Having had quite enough of this, Phoebe decided she would show him just exactly what he was doing to her. She placed her hands on his own chest, feeling coarse hair underneath her skin, before running them down over the fine, supple muscle of his torso. She kneaded insistently as she went lower still, and just when she had found the vee below his waist that she was so admiring earlier, she wrapped her arms around him, bringing them to his backside and digging in as she pulled him toward her.
“Phoebe,” he gasped. “Do not … you are—”
“What? Torturing you?” She asked wickedly, and he closed his eyes tightly and nodded. She laughed then, and before he even realized what she was doing, she flipped herself up, throwing a leg over him so that now she was on top and in control.
“Phoebe, what are you—”
“Hush,” she said, bringing a finger to his lips. “We are doing this my way now.”
“You do understand that my intention was to delicately make love to you,” he said dryly, and she laughed, shaking her head.
“Well, you will be sorely disappointed then,” she said in a low voice, leaning down to nip at his bottom lip, and he let out another groan.
She wasn’t altogether sure what she was doing but knew only what she needed at this moment, and that was him.
Phoebe lifted herself up, and, with his hands on her hips helping to guide her, she slid down on top of him, then experimentally began to move back and forth. Oh, this was beyond words, she thought as she threw her head back as the pleasure filled her. Jeffrey guided her back and forth, and when she looked down at him, she saw the mix of pain and pleasure on his face that equally filled her entire body.
She leaned forward over him, her body now finding the pace that was as natural as anything had ever come to her before, and soon she was near sobbing in anticipation of what was to come. His hands rose once more to her breasts, and the moment he began to tease her nipples, pleasure began to course through her in waves, an inexplicable exhilaration that she could not put into words.
Jeffrey gave a shout himself, and soon was pulsing into her, her release allowing him to find his own.
When they both finished, Phoebe collapsed down upon him, spent as well as filled with a joy she had never known possible. For unlike the last time, now she knew that this was not just a moment in time between the two of them, but rather the beginning of a life to come together. She could still hardly believe it, and wanted to check with him once more that this — she — was what he truly wanted, and yet she knew it was true, knew that he was the man for her, just as she was the women for him.
“Have I told you how much I love you?” he murmured into her hair.
“A couple of times,” she said, “though I do not believe I should tire of hearing it.”
“I love you, Phoebe,” he said. “And while I could spend all day in this bed making love to you, I have been distracted for far too long. There are a few … urgent matters that we must discuss. Your future — our future — could depend upon it.”
“Well, that sounds awfully grave,” she said, sitting up now, and when he nodded, she was shocked at the serious expression that had once more covered his face. All she wanted to do was lean over, take his perfectly clean-shaven face in her hands, and kiss those strong, grimacing lips. She would kiss away his frowns, smooth the lines that covered his face, soothe away his worries. All she vowed to do for the rest of their days together. But first, he clearly had something on his mind, and she knew better than to continue to distract him from his purpose. So instead of doing as she wished, she clumsily slid off him, off the bed, and began to pick up their garments.
Finding that her dress was even dirtier that she would have thought, she crossed over to her wardrobe, searching through to find something appropriate. She chose a violet dress that was fairly similar to the red and turned around to find Jeffrey pulling his shirt over his head.
“Do you fancy the role of lady’s maid this afternoon?” she asked, and when his face was visible again, he nodded.
“I promise to do my very best, my lady,” he said, “though I confess I can do nothing with your hair. I am much more adept at taking apart, so it seems.”
“So you are,” she said wryly, donning her chemise and then lifting her gown overhead, turning around toward him. “I’m ready.”
Even the brush of his fingertips against her back set her nerves on edge once more, but apparently there were things to discuss. Once the two of them were each dressed — to an extent — she led him back out the door into the drawing room, where the tea had grown cold, though the pastries remained, beckoning to them.
“So,” Phoebe said, taking a seat on one of the settees. “What was it that you had to tell me?”