Chapter 6: The Library

After dinner the Dowager and Kitty settled to piquet across the hall with the door open and the sherry between them.

I told them I was going to find my husband.

"Take your time," said the Dowager, without looking up. "We shall be playing for hours."

Kitty giggled, and was told to concentrate.

I found Gervase in the library with his sleeves rolled, bent over my uncle's letter and a pen.

He had been writing to his solicitor for an hour.

His waistcoat was undone and his hair had fallen across his forehead, and there was ink on his thumb.

"You should not be here," he said, not looking up. "I've an enemy to destroy."

"Brayne can wait."

I turned the key in the door.

He raised his head.

"Mina."

"I've been thinking about the park," I said, "for six hours."

His eyes went to the key, and to me, and the pen dropped.

I crossed the carpet and took him by the shirt front and walked him backward until his hips hit the edge of the great desk.

"The Dowager is across the hall," he said hoarsely.

"Then you'd better be quiet."

I knelt.

I had read about this too, in the same book.

I had thought about it in the carriage with his fingers in my glove.

My heart pounded as I unbuttoned his breeches and took him out.

He was already hard.

He was warm and heavy in my hand, and a bead of wet shone at the tip, and I looked up at him.

"Tell me what to do," I said.

"Mina, you needn't."

"Tell me.

"Exactly."

He drew a long unsteady breath.

"Use your tongue first," he said. "Just the tip. Lick me there."

I did.

He tasted salt and clean skin, and his whole body jerked.

"Good," he said. "Oh, that's good. Again."

"Like this?"

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