Page 91 of A Much Maligned Miss

“I don’t care what we call it so long as you let me see it,” he replied with a wry smile.

“Pudenda sounds like something out of a medical journal.” She winced. “And mount of Venus is somewhat florid…”

“What about pussy?” he asked conversationally.

She hesitated. “Why do you call it that?”

“Perhaps because it is soft and fluffy and I’d like to pet it,” he suggested.

That didn’t sound so bad. Perhaps that was the best term after all. She gave a nod. “Yes, that sounds acceptable. And what do you like yours called?”

He glanced down. “I’d like it if you called it my cock,” he said frankly.

She gulped. “Very well.”

“And now we have that decided, perhaps you’d like to show it to me. Your delectable pussy, I mean.”

She supposed she could not really object, not after she had been ogling his privates so openly. Hesitantly, she widened her legs and his chest heaved. “Beautiful,” he pronounced, then ran his thumb down his thigh before bringing it to his mouth. Caroline watched aghast as his eyelids fluttered shut. “There it is,” he said, almost reverently. “Ambrosia.”

Caroline’s mouth fell open as her cheeks grew hot. Was he saying she had spread her wetness down his thigh? She swallowed and Gervaise stared first at her throat and then her mouth. “Fuck,” he said distinctly, his chest heaving. “I should not—” He broke eye contact and drew in a ragged breath.

Should not what? she wondered. Should not put his head between her thighs? He had done it before though, with much enthusiasm. Her gaze returned to his tumescent shaft, or what was it he had bade her call it? His cock.

He wanted to ask her something, she realized, but could not quite bring himself to do it. What was it? Caroline stared at him with frustration. If he did not ask, how was she supposed to know? She did not know anything. She must be the most woefully inept mistress in history!

She should perhaps have asked Effie, but then Effie had said Jeb was not into perversions and she suspected Gervaise was. Maybe she should have asked old Gracie. She suddenly remembered what the dreadful old woman had said about riding “ventre a terre” on her peer’s face. She could not possibly suggest such a thing! Could she?

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Gervaise drew in a ragged breath. Steady yourself, he thought desperately. You are not going to ask her to do anything that would shock the holy hells out of the respectable woman you are trying to get down the aisle. You are not going to tell her you want her to bend her lovely neck and open her lovely mouth and take your cock into her lovely throat.

“Gervaise,” she said aloud. “You know I have been very deprived in life. We have discussed the matter. At length.”

Focus, Gervaise. “Yes,” he answered, and barely recognized his own voice. It was hard to think let alone talk rationally when his cock throbbed so insistently it was almost painful. “Deprived,” he repeated blankly. Right, he felt deprived too. Deprived of Caroline’s lovely cunt.

His gaze returned there, without conscious thought. Why was he doing this to himself? Caroline was perfectly amenable. She trusted him, she liked him, she had already afforded him so many liberties with her beautiful body that she surely would not deny him at this point.

As though guessing the nature of thoughts, she opened her legs again, spreading her knees and allowing him to see her pretty slit. Oh fuck, she looked pink and puffy from where she had rubbed herself against him. And he could see she was wet. He was not going to make any wise decisions right now.

Christ, he wanted her so badly. He could just…yank her forward into his lap and bury himself in her warm, tight welcome there. Why was he creating barriers right now? He wanted her, she wanted him… His mind struggled to see wherein the conflict lay. He gave his head a quick shake and remembered. He wanted Caroline Halperston for his wife.

That was it, he recalled, feeling slightly less pained. He wanted to marry her. He could cope with the pain of deprivation for such a prize. He would not fuck his future wife above a gin palace while she did not have the protection of his name, he resolved grimly as his brain scrambled to rearrange his lust-addled thoughts.

What if he suggested she sat on his lap and he fingered her? Feeling her pussy wrapped around his fingers would be satisfaction enough. He could come against her hip. He would tell her they were sat on the stone bench in the folly and—

“Gervaise,” Caroline’s voice interrupted him.

“Mmm, yes.” He dragged his gaze from between her legs. Fuck, he was acting like a mannerless boor right now!

She squared her shoulders. “I w-want to—”

“To what?” he prompted when she fell silent. He hoped to God it wasn’t to call a halt to proceedings.

She took a deep breath. “Could I possibly try your ambrosia?” Red-faced, she gestured to his lap, and he followed her gaze to his rock-hard cock. “From the source, I mean.”

What? “My…?”

“It’s only fair. May I?” she asked tentatively.