Whispered Music (London Fairy Tales #2)(57)
Author: Rachel Van Dyken

With a rip, her dress fell to the floor.

“Are you entirely sure you should mention God’s name in the same sentence you are using to explain how you plan to ravish your wife?”

Dominique chuckled as his lips met hers with a hot blaze of fire. “I don’t think he’ll mind, love…”

His wicked hands cupped her bottom and thrust her across the bed as he lay out on top of her and plunged his hands into her bodice and continued ruining all the clothing she had so carefully put on earlier that morning when she had nothing more to do then carefully choose her dress and wait.

“No.” Dominique growled when Isabelle grasped the tattered clothing in her hands. “I’ll buy you more. But for now, I’m going to lose myself in you. I’m going to ravish you. Lay claim to you, and most likely cause great scandal in this house.”

“Scandal?” Oh heavens! How was she to concentrate when his hands were doing such wicked things?

“Yes.” His hands moved higher, his kiss was deeper. And then he pulled back to look into her eyes. “For when you scream my name, over and over again—when you tell me how to please you, what feels good and what makes you go insane—it will be music to my ears. But I believe our guests may be utterly scandalized.”

“To be fair…” Isabelle was near panting, she just didn’t want him to stop. “They do know your reputation as a beast… so surely it won’t come as a shock.” His lips moved to her ear as he breathed into her neck and began nibbling on the sensitive part that drove her wild.

“So really,” he whispered. “I have a reputation to live up to. Now, let us make music.”

“Music?” Perhaps being married to a musician would be odd, but it would also be magical and… Isabelle never finished her thought. She was too busy screaming her husband’s name.

Epilogue

“My ears are actually bleeding,” Hunter said dryly as he sat at the breakfast table wishing for the third time that morning that someone would have done him the favor of an early death. Anything so he wouldn’t have to listen to Dominique’s sexual prowess in the bedroom.

It wasn’t doing anything for his appetite, and to be quite honest, it was deuced hard not to constantly think of enjoying the same blasted activity, what with her sitting across from him.

At yet another loud noise from the upstairs, Stefan cleared his throat. “Would someone please pass the sugar?”

Rosalind burst out laughing. “I believe it’s been passed, and passed, and p—”

Stefan glared at his wife. “There are unmarried women at the table, cease from your vulgarity and—”

Rosalind stretched her arms above her head. “Do you know? I feel quite sleepy. I think I shall retire for an early morning nap.”

“Yes.” Stefan nodded seriously. “Wouldn’t want you getting fatigued. I’ll just, er, join you then. After all, you look much too sleepy to climb those stairs on your own, wouldn’t want you to take a tumble.”

Tea spewed out of Hunter’s mouth. “Apologies.” He wasn’t that sorry. After all, they did just say "tumble" and Stefan looked ready to ravish his wife on the table where Hunter was trying to break his fast. He needed to get away from this place before he challenged himself to a duel.

Stefan and Rosalind left in quite a hurry for being so tired.

Hunter yawned, because truly he was fatigued. His eyes honestly just happened to fall on Gwen.

“Don’t even think about it.” She glared.

“I have no idea what you mean.” But he kind of did. Was it so wrong to want her writhing beneath him? After all, upon their first meeting they had—

“You know exactly what I mean,” she all but yelled, interrupting his glorious memory of her pale skin. “Eat your food, and wipe that ridiculous grin off your face.”

Never one to say no to a lady, Hunter did exactly as he was told, though he did pay special attention to the way he held his goblet in his hand, and how he closed his eyes in ecstasy when he took a bite of eggs.

Truthfully, he was having a devil of a time not jumping across the table. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d felt this tempted.

Gwen cleared her throat. He looked up.

She dropped a piece of jam on her chest. Purposefully. Her eyes, innocent and wide, looked shocked. And then she grinned, took her ungloved hand and wiped the jam with her finger, slowly dipping it into her mouth. A moan escaped her lips as she closed her eyes.

Lust pounded through Hunter. With a jolt he stood up, with every intention on demanding she stop teasing him, though to be fair, he had deserved it.

But she beat him to the task, meeting him in the middle of the room. She sidestepped him and left.

Hunter swore and glared at her empty seat, as well as the jam that sat next to her plate.

He would never look at jam the same way again. Ever.

****

Dominique exhaled as Isabelle giggled beneath him. Their limbs were tangled.

“I believe we’ve scandalized the entire countryside.” Isabelle sighed.

“To the devil with them all,” Dominique growled. “I love you, my beauty.”

“And I you,” she answered.

They lay in silence for a few minutes before Isabelle asked, “What do you hear now?”

Dominique chuckled. “The most beautiful music I’ve ever heard in my existence.”

“Can you sing it to me?”

Dominique kissed her cheek. “I’ll do better. I’ll show you.”

They quickly dressed and tiptoed down to the music room.

Dominique walked to the piano, the instrument that had been a part of him his entire life, took a seat at the ivory keys, and began to play.

It was a slow melody at first that turned into a ferocious blend of the most beautiful song he had ever played. The music was no longer haunting but life-altering, so beautiful that he knew it had to be a representation of the completeness he felt.

When he was finished, he turned to his wife.

Apparently, all he was good for was making people cry when he played. A little defeated, he walked to her side and pulled her into his arms. “I’m sorry it made you sad.” Could he do nothing right?

“I’m not sad.” Isabelle sniffled. “I’ve just never heard anything so beautiful! What’s it called?”

“Isabelle.”

He didn’t think it possible, but she cried harder.

He kissed her hair. “It is what I hear with every breath you take, every sigh that escapes your lips, every little moment I share with you.”