Vicar's Virgin Page 3

  With a sigh, Georgina climbed off the bed, noting the soreness in the place where he’d been inside her as she walked across to the dresser to wash herself.

  ****

  Georgina took her new role in life seriously. She was now the wife of the vicar, and her first duty was to him and the people of his parish. Since the Little Season was almost over with fox hunting due to begin very soon, most of the Ton had already left Town or were preparing to leave. This meant she was unable to escort Theodora to the usual round of balls, soirees, and musicales as few parties were still being held. Wednesdays they were at home to morning callers, however, and those of her friends and acquaintances still in Town made sure to visit the vicarage then and these occasions were full of lively conversation. Mr. Ridley always stayed for an hour to talk with their guests, which pleased Georgina enormously as many husbands attended such occasions only on sufferance.

  The senior Mrs. Ridley, her mama-in-law, capably managed the large household, so there was little Georgina needed to do in that sphere. Therefore she turned her attention to learning the names and history of all the staff, then of all the parishioners.

  “I don’t know how you can manage to remember all the names so quickly,” said Theodora one afternoon as the three ladies sat sewing together.

  “I must. I can’t expect the people to tell me their names week after week. Besides, it’s not hard to remember who is ill or who is looking for employment. The difficult part is connecting the families together. Which families are related to whom.” She sighed, mentally chanting the lineage of one particularly complicated family tree as she spoke.

  Theodora just looked at her and shook her head, smiling.

  The one thing Georgina really wanted to talk about and couldn’t was that Mr. Ridley had not been back to her bed since their wedding night. It had been less than two weeks, but she wanted him to come to her. She wanted to hold him in her arms, to kiss him and be kissed. To feel his thing—his cock—inside her again, and to have him touch her in her most secret place and give her that wonderful feeling once more.

  On several different nights, when she was undressed, she’d picked up her small looking glass to see where that place was and why it felt so nice to be touched there. But each time, she’d put the hand mirror down again, worried he might come into her room and be shocked at her wanton behavior. She also fretted that she might already have disgusted him by the way she’d stroked his bare skin. But he’d touched her, so surely she had not behaved too outrageously.

  She could hear Barnabas moving around in his room at night and laid silently in her bed listening for him, hoping he would open the connecting door and come in, even to bid her good night. But he hadn’t. Each night she put on one of her new silk and lace bed gowns wishing for him to join her. I must practice patience, she told herself, no matter how difficult it might be to achieve it.

  ****

  Barnabas had his own problems. His dick was harder than a spike whenever she was near him, and the current fashion for tight breeches did not help him keep it under control. She was calm and quiet, her chestnut hair a particularly pretty shade, and her blue eyes were like the sky on a sunny summer day. Her skin had felt so soft when he’d touched her, and she always smelled good, sweet and womanly, like the potpourri and flowers she kept in her rooms.

  Her cunny had been so tight. When he’d broken her maidenhood and slammed inside, she’d gripped him so hard it had taken every bit of control not to come right then. Hot, wet, and welcoming. There were no better words to describe her cunny, and he wanted to be inside her again. Hadn’t even wanted to pull out of her when he’d finished. But she’d been a virgin, and even though she hadn’t complained, he had hurt her and had to let her heal. But surely she was healed by now. When his horse had thrown him and he’d gashed his leg open, it had healed in about ten days. Of course she was hurt in a much more tender place than a leg, but surely he could go to her bed again now. The waiting was killing him. The relief his hand gave him was a very temporary thing and nowhere near as wonderful as being inside her. Tonight. He’d go to her tonight, and if she seemed unwilling, he’d simply bid her goodnight and leave again.

  Relieved at having made the decision, he got out his notes for his homily for Sunday. Somehow his Bible just kept opening to Song of Solomon and he had to stop reading those words of love and turn his attention to the correct reading for the week.

  ****

  Emmy finished brushing her hair and left the room. Georgina was wearing a new pale yellow silk and lace bed gown from Madame Giselle. The connecting door was shut, but she’d heard Mr. Ridley come upstairs some minutes ago.

  She needed to talk to him about their plans for Christmas. Of course, he would hold a special service at midnight on Christmas Eve, but was she to give gifts on Boxing Day? Should she decorate the house and church with greenery? Some people considered it pagan but others thought it a suitable celebration of Christ’s birth. Then there was the question of whether they would all be going to Kingsdene after Christmas to spend time with her family. There was still so much about him she didn’t know, and she didn’t like to be always questioning his mother and sister. That didn’t seem socially acceptable.

  But knocking on the connecting door could be construed as overstepping the bounds of polite behavior. A wife did not go to her husband. It was his right to come to her, not the other way around. Besides, the Christmas planning issue wasn’t urgent. She could speak to him about it tomorrow.

  She was so lost in her thoughts she almost missed the soft knock on the door. She turned around, a smile on her face to greet him. He was wearing the wine-red robe again, but this time he’d taken his shirt off as well as his cravat. His chest was magnificent, the bits of it she could see in the gap where the robe didn’t quite cover him.

  His gaze was fixed on the skin above her breasts where the pale orbs peeped out of the froth of lace. Ha! So he likes looking at my skin as much as I want to stare at his.

  She recognized the heat in his gaze as lust and knew he wanted her. Well she wanted him too, so very much. She was surprised to feel dampness drip onto her inner thighs. Even my body is demanding his cock in it, she thought, astonished.

  Georgina stood up and walked toward him. She looked down at his robe and it did seem to be poking out somewhat in front. Her heart pounded with joy. He wanted her. He’d come to her and the lust in his eyes and growth in his cock meant that tonight he would take her to bed again. Mayhap let her touch him. But what if my touching him is why he’s stayed away from me so long? What if my response repulses him? It’s not very ladylike. Nothing about the bed is. I will ask him. I need to know. I shall ask.

  Barnabas stood so close to her his body was almost touching hers. With gentle fingers, he brushed her hair to the side and kissed the tops of her breasts. “Another beautiful gown, my dear. But once again I must take it off. Your skin is even more beautiful. So fragrant and soft.”

  Willingly she leaned into his kisses, and when he lifted her breast from the gown and sucked the nipple into his mouth, she wantonly rested her whole body against his, reveling in his hardness and in the feel of his cock firmly pressed into her belly.

  More liquid seeped from her private place—would she ever have the courage to ask him if it too had a name? Or would that shock him? How little she knew him. How much she wanted to know everything about him. And even more how to please him. Instinctively she knew pleasing him in bed would give her great pleasure too.

  Begin as you mean to go on, she ordered herself. Taking a deep breath she asked, hesitantly, “May I touch you?”

  He seemed surprised by her request but not annoyed. Certainly he didn’t frown at her, merely saying, “Of course, my dear.”

  Gratefully she slid her hands under his dressing robe, loving the hard feel of his muscles, the strength in the long line of his back, the way his body, so very broad at the shoulders, tapered to his waist and even farther to his hips.

  His hands became a
little rougher on her body, pulling her against him and pressing his cock into her belly as he held her hips tightly to him and pressed kisses all along her shoulders then her jaw line and finally her mouth.

  This kiss was intensely carnal, his tongue plunging into her mouth claiming every part of it as his, and she willingly accepted his touch. When they broke apart, he licked a line down her neck to her breasts, finally pulling her bed gown off over her head, as he’d said he would. Following suit, but moving slowly in case he objected to her actions, she brushed the sleeves of his dressing robe down his arms so she could see his chest as well as touch his back.

  He let go of her for a moment to undo the tie belt and shrug the garment off onto the floor, where it fell in a puddle on top of her gown. Then he slid down her body once again, gradually drawing closer and closer to the place that gave her such pleasure.

  Barnabas licked the line where Georgina’s leg joined her body then teased his tongue all around her privates, licking the line of her entry over and over before sucking that special place.

  “Oh, that feels so good. Has—has it got a name?” Georgina said, hoping he wouldn’t be disgusted by her being so forward as to ask.

  “This?” he teased sucking it into his mouth again and giving it a tiny bite before saying, “It’s your nubbin, and some say it’s the center of a woman’s pleasure.”

  “And the entryway, has that a name too?”

  “Men call it a cunny, but I’d advise you not to use either of those words in public.”

  She nodded. He didn’t seem cross but she thought perhaps she’d better not ask anymore questions this night. She’d learned a lot with the two she’d asked. Besides, she wanted him to come inside her again so she could hold him properly skin to skin. And mayhap learn what gave him the greatest pleasure.

  Almost as if he read her thoughts, he picked her up and carried her to the bed, blew out all the candles except the one on the table by the bed, took off his breeches, and lay beside her.

  For long moments he stared at her body, making her blush all over, before burying his face in her breasts and murmuring, “You’re so beautiful. I’m a very lucky man.”

  He pressed his muscular leg between her legs and half lay over her as he kissed his way up and down her body.

  Cautiously she slid her palms over his shoulders and down his back, once again rejoicing in the feeling of all that leashed strength and power as he kissed and licked her skin.

  Her touch seemed to please him, so she massaged the muscles in his back and shoulders and gradually worked her way down to his enticingly taut rear end. He was kissing all her body, so she took her courage in both hands and smoothed her palms over him there. He was so firm and solid, no loose and flabby flesh at all. He felt even better than her looked, and he looked very good!

  “I can’t wait any longer,” he whispered, widening her legs and laying between them.

  “I’m ready,” she replied.

  His fingers slid into her channel and he smiled at her. “You are indeed ready, my dear.” Then he guided his cock into her entryway—her cunny—and pressed inside.

  This time there was no pain, no discomfort, just the wonderful feeling of being stretched and filled. His cock seemed to totally possess her, making her walls expand to accommodate him and taking him so deep she almost expect him to pop out her bellybutton.

  Slowly he withdrew, then plunged in again, then withdrew, gradually moving faster and harder. This time she knew what to expect, was waiting for it and enjoying it, both the anticipation and the accomplishment. Once again her hips automatically moved with him, rising into his strokes, her feet flattening on the bed to give her legs more power to match his every thrust.

  His mouth traveled from hers to her breasts and back to her shoulders. She loved him touching her breasts. In his hands they seemed to swell, get heavier and ache with the need for more touching, more sucking.

  When he lifted off her to drive inside her harder and faster, she removed her palms from his back and rubbed them across his nipples, hoping he would enjoy it as much as she enjoyed him touching her. His little grunt seemed to indicate he did, and his nipples became hard little points instead of flat buttons.

  It was getting harder for her to experiment though, as the ball of pleasure inside her was growing. Hotter and higher than last time, but tonight it wouldn’t take her by surprise. Barnabas’ strokes were getting ragged and less rhythmical, and suddenly she understood he wanted to let go but was waiting for her to achieve her pleasure first. The thought that he’d expend so much effort to wait for her filled her with such joy the warm feeling burst over her, exploding deep inside her, making her belly clench hard on his cock and her legs shake. Heat rushed through her body and she gripped Barnabas’ shoulders, hanging on as waves of excitement rolled through her.

  “Ah,” he sighed and a blast of heat deep inside her cunny told her he had achieved his pleasure too.

  He thrust several times more, each one setting tiny shards of joy burning inside her, before laying flat on her body and resting his head on her shoulder. Happily she hugged him to her, reveling in the solid weight of him covering her and feeling his heart pounding hard against hers.

  “And the two shall become one.” Words said at her wedding ceremony that suddenly made sense. Here, right now, in bed, they were one flesh, joined so intimately together. Here she had seen some very important aspects of his character. He had been patient, helpful, waiting for her despite the pain it brought him. He was indeed a good man, a man she could respect, and maybe even come to love.

  Chapter Three

  “Mr. Ridley, I need to ask you what arrangements you wish me to make for Christmas.”

  Barnabas put down his knife and fork and looked up from The Times sitting open beside his teacup.

  “Christmas?”

  “Do you wish the church to be decorated with greenery and candles? Should we decorate the house? What about one of those new Christmas trees? Would you like one in the drawing room? Do you give the parishioners gifts on Boxing Day or just the servants? And what about—”

  “Wait. Wait. So many questions so early in the morning. Let me think a minute.”

  His head was ringing and he already knew his eggs would be too cold to eat long before he’d answered all these questions. What had caused her to go off like a firecracker? Was there some kind of shopping and decorating deadline only women understood?

  He held up one hand and ticked off his fingers as he spoke. “Greenery in the church and house, yes. Candles in the window embrasures and on the altar at church, not where children might touch them. If you want a tree, you may have one. In the past Mama and I have taken parcels to those in particular need, and each child is given a sweet treat, but not the rest of the parish. Does that answer all your questions?”

  He smiled at her. She looked so beautiful sitting opposite him at the breakfast table, her eyes so blue and her hair a shining chestnut crown all wrapped up in braids this morning. She was wearing a simple bronze morning dress, but that color looked particularly good on her. Although naked looked even better. He was so fortunate to have found a wife willing to learn about the pleasures of the bed. She’d brought him great joy there already, and she seemed very willing to experiment. His dick was getting hard just thinking about some other things they could try. He wanted to feel her mouth sucking his head deep into that warmth, and he could picture her sitting astride him riding him like a lady on her favorite stallion, her naked breasts bouncing as she moved.

  Reluctantly he dragged his mind back to her questions.

  “My family has invited us all to Kingsdene for Christmas and New Year. In fact, until it’s time for the twins to be taken to Eton and Amos to return to Oxford in mid-January. Obviously we won’t be able to go until after Boxing Day. That is, if you wish us to…”

  “I’m sure the Bishop will be happy to find another vicar to give the homily for two or three weeks. After all, we haven’t taken a wedding tour
, so he’ll be expecting me to ask for a few Sundays leave.” He looked at his Mama and Theodora. He hadn’t expected Theodora to say anything, but he was surprised his mama hadn’t offered an opinion on any of these things. “Mama?”

  “I think it’s an excellent idea to visit Kingsdene. It will get Theodora out into society a little more. Winter in Town can be very dull for a young woman. A country house party is just the thing. Theodora can also assist Georgina in the planning and decorating, and we will all go to deliver the gifts. Georgina might have some new ideas. Doubtless our gifts have become very predictable over the past few years. A little variety will be good.” Turning to Georgina she said, “Shall we plan to leave the day after Boxing Day?”

  “That sounds appropriate.”

  Barnabas sighed, looking at his cold and congealing eggs. “I’d best go pen a letter to the Bishop and let him know.”

  ****

  The three women threw themselves into their Christmas preparations. Mr. Ridley had a comfortable inheritance safely invested in funds and wasn’t dependent on his income as a vicar. Frances Ridley’s jointure was assured and she had inherited valuable jewels from her own mama, which would eventually become Theodora’s. Theodora’s dowry was set aside and her pin money ample for her simple needs. Simeon and Barnabas had agreed that the income from Georgina’s dowry was hers to spend as she wished. All of which meant that money was no handicap to their plans. They were able to enjoy the season, buy gifts, and decorate as much as they wished.

  “Do you usually give the servants new clothes or other types of gifts?” Georgina asked.

  “Since most of them don’t wear livery, we usually give the men fabric for two shirts and a pair of boots and the women a dress-length of sturdy material. Those with children always get a sweet treat for each child as well,” replied Frances Ridley.

  “I think the women should get a pair of boots each as well, but Barnabas has just continued doing everything the way Papa did it,” added Theodora.