A Portrait of Love (The Academy of Love #3) - Minerva Spencer Page 0,108

had her positioned how he wanted he leaned back to admire her. “Bloody hell you’re gorgeous.” He slid a hand over her long, lean flank, tracing the generous curve of her arse, his fingers dipping into her cleft.

She jolted when he grazed her tight little pucker and he smiled. There would be plenty of time for that some other night.

He parted her delicate folds and lightly circled her bud. “You’re wet, Honey. I think you enjoyed putting your mouth on me.”

She squirmed beneath his erotic petting, pushing against his hand.

On his next stroke, he slid a finger inside her. Good God she felt like heaven.

He kept that blasphemous thought to himself but continued his thorough exploration.

“Answer me, Honey—did you like pleasuring me with your mouth and tongue?”

She growled, sounding a bit like an angry badger. “Yes, I liked it,” she said in a mulish voice that made him grin.

“You liked what?”

“Doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“You won’t quit asking until I say it will you?” Her voice was muffled by the bedding, but he could hear her desire clearly beneath her frustration.

“That’s right, darling, I want to hear you say it.”

“I liked—” she stopped, making the most adorable huffing sound.

“Hmm?” He stroked her a few more times before positioning his crown at her entrance. “I can’t hear you, love.”

“I liked licking your—”

Simon slammed into her, fingers digging into her hips as he buried himself as deeply as he could.

“Simon!” she cried, loudly enough to rattle the windows.

“Honoria,” he whispered in response, his pulse pounding in his ears as he kept himself sheathed. “Did I hurt you, love?”

She whimpered, shaking her head back and forth, her hands clutching the bedding.

When she clenched around him and pushed back, Simon did a little whimpering of his own.

And then he proceeded to make his wife scream.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Simon? Simon?”

“Hmm?” he removed the spectacles he needed in order to read most writing and looked up, his lips curving into a smile when he saw his wife.

But they turned down when he saw she wasn’t smiling back at him.

“What is it, love?”

“Lady MacLeish and Lady Frampton are here.”

Simon frowned; was there some reason he should know this? Something he’d forgotten?

“Yes?” he asked when it was clear she had nothing else to add.

“Lady MacLeish said that you called on her and told her to visit.”

“Yes, that is true, I called on her last week—the day after we encountered her on our ride with Heyworth.”

She stared at him, her posture rigid.

Simon suppressed a sigh. Had he done wrong? Lord.

He took a step toward her; she didn’t retreat from him, but her body language did not beckon him closer, either. “My mother said she’d told you about my past with Bella.”

Honey nodded.

“My mother isn’t the only person who will recall that Bella and I were once very close.” He shoved a hand through his hair. “My brother took her family in dislike years ago, and because his behavior sets the social standard, it has been difficult for the Framptons. Rather than cause any gossip to fade, I believe Wyndham’s unkind treatment of them has kept old rumors fed and healthy. I decided to take the bull by the horns, so to speak. The sooner people see that Bella means no more to me than any other acquaintance, the better.”

“And that is why you called on her in secret? To tell her such things?” she asked.

He restrained his annoyance at her sarcasm. After all, he could understand her reaction because he wouldn’t like having an ex-lover of Honey’s living a mere mile away. And he would be furious if she went to call on such an imaginary person without telling him.

He held her gaze. “Yes, that was one of the matters I wished to discuss with her,” he admitted. “I see that perhaps I didn’t handle it as wisely as—”

John Murphy, the foreman of the stables project, appeared in the doorway of Simon’s makeshift office. “Oh, I beg your pardon, my lord—”

“It’s quite all right, Mr. Murphy,” Simon said.

A construction site was not the place for the discussion he and Honey were conducting.

He nodded at the other man. “I’ve looked at the plans and agree with your assessment. Go ahead and double the number of beams.”

“Aye, my lord.” Murphy disappeared back into the corridor.

“Lady MacLeish expressed a desire to speak to you,” his wife said in clipped accents, and then spun on her heel.

Simon bit back a curse. Bloody Bella. What the devil could she want from him? “Hold a moment, Honoria, I’ll come