Cora (Virtue & Vice #4)

ROSE COURT, SUMMER OF 1883

“Dahlias,” Martha sniffed. “Showy.”

“Mother,” Gideon said warningly. Cora bit back a smile.

“All I am saying is that they are the kind of plant one might expect of a—” Martha shot a narrow glare at the courtesan who had just married Lysander, the seventh Duke of Gryphon. Rose’s long blond hair glowed in the summer sun.

“Duchess,” Cora interjected firmly. “A duchess may have as many showy plants as she chooses.”

As could any other woman, but she had learned to pick her battles with her mother-in-law. Reminding Martha that she was now connected by marriage to a real live duke almost offset her sheer horror at also being connected to a demimondaine. Rose Leland was a woman any man would be proud to call his wife, and Cora was just as proud to call her sister. She would not let Martha’s judgmental sourness spoil the day.

“Begonias,” muttered Martha. “Mixed with phlox? And petunias? Was this gardener drinking when he designed this garden?”

“Mother. Enough. You haven’t said one single word about the flourishing roses. Or the beautiful ceremony. If you cannot say anything nice, then don’t say anything at all.”

“How else would you two have time for dancing?” Martha huffed.

Cora gazed down at the swaddled baby in his shaded basket. Curled up beside him with her furry head tucked next to his ear was Titi, napping contentedly. She had finally found a pint-sized, grumpy man to love as her very own.

“Go on. I shall keep an eye on young Griffin.”

She and Gideon had named in honor of her half-brother’s title and the father who had never been able to give her his name.

Across the rose-scented courtyard, a quartet played from a temporary platform. The smooth paving stones offered a space for dancing, and the sun was just beginning to slant across the yard with the golden hour of evening light. Two tiny girls, nearly the same age and both under a year old, one with dark hair and the other fair, held hands with an older lady. Their grandmother.

“Children. At a wedding. How unconventional.” Martha’s expression was difficult to read. It could be longing, despite the hint of disapproval.

“You are the one who likes to remind me that children are the purpose of marriage,” Cora smiled, choosing to be gracious. “I see nothing inappropriate about it. It’s their wedding and Rose loves babies.”

“Looks like it’s time for the bouquet toss,” Gideon interjected.

“I shall be sitting this one out,” Cora said. “Perhaps one of the Flowers will catch it.”

Martha stiffened.

Oops. She wasn’t supposed to call attention to the current and former prostitutes dotting the guest list. “I meant maybe it’ll land in a rose bush.”

Gideon caught her eye. A crinkle around the corners told her he was bemused by her attempt to lie. She was saved by Belladonna’s sweeping approach. Martha took one look at the maid of honor’s yellow gown and flattened her lips. Undeterred, Bella perched on the wrought iron chair and gave the baby in his basket a soft smile.

“I would love to hear more about your opinions about horticulture,” she said without a single drop of condescension. “I am a cultivation enthusiast myself.”

The specifics of what Belladonna cultivated were left unspoken. Power. Money. Sex and secrets. But these days, mostly politics and actual gardening. She winked at Cora and tugged Gideon’s hand, bending him down to whisper something. He bent to listen, his wolfish gaze fastening upon her.

A shiver ran up Cora’s spine.

He patted Countess Oreste’s shoulder. She turned away, engaging Martha whether the other woman wished to converse or not. Gideon held out his palm and said, “I’d like to show you something.”

Hm. A secret. Bella caught her eye and jerked his head.

“I would like to witness this tradition,” Cora said. “Seeing as I never had a chance to toss a bouquet.”

He squeezed her affectionately. “I did not give you the wedding or honeymoon you deserved.”

“But you gave me the life I wanted, and that’s what matters.”

They both gazed down at their son and their dog, snoozing together in the afternoon sun.

“Go on. I will watch him,” Martha offered. If there was one thing she was very reliable for, it was looking after their son so they could have a few moments alone.

Together, they stood at the edge of the gathered crowd. Rose turned her back to the throng of women and, after a quick peek over her shoulder, tossed it with both hands. The bouquet flew over their heads. Ladies laughed and leaped, pushing one another out of the way in an attempt to snatch it out of the air?—

Until it smacked an unsuspecting bystander right in the face.

A hush fell over the throng as she scrambled to catch before the flowers tumbled to her feet, losing a few petals along the way. Ivy clutched it awkwardly to her chest, staring at it.

“You bitch,” she said to her twin sister, half affectionate, half genuinely annoyed.

Cora pressed one fist to her mouth to stifle a giggle.

“Come,” Gideon said low in her ear. “Now that the main event is over, I want to show you something.”

He led her to the guest house toward the back of the garden that had once served as lodgings for the estate groundskeeper.

“What, the gardener’s hoe collection?” Cora snorted at her own joke. “There’s nothing back here.”

“Let me show you, Madam Impatience.”

He pushed open an unassuming door and led her inside. Cora’s eyes flew wide with shock.

“Oh…my.”

She stepped foot into the room. The windows were blocked with thick curtains. A platform in the center was covered with a drape cloth. The walls were lined with more elegant versions of the tools Tulip used at the House of Vice.

“This is a custom dungeon created by the duke for his wife. Bella suggested we inspect the workmanship of the leather before she is presented with it.”

“Won’t it be disappointing for Rose to know that things have already been used?”

“These are the prototypes, pending approval. Lysander refused to sign off on a gift without someone inspecting the quality first. You’d be doing them a favor. Bella wouldn’t have told me about this place, otherwise.”

“Lysander wouldn’t accept anything less than perfection for his perfect Rose,” Cora said fondly. Her new sister-in-law wasn’t an easy woman, but she liked the former courtesan and was glad her idiot brother had finally come around to the idea of marrying her.

Excitement skated over her skin. Even with a nurse, it hadn’t been easy to get time together since Griffin was born. Their couplings had been hurried. This one would be too, by necessity, before anyone noticed them missing. Yet the prospect of getting caught added a delicious spice to the moment.

“Make your decision, songbird. Are we doing this, or is it too daring a risk?”

She could not possibly back down from such a challenge.

Cora opened her front-fastening gown—practical for breastfeeding—and laid it aside. Quickly, she removed as much of her clothing as she dared: the bustle around her waist, her drawers, and anything easy to put back on. The corset required too much effort to get back into in a hurry, and she couldn’t remove the chemise without taking it off.

She could, however, pull down the cups and open the neckline to reveal her breasts to Gideon’s hungry gaze.

The slight smile playing on his lips and the ridge in the front of his trousers told her that he was pleased with her decision. He was not disrobed apart from having removed his jacket, thus forcing her to work her way past buttons and belts to get to him. Each passing second raised the risk of getting caught. Her hands trembled slightly as she extracted his cock and ran her hand down the hard length of him.

Gideon’s low groan brought a faint smile flickering on her lips like candlelight.

“I’ve missed this,” she said, reveling in the velvety edge to her own voice. The curtained windows cast the space into intimate shadow. “Us.”

Her lips parted to make way for the blunt head. Desire pulsed in her belly. She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and glanced up.

“Take my cock,” he ordered in a feral growl. Cora bent forward to meet his thrust, a wet gasp that should be shameful. Instead, it excited her. He tasted faintly of salt on her tongue. Gently, she explored the ridged underside, then back up, savoring his desperate grunt.

Being with him this way felt so freeing. She no longer had to fight him or her own needs. She could simply feel, and oh, did he feel glorious.

“Enough,” he growled, dipping one knuckle beneath her chin and easing her off. “It’s my turn.”

Gideon easily flipped her onto her back, throwing up her chemise and hooking his forearms behind her knees to drag her down several inches, where she landed with a startled gasp. She was not a small woman, but her boxer husband was strong enough to make her feel as dainty as a porcelain doll. Cool air kissed the span of exposed skin at her thighs, followed by the wet heat of his mouth. He dropped to his knees, his erect cock still jutting rudely from his trousers.

“Gideon,” she moaned.

“You teased me for long enough.” A quick nip near her drenched curls sent a pulse of need through her core. “Did you think I wouldn’t exact my revenge?”

He retaliated thoroughly, licking up her center and torturing her aching nub with humor glinting in his eyes. He was incapable of backing down from a challenge, and Cora liked to provoke him into ever-more profane acts. They had months of pent-up tension to fight out.

Gideon sank two fingers inside her and pumped. Already on the edge, it did not take long for the wet sounds and flicks of his tongue to tense her back and tighten her thighs around his ears as pleasure crested through her.

“Good girl,” he murmured against her skin, giving her another little nip in the span of flesh between the top of her stocking and her sex. Cora pushed up on her elbows, panting, to survey the wreckage. Her breasts were exposed, the rosy peaks surrounded by pale mounds. They had grown fuller with the arrival of their son. Gideon’s hot gaze raked over her body, and a fresh wave of need rose in her core.

“On your hands and knees.”

Cora raised one eyebrow at him, but she rolled over and got on all fours.

“This is undignified,” she complained, catching sight of herself in the large mirror mounted to one wall.

“Dignity be damned,” Gideon said, sauntering over to the rack of leather tools and selecting a fearsome-looking muti-tailed whip. His cock bobbed obscenely with each step. Cora couldn’t suppress a giggle.

“Not that one.”

“Very well.” He set the frightening instrument away with a sigh. “This?”

He held out a crop.

Cora summoned all her courage and said, “Why not blindfold me and then surprise me? I want you to unleash your imagination, Gideon. Just nothing too painful, please.”

His cock twitched. The last thing she saw before he placed a strip of silk over her eyes was the little smirk quirking up the corner of his mouth.

“As the lady requests,” he said.

Darkness enveloped her. Cora’s other senses heightened in response. She could hear the strains of music from the party outside and the rustle of fabric as Gideon moved away. The scent of sex permeated the air. His shaving soap. Her perfume, a light floral note. Her nipples tightened into hard pebbles.

“Be a good girl and do what I tell you,” he said from some distance away. Leather snapped. She flinched, though he hadn’t yet struck her. “Don’t move.”

She nodded. Heat rushed to her cheeks when he brought his palm down on her bottom. “Again.”

He swatted the other side. Heat stung and flowered. Her arms trembled with the effort of holding herself upright. Next, Gideon applied a stinging slap of leather. She yelped and nearly collapsed, despite the way her pussy clenched.

“Too much?”

She shook her head, determined to see this through. They might not get another opportunity. This felt wilder than anything she’d ever done before.

Another snap from the whip he’d selected, harder this time. Her whimper echoed in her own ears. Cora’s hips flexed, her ass taunting him to strike her again.

“You like that, don’t you, my daring wife.” He did not phrase it as a question.

Dizzying desire built in her core. “Keep your hands where they are.”

Blunt fingertips traced her sex. Teasing. Refusing to fulfill the promise of that touch. She arched back, trying to impale herself, but Gideon chuckled and moved away.

“We agreed not to have another child yet,” he said thoughtfully, his fingertips swirling the tight pucker of her ass.

Cora moaned, a wordless plea.

“Here?”

He pressed his thumb against the untried muscles. She nodded, weak with anticipation and desire. “Please,” she begged.

There was a dull popping sound like a cork being extracted from a bottle. Cool oil met her skin. He dipped down into her sex and dragged her wetness up the seam of her body, then worked his thumb past the resistant ring of muscles.

“Relax,” he ordered.

Cora tried, but relaxing made her elbows weaken further. Gideon did not reprimand her. Instead, he pushed past the resistance slid first one, then two fingers in and out of her with sure, unhurried strokes. Keeping a rhythm meant to drive her to the brink of madness, while staying on the other side of that line himself. Cora whimpered in frustration.

“Bend forward.”

He pressed between her shoulder blades. Cora’s elbows gave way. Her cheek met rough fabric. Gideon took her by the waist and hauled her back until her bottom was tipped up and splayed for him to see. She sucked in a ragged breath.

“You possess, without a shadow of doubt, the most gorgeous ass I have ever laid eyes upon.” He pressed the blunt head of his cock against the place where his fingers had just been. Everything inside her tightened in startled response.

“Do it,” she demanded in low whisper. She wanted to know whether his cock would feel as good as his fingers had. He radiated heat against her backside, a delicious contrast to the cool air.

“I’ll stop if you say the word.”

Cora bit her lip. Gideon eased inside her, inch by inch, waiting for her to relax between each intrusion. He paused to dribble more oil onto his shaft, the pressed forward again with litany of incoherent curses.

“Fuck, Cora, you feel so good. So tight.”

Her response was a whimper of excitement. She reached between her thighs to circle her clit, resting on one shoulder, on her knees with his fingers digging hard into her hips to steady her as he rocked in and out of her ass.

This was a new kind of pleasure. One she had never imagined feeling good, though they had danced around the issue since they had finally settled into their marriage. It wasn’t the first time Gideon had hinted he wanted to try this, but it was the first time she had said yes.

Why had she waited for so long?

Pregnancy hadn’t exactly made her feel adventurous, and motherhood had been an adjustment. This felt like a return to herself. Reclaiming her curiosity, her pleasure. Her own body.

Giving herself to her husband on a new level brought deeper intimacy.

“Fuck, Cora, come. Now.” He gritted the words out, his movements faster. Cora sped up, chasing her pleasure, catching a wave that swamped her. Rolled her in surf, stole her breath. Stole time itself. Gideon thundered against her, his hips snapping, feral growls tearing out of him with every thrust.

Slowly, Cora returned to consciousness. She was face-down on a platform in a private dungeon with her naked arse in the air and her husband’s still-hard cock embedded deep within her. She’d never been more satisfied in her life.

“We must make a point of doing this more often,” she said as he withdrew. She let her hips fall to one side and ripped off the blindfold. Gideon looked wrecked, his cock softening, his hair disheveled, his eyes wild. He attacked her with a kiss.

“I have missed you. Us.” Another kiss. “I want another baby.”

Cora laughed. “We won’t get one this way.”

“We shall just have to have more sex. Of all varieties.”

“Mm, I can live with that.”

They righted their clothes as best they could and returned to the reception, hand-in-hand. Cora went to feed Griffin with Titi trailing obediently at her side. Gideon went to report back to Belladonna about the quality of Tulip’s whip crafter, then returned to her side.

“He’s finished. Hold your son while I button up.”

Gideon gazed down at his son’s face with a dreamy expression that made her heart swell with pride. He was such a good father. A good man. The right man, for her, had been watching over her all along.