesting that John
fetch her night-gown for her. John walked over to the screen and,
reaching behind, took a gentle hold of her arm, drawing her out
into the room.
    “Come, my
dear,” he said, “I will help you disrobe. As you so rightly pointed
out earlier this evening, it was I who was remiss in leaving you to
cope without a maid’s assistance.”
    Linnett
reluctantly allowed him to lead her towards the bed. He turned her
to face him and started to undo all the front lacing on the dress.
Linnett had chosen the front-faced opening deliberately so that she
could manage without assistance. She kept her eyes downcast and
watched as his strong fingers deftly loosened the laces. He then
pushed the robe off each of her shoulders in turn, so that her
bosom lay enticingly exposed. John bent his head and kissed the
soft white swell of her breasts. He tilted her head back, and his
mouth closed over hers possessively. He kissed her lips apart and
flicked his tongue teasingly against hers.
    Linnett tried
to pull back. She had no wish for a repeat performance of the
previous night, but John slipped his arms around her holding her
closely pressed her up against his muscled body leaving her no room
for manoeuvre.
    As the kiss
progressed, Linnett relaxed into his arms and, somewhere in the
centre of her being, warmth began to build. Mounting heat flooded
through her veins. John moved his hand down her back in slow
sensual strokes until he reached her lovely, womanly buttocks;
gently, he squeezed them and pulled her against the length of his
body. He lifted his head and gazed into her eyes, which had flown
open as he broke away from the kiss. His eyes held hers fast, and
she was mesmerised. His compelling gaze darkened with desire, and
he traced the shape of her parted lips with a finger. “You are so
lovely…. your body is made for love, Linnett, do not fear… I want
you so much, and tonight will be different....I promise you.”
    Linnett started
to pull back from his embrace, but John held her fast. He stepped
back and sat upon the bed, cradling her on his lap. Carefully, he
opened the front of her dress and then her shift ribbons. He
completely freed her delectable breasts, his hands catching them as
they spilled free of the filmy material. Weighing them in his
hands, he moved his thumbs over her nipples, making them stand out
in rosy peaks. Linnett drew in her breath sharply, feeling
strangely warm and languid. She was also nervously aware that she
had nowhere to escape to and so she submitted to her husband’s
attentions.
    Lowering his
head, John kissed his wife long and lingeringly, God, she was
lovely, he thought as his hands gently caressed her erect nipples.
Her arms crept upwards and wound themselves around his neck. John
moved one of his hands down to her lap and pulled her skirts
upwards. Linnett watched, breathless, as his hands disappeared
beneath the white lace of her petticoat, sliding up her parted
inner thighs stroking the velvet skin above her stockings, his
fingers tantalisingly brushing against her soft womanly mound
hidden beneath her drawers. Linnett was immobilised by the
sensations that John was arousing deep within her.
    Then John
deftly lifted the silken dress up and over her head and threw it
aside; she gasped with surprise, but he quickly he resumed his
attentions. John turned his head, nipping Linnett’s neck and
rolling her over so that they lay across the bed. She squealed,
lying on her back with her legs flung high over his hip, open and
at his mercy. John bent his head to her breasts, skilfully biting
and sucking at her swollen nipples. He placed his hand above her
knee and stroked his way high up her leg until he again reached the
soft skin of her inner thighs. He pulled at the ribbon on her
pantaloons