“Is it my turn already?” Alyssa opened her eyes and found her husband cradling her in his arms. She stretched like a cat, arching her back, luxuriating in the aftermath of an exquisite release of the tension Griffin had managed to build within her. The tips of her breasts brushed against the hair of his chest, and his insistent male member rubbed against the soft flesh of her hip.
“No, it’s mine.” Griffin smiled tenderly. “I think you just had your turn.”
His double entendre was lost in her sense of fair play. “Oh, no,” she protested. “That thing you did—the way you touched me with your fingers—was your turn. I believe it’s my turn to seduce you.”
Griff shook his head.
Alyssa frowned.
“Don’t look so disappointed,” he said. “You’ll get your turn. I promise you’ll have ample opportunity to seduce me once we reach the manor.”
“But that’s hours away “
Griffin chuckled. “Not anymore.” He turned his head, glancing toward the opposite seat. “Hear that chiming?”
She nodded. “What is it?”
“My pocket watch,” Griff answered, helping Alyssa sit up before he reached over and grabbed his breeches.
“I set it to chime before the last half hour of our journey so we would have time to—” He cleared his throat. “Prepare for our arrival.” He retrieved his timepiece and pressed a tiny lever that ended the chime.
Alyssa couldn’t believe it. It seemed as if the last two and a half hours of the journey had passed in the blink of an eye. Or in the space of a kiss. “We’re there?”
“Almost. We’ve probably already crossed onto Abernathy land, but the road is a winding one, and it will take a bit longer to reach the manor. We should arrive shortly.” He shrugged his shoulders. “So, you see, my lady, your seduction of me will have to wait a little longer.”
Alyssa heaved a theatrical sigh worthy of one of her mother’s. “I’ll do my best to endure the wait.”
Griffin grinned at her. “Buck up, my lady; at least you achieved a measure of satisfaction. Many women live their entire lives without reaching that sort of bliss.” He glanced down at his rigid member and managed a mocking smile. “And at least you’ll be presentable when we get to the manor. I doubt that I shall be so fortunate. My breeches are made tight to prevent chafing when riding and to endure the rigors of travel. They are not made to accommodate my present condition.”
“I wondered how you managed to confine all that.” She reached out and caressed the velvety-soft tip of his member with her finger. “Inside your breeches all the time, without anyone noticing.”
Griff closed his eyes, bit his bottom lip, and fought to control himself. “It isn’t like this all the time,” he reminded her. “And until I met you, I was able to confine it on a regular basis. Even after I met you—so long as I didn’t allow myself to think about…”
“Seduction,” Alyssa offered, trying to be helpful.
“Quite.” Griff bit out the word, then sighed as the image had the predictable effect and his anatomy grew more insistent and rigid. “Well,” he exhaled. “There’s certainly no confining it now.”
“What do we do?”
He leaned back against the wall of the coach. “We still have several options.”
“What are they?” she asked.
Griff knew the answer to his present condition. There were only three ways to solve it satisfactorily, and one of them was prohibited by the rules of the game, since he’d promised himself he wouldn’t take his bride’s virginity in the coach. He could take matters into hand, so to speak, but that was not something a gentleman normally allowed an innocent to witness, or he could persuade his bride to take matters into her talented little hand. Or into her mouth. Or between her thighs. Or between her breasts. But he didn’t think that was quite the thing a gentleman would suggest to his bride on their wedding night. So…
He pretended to ponder the solution. “We can wait,” he said. “We can get you dressed, then sit quietly and see if that helps solve my present condition. If that doesn’t work, we can get you dressed, then have Myrick drive past the manor for a mile or so before doubling back.”
Alyssa frowned. “Wouldn’t your driver and the staff wonder why we passed the manor?”
“Probably,” Griff said. “But Myrick is too polite to inquire. And there would be a great many more questions if we drove up to the manor and stayed in the coach until I can safely make an appearance.”
“There has to be a way.” Alyssa bit her bottom lip and then looked up at him and gave him a brilliant smile as she came up with the solution. “What happens if you spill your seed?” she asked, nodding toward his erection. “Will it go down?”
Griffin’s tongue was firmly in cheek when he spoke. “It will indeed.”
“To a size that can be confined inside your breeches?”
He nodded.
“Then that’s the answer,” she announced. “Can you take care of it yourself, or will you need me to help?”
Griff closed his eyes and breathed another prayer to the gods, thanking them for sending Alyssa Carrollton into his path. Still, Griff felt compelled to warn her that what she was about to do might be considered advanced lovemaking and not something one would ask of a bride. “I would prefer your assistance, Alyssa,” Griff answered honestly. “But, as this act is something I’m not quite sure a gentleman would ask of his bride right away, I’m quite capable of taking the problem in hand myself.”
“Is that why you stopped me before?” she asked. “Because you’re not certain it’s proper for us to do it on our wedding night?”
“In the coach on our wedding night,” he clarified wryly.
“Oh, well.” Alyssa became very logical and practical. “I’m not certain any of this”—She lifted her hand and gestured toward their pile of discarded clothing, indicating her nudity and his—“is proper in a coach where we might be discovered at any time. But I think, perhaps, that’s part of the allure of the game.”
“I think you may be right, my lady.”
“Is the act perverse? Or sinful?” she asked.
“Some will say so,” he admitted. “I prefer to think of it as natural. And pleasurable. Either way, I’m entering new territory. I’ve never asked such a thing of a lady before or performed it myself in front of one. It’s something I’ve only done in private or in the comp—”
Griff could have bitten out his tongue. He seemed to be violating quite a few tenets of gentlemanly behavior this evening. And now he’d gone and done it again. For a gentleman never spoke of Cyprians in the presence of his wife, much less the presence of his bride of less than a day. Unfortunately, Alyssa was very easy to talk to. She invited conversation and confidences with her wit and her intelligence and her questing nature.
“Only in the what?” she wondered.
“Only in the company of Cyprians,” he told her.
“Of course,” Alyssa replied thoughtfully. “Of course, a Cyprian can participate in intimate acts ladies consider improper. They aren’t bound by the same constraints that bind us. They have more freedom.”
“Not necessarily,” Griff said.
“Cyprians have less freedom than debutantes?”
“No, of course not. Only that the life of a Cyprian isn’t always pleasurable.”
“It is when she’s with you,” Alyssa told him.
Griffin’s mouth went dry. His heart began to pound, and his male member began an insistent throb. It took him a moment to find his voice, and when he did, all he could manage was, “Alyssa?”
“We are still playing a game of seduction, aren’t we?” she asked.
He nodded.
“Then pretend I’m a Cyprian, instead of a lady,” Alyssa invited. “Because I intend to watch as you take matters into your hand.”
“You intend to watch, my lady?” Griff asked, shifting into a more comfortable position on the coach seat. “Or you want to watch?”
She looked him in the eye.
“I want very much to watch. And when we reach the manor, I want, very much, for you to teach me all the things a proper Cyprian should know about pleasuring you and about pleasuring herself.”
Griff leaned over, pulled her close, and kissed her, hard.
Alyssa closed her eyes and kissed him back. She used her tongue to tempt and tease him as they played the age-old game of seduction—of advance and retreat, of give and take, of mutual surrender. She followed his lead until he relinquished control and followed hers. They played the game over and over again, leading each other on a merry chase, deepening their kisses with every stroke of their tongues as they teased and tormented each other with kisses that were so hungry and hot and wet and deep that Griffin was finally forced to end them. “Are you certain?” he asked.
“Quite,” she answered. “Why should Cyprians have all the fun?”
“Why indeed?” He met her steady gaze, then reached down, took hold of his burgeoning erection, and began the familiar motion. “Watch and learn, my lady Cyprian, for you shall surely be tested later.”
Chapter Twenty
“For weeks, I’ve been counting the hours until I could join my regiment and fulfill my destiny! Now I count the hours for an entirely different reason. Now, I am willing to admit, that while I will go to take my commission in His Majesty’s Army, my destiny may lie much closer to home…
—Griffin, Viscount Abernathy, journal entry, 06 May 1810