… marry her…

… have her all the time, any time… only his… no worry about boring her, wearing her out, or the end of the affair and who would be fucking her next… her allegiance, her body, her nipples, her sex would be his, and only his...

How could he live without it?

Marry her-the natural continuation of the pleasure game-

Marry her…

"If he offers," Regina said tentatively-and there was no great assurance that he would-"I will accept."

Reginald closed his eyes wearily. "I suppose that is the only choice. It is not the one I would have made for you."

"It has all been given too much prominence; I can see noth-ing else to do, particularly since, as you pointed out, this notoriety will not die down anytime soon."

And there it was, out in the open. It was but two days till the end of the month, and Raulton supposedly was poised to make a declaration. London was holding its collective breath.

Blast it. That a man could force someone to accept marriage despite her wishes just because everyone expected it… it was by the force of society's wishes-and mores-that she had come to this pass.

And everything with Jeremy must end.

But if Raulton didn't come up to point? Must she relinquish Jeremy then?

She paced the library long after her brief conversation with Reginald. This was a hard-won lesson. The freedom she coveted, sexual or otherwise, was a fantasy of her own devising. She was not free. She was in thrall to the expectations of her social peers and to propriety.

And not to her dark, voluptuous nights with Jeremy.

At the end of it all, she still wanted marriage and children, and she did not want to spend her days and nights worrying about the hour, the minute that he would tire of her, and what would come next.

She wanted, she needed a life beyond the bedroom walls.

With Raulton or not. She had not the temperament to be a mistress, after all. Only the will, the body, the desire, the insatiable need…

But not the temperament… she was as prosaic as any country miss, and as provincial. She could not slough off those feelings, those fears, and that was the difference between her and a mistress.

And if it turned out to be Raulton, then so be it. And so she would tell Jeremy-tonight.

Marry her.

The idea was slowly sinking in, and it suddenly occurred to him that he was not seeing her as that pesky child he had known for years now that he had been bedding her.

He saw her as a woman, with a mind of her own, and with a spectacular beauty, presence and elegance.

And that was apart from her sexuality. That was a thing all its own that could not be quantified. And so, if just the thought of her aroused him to the point of ejaculation… how could he live with the idea of her giving herself, giving her nipples, to another man?

Fucking like that with another man?

Any other man?

Raulton?

By damn hell-NO…

No one else, not her, not that body, not those nipples…

Shit-he was erect, hard as bone. Her nipples got to him every time, even the thought of them in some other man's hands…

NO…

No.

Marry her.

And play with her nipples for the rest of your life…

He came, as always, like a shadow in the night, and like the mistress she was, she waited for him, this time for the last time, to savor him, to make indelible memories before she said goodbye.

He needed no foreplay; she was naked and hot for him already. He needed only to slip the key in the lock, and his penis into her heat, to bind her to him yet again.

…fuck her…

… marry her…

… fuck her again…

… and again…

… and again…

He spurted, he came, he fucked her again.

And again. And again.

And again.

He fucked her to a faretheewell, and then he fucked her again, forward, backward, on her breasts, on her nipples, in her luscious, endless pleasure hole, he took her.

And when they were both panting, satiated and utterly worn out, he took her again.

It was almost as if he wanted to imprint himself on her, to fuck her and fill her to the point where no other man could take his place.

… marry her...

Somehow, she thought, in a swamp of luxuriant pleasure, somehow he knew this was to be their last time.

He knew nothing except he never wanted to leave her.

Or leave her to another man.

He wanted to root in her. Play with her. Fuck her to the wall.

Marry her.

Dawn was coming far too soon.

"Jeremy…"

'Not now. I need your nipples."

"You always need my nipples."

"True, and it's something to seriously consider."

Light filtering through the curtains signifying a beginning and an end.

She caught her breath as he rubbed his thumb back and forth across her distended nipple. "Jeremy…"

"Shhh…"

Now, she had to say it now-but she could barely speak because of those familiar skeining sensations unfurling inside her and causing instant fuck me now feelings…

Don't stop, don't stop…

He had to stop.

"Jeremy…!"

THUMP THUMP THUMP…

"Regina!"

"Oh, God-Father!" She made to cover her breast, but Jeremy would not let her go.

"Shhh…"

"Regina, are you there? Wake up! I have news… the most incredible news…"

"Jeremy!" She pulled away from him. "I have to answer him."

"Answer me first."

"What?" She swung her legs off the bed and grabbed the first thing to hand and wrapped it around herself. "Answer you what?"

And then words didn't come so hard after all.

"Marry me."

"What?"

"REGINA! Hurry…"

"What? Jeremy-"

"Just say yes."

"Oh, my God. Just a minute, Father! Are you crazy?"

He pointed his penis at her. "Yes. Say yes."

"REGINA! I'm coming in."

"I'm coming."

"And I'll keep you coming," Jeremy whispered, "over and over and over…"

"Yes, Father, yes, yes, yes… I'm coming, I'm coming…" Oh, God, I'm coming….

She pulled open the door shakily, shielding Jeremy from view. "Such noise, Father. What's to do? It has to be well before nine o'clock."

"Ha! This. Look at this." Reginald thrust an envelope in her hand which had a notation written on it. For Regina… from Ancilla. I've gone and married Mr. Raulton. See note.

"Oh, my God." Regina ripped open the envelope and pulled out Ancilla's note, scanned it, and then read it out loud.

Dear Regina, I hope you can forgive me; this made the most sense. I am in want of a husband; he is in need of a wife whose interests coincide with his own, but who is willing in the course of events to let him. lead his private life. My nature is such that I will be content to manage his estate and to be called his wife. We will be married by special license by the time you read this, and he is vastly relieved to both be finished with the marriage mart and to reap his reward at the expense of the betting Books. As am I.

Your friend, Ancilla.

She was appalled.

"I'm speechless," she said finally.

"It's over," Reginald crowed jubilantly. "Ancilla has made London safe for all womanhood. We owe her a debt of gratitude. You're not angry?"

"I?" Shocked was more like it. And feeling not a little like the carpet had been pulled out from under her after she had gone through such soul-searching to gird herself to accept him.

But now she had accepted Jeremy-or had she? What had just happened in there?

"No. I'm happy for her. She will run him like a top, despite what she says in her letter, and it will be a better bargain for her than for him. And maybe she will bring him to heel in the process. So, Father…" She handed him the letter and made to close the door.

"Oh. Oh, of course." He turned to go, and then turned back. "By the way, is that Jeremy in there with you?"

"WHAT?"

"My dear girl, I'm no greengull. Jeremy-you must marry her now."

"And so I will," Jeremy called back, with no compunction, no sense of her feelings.

"Excellent. It's what I had planned from the start. Everything has worked out right and tight."

Regina sagged against the door. "What you-planned?"

"My dear girl-a knight to rescue you, orchestrated from the moment I overheard your abominable desire to engage Mr. Raulton. Of course, I had thought Jeremy was a man to practice courtly love… but-ah, one can't expect everything, can one? Post the banns as soon as ever you can. I can't countenance what has been going on in my very own house for much longer. Congratulations, my dear. Jeremy is everything I could want for you in a husband."

Husband? Husband? Oh, God. Husband!

She slammed the door and whirled around to find Jeremy sitting upright, all of him upright. "I am top over tails here. What is going on?"

"Ancilla has run off with Mr. Raulton. I have asked you to marry me, and your father planned the whole from the start. It's perfectly clear. You were always destined to be mine. You are mine. Be mine…"

"You don't…"

"I do."

"You don't have to. Not here, not now. You don't have to marry me." She had to say it, and she held her breath. He couldn't want marriage now, not after everything she had given him. He didn't need to marry her. But she needed desperately to marry him.

"I do. You do. You know you do."

She was on the thin line, the sharpest edge. Everything would end here, and begin, did she say yes.

He didn't move; he didn't importune. This was the most delicate balance, between her need and her desire. His desire and his need. And there was nothing to stand between them now.