PAINTING PENELOPE Page 3

  He planted tantalizing kisses on her neck and jaw line before possessing her mouth. She tasted her own secretions on his tongue, arousing her even more. She let her hands wander over his body, enjoying the texture of his skin. As her exploration wandered further toward his tight bum, he groaned into her mouth.

  “I cannot take much more of this torture, Penny. I need to be inside you now.”

  She smiled at him. “Then charge ahead, captain.”

  He chuckled as he positioned himself between her legs and began easing the tip of his shaft into her body. She arched her hips to meet him, amazed at how he filled her. Then he thrust forward and she gasped.

  “Are you all right, love?”

  She wrapped her legs around his waist. “I’m fine, Logan. Don’t stop.”

  His thrusts increased in speed and intensity, flooding her whole body with desire. She began to vibrate with liquid fire, rising to an explosion of pure pleasure. From a distance, she was aware of him calling her name as he made one final thrust then collapsed on top of her.

  When her vision cleared, she stroked his head resting on her chest and let out a satisfied sigh. “That was marvelous. What a lovely secret this will be.”

  A lovely secret.

  Logan eased off Penny who had fallen into a light doze. He frowned at the ceiling. He didn’t want to keep their liaison a secret. He wanted to shout to the world that Penelope Porter was his, all his, only his.

  He wanted to drag her to the nearest dressmaker and order a new wardrobe to replace the shabby, ill-fitting gowns she wore. And that horrid cloak. The day he’d escorted her home, she’d resembled a brown wren in a flock of parrots. But if he were to even mention buying her new clothing… He’d done so for his other models; in fact they’d expected it. But Penny was different from the other females he’d known intimately. Respectable, proud and independent.

  Turning on his side, he trailed one hand over her tantalizing, man-pleasing curves. Her breasts were magnificent, full and ripe, her hips wide and Rubenesque. Perfect for child bearing.

  That thought pulled him up short. Good gad, he hadn’t fallen in love with her, had he? No, of course not. But he had come to admire her, and not just in the last few minutes as he’d possessed her sweet body. It had happened slowly over the last few months, as he’d watched her, unobserved, tending the sick and wounded in the hospital tent, always with a ready smile for anyone who needed her. And never too busy to speak or read to the children who were invariably drawn to her.

  He loved her good nature, but also her spirit, her temper. How magnificently angry she’d been when she first came to his rooms. A chuckle escaped his lips and her eyes opened.

  “Sorry, love, didn’t mean to wake you.”

  She smiled, her lips curving in the way he adored. “What is so amusing?”

  “You are.”

  She arched a brow. “Oh?”

  “I was just remembering how angry you were when I first suggested you pose in the nude.”

  Her smile faded. “Perhaps I should have remained angry. Did you intend to seduce me all along?”

  “No,” he denied. “Well, I wanted to, but my intentions were honorable.”

  She flashed him a skeptical look and he ran a hand through his hair. “Honestly, my first thought was to help you out. Your father doesn’t take good enough care of you.”

  “He does his best.”

  Logan shook his head. “That’s one of the things I admire about you, Penny. Your loyalty. But if you were in my keeping, I wouldn’t fritter away my money at the gaming tables.”

  She sat up, grabbing for the sheet to cover herself. “Well, as I am not ‘in your keeping’ and never will be—”

  He put a hand on her arm. “Don’t be angry, Penny. I just meant that you deserve a better life.”

  She sighed heavily. “We must live the life we lead. Besides, you’re a fine one to talk. I wouldn’t be in this predicament if you hadn’t gambled with Papa and won all his money.”

  Logan’s brows shot up. “Is that what he told you?” If so, the old man was more of a blackguard than he’d thought.

  “He said he owed you two thousand pounds.”

  “Did he say I won it from him?”

  She frowned. “No, not in those exact words. Frankly, it surprised me, as I had not thought you to be one of his usual cronies.”

  “Neither am I.” Logan reached for her hand. “Penny, I bought up your father’s vowels. He owed so many officers and some were becoming quite impatient.”

  “But why?”

  He pulled her hand to his lips and kissed it. “I did it for you, love. Don’t you dream of a better life?”

  She sighed. “Dreams are for fools.”

  “Are they?” He pulled her closer. “I’ve been dreaming about kissing you for months now.”

  Parting her lips in mute invitation, she let him familiarize himself with the slick, welcoming recesses of her mouth. He liked the textures, the juices, the spices of her. Aside from his art, the pleasuring of women was his main interest, and Penny was a gift he’d never expected. One he intended to enjoy for as long as she let him.

  Penny felt passion rise in her like a bonfire leaping into the dark of night. It clouded her brain, stifled her misgivings. She let her fingers play with his soft curls and stroke the smooth skin of his back. Logan’s prolonged kiss left her lightheaded, and when he finally broke away, she gulped in a shuddering breath.

  He smiled ruefully. “We had better stop for today. You must be sore.”

  “Not really.” She squirmed, causing him to groan.

  He frowned. “I thought the first time was usually painful.”

  “Oh, well… ” She drew a deep breath and decided to tell the truth. “It wasn’t my first time.”

  His brows shot up in surprise.

  “I was once betrothed, you know.”

  The look of surprise turned to amazement. “Walter? Old, stiff-rumped Walter? I never would have believed it. Guess he wasn’t as tight-arsed as I thought.”

  All desire fled at the mention of her former fiancé. She pushed at his shoulders. “Let me up.”

  He moved off her, and she jumped up and reached for her clothes.

  Logan touched her arm from behind. “I’m sorry, Penny. I did not mean to speak ill of the honored dead.”

  She stilled. “I know.”

  He put his arms around her, pulling her back to lean against his chest. “I was just surprised, but I shouldn’t be. Walter must have found you as irresistible as I do.” He kissed the side of her neck and ran his tongue down to her shoulder as his hands moved up to caress her breasts, tease her hardening nipples. She was acutely aware of the hardness of his shaft pressed against her. She turned, pressing herself to him, rubbing her sensitized nipples against his hairy chest.

  “You make me crazy, Logan. What am I going to do when I’m alone again?”

  “Hush, love. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Not for a while,” she agreed. “But the army won’t be in winter quarters forever, and then we’ll be separated. I’ll have memories to warm me, but…”

  “Ah,” he said. “Do you know how to pleasure yourself, Penny?”

  An embarrassed flush heated her cheeks. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Then let me show you how.”

  He led her to the mirror, pulled her hair back and stood behind her. Taking her wrists, he guided her hands to her breasts. “Touch yourself.”

  She did, her nipples leaping to attention.

  “Good, now touch lower, between your legs.”

  She tried to pull away. “I couldn’t.”

  He smiled. “Why not?” He moved his hand down and parted the auburn curls to stroke her sensitive flesh. Involuntary tremors of arousal coiled inside her. “Try it,” he urged.

  Overcoming her embarrassment, she moved her fingers against the slick flesh, enjoying the sensations.

  He caressed her nipples, rubbing and tweaking them gent
ly while she experimented with self-touch. When her finger touched just the right spot, she moaned aloud with erotic pleasure.

  Turning, she pushed him back toward the cot. “I want to finish with you inside me.”

  He laughed. “Your wish is my command, my lady.”

  He sat on the bed and she followed, kneeling to straddle his lap.

  She gasped as he kissed her nipples, rousing a melting need in her. His hands grasped her waist, lifting her slightly. He brushed the tip of his shaft against her opening then slowly eased her down until he was inside her. Her hair flowed around them, teasing already heated skin.

  Hands on her hips, he guided her in moving slowly up and down. She soon quickened the pace, enjoying the feeling of being in control.

  He drew her mouth to his in a wet, searching kiss. Desire spiraled higher and higher. When she thought she could take no more, he touched that special spot and the world fragmented.

  His own release followed, leaving them both clinging to each other in dazed surrender.

  She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her face pressed to his. “Oh, Logan, that was the best ride I’ve ever had.”

  He chuckled. “Me, too, love. Me, too.”

  When reason returned, Penny noticed the diminished light in the room. “Oh, no. What time is it?”

  Logan glanced out the window where the sun was about to set and groaned. “I should’ve had you home hours ago.”

  Standing on nerveless legs, Penny reached for her shift. He helped her drop it over her head and tied the strings. Picking up her stockings, she sat on the cot.

  Logan took one out of her hand and knelt to slowly slip it on her foot and up her calf. The skin of her legs prickled under his touch.

  “At this rate, it’ll be dark before I get home,” she muttered.

  He grinned cheekily and repeated his actions with her other leg.

  A loud knock on the door caused her to jump. “Who can that be?”

  “Penny, are you in there?” a gruff voice demanded.

  “Papa,” she exclaimed. “Oh, hand me my dress quickly.”

  The door opened with a bang and her father marched in. When he saw her in her shift with the still-naked Logan, a roar burst from his lips. “You blackguard!”

  Her father marched up to Logan and pounded a fist into his face.

  “No, Papa,” Penny screamed, grabbing for his arm before he could land another blow.

  He shook her off, removed his glove and struck Logan across the face with it. “Name your second, man.”

  Penny moaned. “No, Papa, not a duel.”

  Logan grimaced and rubbed his reddened face. “I agree, sir. A duel between us would fuel too many rumors. You must think of your daughter’s reputation.”

  “I must…” her father sputtered. “Oh, that is rich, coming from the man who ruined her.”

  Penny blinked back tears at the word. What had she been thinking to let Logan love her? She had known the consequences of her behavior and still been unable to stop herself.

  “There is an obvious solution.” Logan stepped toward Penny and got down on one knee. Taking her hand, he looked up at her, a tender expression on his face. “Miss Porter, will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

  Penny gaped at the man at her feet, naked as the day he was born with his family jewels hanging down for all the world to see. Humor bubbled up from inside her and she couldn’t stop the giggle that burst from her throat.

  Logan’s expression changed to one of hurt. He jumped to his feet. “If you feel that way…”

  “No,” she said through her giggles. “I didn’t mean to laugh. But I never expected to receive a proposal of marriage from a naked man.”

  Logan looked down at himself. “Bloody hell.” He ran for his pants and pulled them on. Then he took her hands again. “Well, Penny, what do you think? Shall we make a match of it?”

  She glanced at her father then back to Logan. “I don’t suppose we have much choice in the matter. But I do have one condition.”

  “Anything,” he agreed.

  “From now on, I’m your only model.”

  His face split into a grin. “Done.”

  “Are you sure that will wash off?” Penny asked, glancing over her shoulder at her new husband who wielded paint and brush on her bare backside.

  “It’s just henna, not oil paint,” he replied. “Stop squirming.”

  “It tickles,” she complained, not very seriously. In truth, she was bored. She’d been lying on a pallet on the floor for nearly an hour with Logan sprawled between her outstretched legs while he painted her bum.

  “There…all done,” he announced, moving off her.

  “What is it?”

  He stood and helped her up. “You are now an official daughter of the regiment.”

  Penny backed up to the mirror and looked over her shoulder to see the emblem of the Connaught Rangers, the Irish harp in the center, emblazoned on her arse. She smiled. Life with Logan Wilding was anything but dull. How much her life had changed in the last few weeks.

  She walked up to her husband who was cleaning his brushes and put her arms around him. “Are you sorry you had to marry me?”

  He lay down his brush and turned to take her in his arms. “No, of course not. Are you?”

  “No. But preventing a ruined reputation isn’t much basis for a marriage.” She sighed. “I had always hoped to marry a man who could love me.”

  He smiled tenderly. “Penny, I do love you. I think I’ve been in love with you for months now, but didn’t know it.”

  His words warmed her heart just as the sensual look on his face heated her body. Slowly, she caressed his chest, his stomach, then slid one hand down to cup his rod. It sprang to attention.

  He groaned and removed her hand. “Come to bed, wife.”

  Wife. That was a word she liked. Who would have thought that the day she’d agreed to pose nude for Logan Wilding would turn out to be the luckiest day of her life?

  Lyndi Lamont

  Lyndi Lamont is the racy alter ego of author Linda McLaughlin, who writes historical and Regency Romance. Painting Penelope is her first published short story, but she hopes to pen more.

  You can write to her at: lyndilamont@sbcglobal.net

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