a heel into the small of his back. Her muscles squeezed him tight each time he pulled out as though trying to keep him inside. The sound of him sliding against her juices filled the room, accompanying the dull thud of their clothing crashing together.
A small part of him registered how her grip around him tightened and her shudder as she gasped out her release, her inner muscles contracting around him. He followed her scant seconds later, his seed flooding into her. His climax rushed through him, forcing out grunts from deep inside him, and he slowed his thrusts, bringing their coupling to an end.
Faint laughter and conversation floated down the corridor and snuck into the room, becoming more audible as their breathing and hearts slowed. John pressed his forehead to hers as he caught his breath, dropping soft, slow kisses on her lips and cheeks.
Her grip on him relaxed. Legs releasing his waist, she gently nudged his chest. He had no choice but to step away, his cock sliding out of her. John gave her a quizzical look, but she adjusted her dress and retrieved her hairpins from the floor without looking at him. Following her lead reluctantly, he tucked himself back into his falls and picked up his kerchief, long having fallen to the floor. Without asking her permission, he moved back to her and lifted her skirts.
“Stop—” she exclaimed with surprise and tried to push his hands away.
He pressed the kerchief to her core, cleaning up their lovemaking. “Allow me this,” he said. “I would not have you uncomfortable or embarrassed.”
Louisa stood awkwardly, her legs pushed slightly apart as he tended to her, her hands hidden in her raised skirts. She didn’t know what to do or where to look, so she directed her gaze to the row of casks beside her. Somehow having him clean her up was more intimate than what they had just done. The material was soft against her sore flesh and the way he pushed against it was soothing.
When he was finished, he stuffed his kerchief into a pocket and tucked some of her hair behind her ear. At that, she brushed around him and left the cask room, hurrying back toward the office. She pushed through the growing crowd of the pub and into the kitchen, distractedly noting how smoothly things were running. Timothy was still peeling potatoes, Alan now helping him, telling her that it had not been all that long since she had last been in here.
“Did you find ’im, Mrs. Brock?”
She pulled up short at the sound of her name and blinked at Maisie. “I beg your pardon?”
The cook scooped stew into two bowls and placed them on a tray already laden with buns. Rose, one of the serving maids, took the tray out into the pub. “Mr. Taylor. Did you find ’im?”
“Oh. Yes. I did.” She continued to the office and closed the door, shutting out the kitchen and noise. Rubbing her forehead, she leaned against the door and the reality of what had just transpired hit her.
Well, that was unexpected.
C HAPTER T EN
----
L ouisa poured herself another glass of wine and sat back in the chair, staring out her window into the darkness. She had moved into her cottage shortly after completion of the roof; her chamber was still the only habitable room, but it was all hers and it afforded her the privacy she craved. She had moved a table and chair from other rooms to provide more functionality and was pleased with the result.
She took a long sip of the wine she had pilfered from the inn, enjoying how it slid down her throat. She would leave Giant Johnny a note in the morning so he could balance his inventory. The inn was dark across the yard, the pub long since closed and all the guests abed, the moonlight casting shadows over the property. Only half the rooms were occupied tonight, but it was a great improvement from a few weeks ago. One of the rooms was a repeat customer, a fact that pleased her—repeat customers would tell their peers about their favorite places to stay.
She sighed, annoyed at how
A small part of him registered how her grip around him tightened and her shudder as she gasped out her release, her inner muscles contracting around him. He followed her scant seconds later, his seed flooding into her. His climax rushed through him, forcing out grunts from deep inside him, and he slowed his thrusts, bringing their coupling to an end.
Faint laughter and conversation floated down the corridor and snuck into the room, becoming more audible as their breathing and hearts slowed. John pressed his forehead to hers as he caught his breath, dropping soft, slow kisses on her lips and cheeks.
Her grip on him relaxed. Legs releasing his waist, she gently nudged his chest. He had no choice but to step away, his cock sliding out of her. John gave her a quizzical look, but she adjusted her dress and retrieved her hairpins from the floor without looking at him. Following her lead reluctantly, he tucked himself back into his falls and picked up his kerchief, long having fallen to the floor. Without asking her permission, he moved back to her and lifted her skirts.
“Stop—” she exclaimed with surprise and tried to push his hands away.
He pressed the kerchief to her core, cleaning up their lovemaking. “Allow me this,” he said. “I would not have you uncomfortable or embarrassed.”
Louisa stood awkwardly, her legs pushed slightly apart as he tended to her, her hands hidden in her raised skirts. She didn’t know what to do or where to look, so she directed her gaze to the row of casks beside her. Somehow having him clean her up was more intimate than what they had just done. The material was soft against her sore flesh and the way he pushed against it was soothing.
When he was finished, he stuffed his kerchief into a pocket and tucked some of her hair behind her ear. At that, she brushed around him and left the cask room, hurrying back toward the office. She pushed through the growing crowd of the pub and into the kitchen, distractedly noting how smoothly things were running. Timothy was still peeling potatoes, Alan now helping him, telling her that it had not been all that long since she had last been in here.
“Did you find ’im, Mrs. Brock?”
She pulled up short at the sound of her name and blinked at Maisie. “I beg your pardon?”
The cook scooped stew into two bowls and placed them on a tray already laden with buns. Rose, one of the serving maids, took the tray out into the pub. “Mr. Taylor. Did you find ’im?”
“Oh. Yes. I did.” She continued to the office and closed the door, shutting out the kitchen and noise. Rubbing her forehead, she leaned against the door and the reality of what had just transpired hit her.
Well, that was unexpected.
C HAPTER T EN
----
L ouisa poured herself another glass of wine and sat back in the chair, staring out her window into the darkness. She had moved into her cottage shortly after completion of the roof; her chamber was still the only habitable room, but it was all hers and it afforded her the privacy she craved. She had moved a table and chair from other rooms to provide more functionality and was pleased with the result.
She took a long sip of the wine she had pilfered from the inn, enjoying how it slid down her throat. She would leave Giant Johnny a note in the morning so he could balance his inventory. The inn was dark across the yard, the pub long since closed and all the guests abed, the moonlight casting shadows over the property. Only half the rooms were occupied tonight, but it was a great improvement from a few weeks ago. One of the rooms was a repeat customer, a fact that pleased her—repeat customers would tell their peers about their favorite places to stay.
She sighed, annoyed at how
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