Catherine Gayle - One Lonely Night

Vivian rolled over and tried to block out the sounds coming from the suite next to hers. It proved to be far from an easy task she’d set for herself.

The walls of Quinton Abbey were quite thick. She’d never had this problem before while here, but tonight she’d left her window to allow some of the cool, summer air to come into her chamber. Apparently this couple, whoever they were, had done the same and were rather enjoying themselves.

Their moans and groans were making it impossible for Vivi to sleep. She rolled over, put her pillow over her ears, and wondered what it would be like to enjoy the marriage bed with quite such vigor.

Her husband, Lord Tucker Flynn, had been a very caring lover during the whole of their six month marriage. He was always so gentle with her, so sweet. And it was perfectly lovely when they coupled-pleasurable, even, despite the dire warnings Vivi’s mother had given her the night before her wedding. But there had never been anything between them that would cause such…such unbridled enthusiasm, for lack of a better term.

The amorous activity of her neighbors had Vivi in quite a state, indeed. Hot. Tingling. Achy with a need she couldn’t explain.

She was half tempted to knock at Tucker’s door for relief, but she doubted their typical lovemaking would provide much of a reprieve from her current state of affairs.

When the woman’s erotic scream broke through Vivian’s pillow and a flood of wetness surged straight between her legs, there was no doubt in her mind any longer. Nothing Tucker would ever dream of doing with her could possibly satisfy the raging need currently building inside her.

Vivi tossed the pillow aside. It was useless. Besides, the man was now groaning again. Perhaps they were finished for the night. She could hope.

Indeed, the activity next to her soon seemed to come to a close. No more thumping and bumping. No more rhythmic, insensible moans. Just quiet. Blessed, blissful quiet.

Thank goodness.

But Vivi was still so overly warm, she couldn’t possibly get to sleep. After laying there, trying to do so but failing miserably, she tossed back the counterpane and walked out onto the portico just outside her room, drawing the door almost to a close behind her. The nighttime air felt good on her skin. She lifted her hot, sticky mane of curls off the back of her neck and let the breeze cool her down, closing her eyes to enjoy the sensation more fully.

A light wind kicked up and fluttered over her thin nightrail, tickling against the sensitive flesh underneath. She wrapped her arms over her chest and looked out at the grounds below her to the sound of muted voices in the next room. Her room was directly over the rose gardens, which almost glimmered in the bright light of the moon tonight.

The muffled talk turned to a woman’s gasp, and then they were out on the portico next to her. Vivi dashed quickly behind a potted fern and pinched her eyes closed. She’d die of mortification if they knew she’d been privy to their encounters tonight, and she couldn’t get back inside her room without alerting them to her presence.

Their amorous pursuits were soon underway again. “Is this good, love? Is this what you wanted?” the strained, masculine voice asked. Was that Lord Lipscombe? It certainly sounded like him. Vivi was tempted to peek, just to see for certain.

But no. She couldn’t.

She shouldn’t.

But in the end, she couldn’t resist. Moving her head just so, she could see through the fronds of the fern. And it was most decidedly Lord and Lady Lipscombe on the portico next to her. Good Lord, but he was a big man. He looked even larger in the nude.

The viscount had his wife bent over the railing, entering her from behind. Vivi’s eyes widened at the thought of Tucker doing such a thing to her. Her pulse raced and suddenly, she found it difficult to take a deep breath.

Then Lord Lipscombe guided his wife’s hand to her mound and had her touching herself while he continued thrusting into her. His hands moved to her full breasts and he pinched her nipples. Vivi gasped as her own breasts suddenly felt strangely heavy and needy. Thankfully, Lady Lipscombe was currently in the midst of making far more noise than she had, yet again. They didn’t notice her.

She moved ever-so-slightly closer to them, careful not to disturb anything. Lord Lipscombe kept molding and tugging at his wife’s breasts. Vivi’s hands went to her own, pinching her extremely taut, swollen nipples through the sheer fabric of her nightrail. It was nothing short of miraculous that she didn’t moan aloud her relief. Her pulse roared as one hand moved lower, lifting the hem of her gown and delving inside to her most secret place.

“ I’m calling it a night, Holbrook,” Lord Tucker Flynn said, pushing his cards across the table as he shoved his chair back from the table. “You’ll have to find some other dunce to cheat the rest of the night.”

The earl looked around the darkened room at the stragglers still hanging about. At this late hour, few remained, save those gentlemen such as Holbrook (if he could truly be called that) who had no wife to join above stairs. Well, truth be told, Holbrook had a wife. Just not one above stairs.

The rest of them, in general, were unmarried. Tucker and Viscount Raynesford, however, were exceptions to that general rule.

“ Raynesford,” Holbrook called out, “you look like a man eager to lose some coin to my superior skill. Take over for Flynn.”

The viscount didn’t even bother to look up from his book on horse breeding. “Not tonight. You’d do better trying my brother.” His voice was a slow drawl as he turned the page. “But you’d have to return to London to do that.”

Holbrook cursed beneath his breath then scoured about for someone else to swindle. Tucker could do nothing but chuckle and shake his head as he left the undercroft and headed up the stairs. Why would a libertine such as Holbrook even agree to come to such a house party? He would be bored to tears in no time, and there were no lightskirts about for him to chase after.

Luckily, Tucker had no intention of chasing after anyone’s skirts, save those of his wife. He and Vivian had been married now for about half a year. He’d attempted to slowly woo his bride, gradually teaching her the seductive arts. She’d been a willing and ready student, to this point, and very responsive even if a bit inhibited. But he’d not wanted to take things too far, too soon. The last thing he needed was for Vivi to scare off and bar him from her bed as his sister-in-law had done with his brother. Gideon had told him horror stories of months spent trying to woo his wife again after he’d asked too much of her in the early stages of their marriage.

Perhaps this little visit to Quinton Abbey was exactly what Tucker needed to move things to the next step with Vivi. A change in locale might encourage her to be more experimental, more adventurous.

That’s what he’d been hoping for, at least, when he accepted the invitation.

Tucker rounded the final corner in the spiraling maze of hallways, then opened the door to the suite he and Vivi shared. No light filtered beneath the doorway to her chamber. She must have already gone to bed.

He knocked lightly. No response. Tucker knocked again, a bit louder this time. Still nothing. Was she already asleep? He hadn’t intended to stay away from her so late.

Blast Holbrook. The lecher had distracted him from his purpose.

Still, there were some very intriguing ways he could wake his wife.

Tucker grinned at the images racing through his mind and pushed Vivi’s door open. Her bedclothes were rumpled and tossed about, and a pillow lay on the floor near a chintz armchair, but Vivi was not in the room. The door leading out to her portico was cracked open. Perhaps she had stepped outside for a bit of air. Well, that gave him yet another interesting manner in which he could surprise her.