The Defiant Wife (The Three Mrs #2) - Jess Michaels Page 0,51

the way she relaxed against him. Like a war was over and she had surrendered. Their kiss softened, her fingers dragged into his hair. He cupped her hips and rocked her closer as she wrapped her legs around his bare hips.

He wanted to stay like this forever. This was freedom, these stolen moments with her. He didn’t want to lose that or lose her. Because he loved her. That wasn’t a shock to him. He’d known it for some time, even if he hadn’t dared label it. But holding her now, feeling her breath quicken as he dragged his mouth down her throat, he couldn’t deny the words anymore.

He loved her. He would always love her. It was just that, as had so often been true in his life, what he wanted didn’t matter. That burned like a brand against his skin, but he ignored the searing pain. It was worth it to be with her again. But since it might be the last time, he needed to make it last. Needed to make it something neither of them would ever forget. Needed to make it something that could sustain him when everything became bleak again in London.

And so he tasted her, feasted on her skin as he somehow managed to maneuver them both onto the bed together. He dragged his mouth to her throat, sucking on the spot where her shoulder and neck met. She flexed her fingers against his back as she let out a shuddering sigh of pleasure.

He dragged his lips lower, savoring the slight saltiness of her skin as he crested over her breast and rolled his tongue around her nipple. When she arched her back and let out a gasp of pleasure, his cock went fully hard. Watching her shatter was the ultimate aphrodisiac—he was addicted to it, to her, to what happened when they came together.

He swirled his tongue over and over, sucking and soothing as she writhed. As he did so, he let his hand travel lower, down the apex of her body, until he settled it between her trembling legs. She opened them, ready and wet and willing as he stroked his fingers across her heat. He pressed one inside, reveling in the flex of her tight body around him, in the way she made a garbled sound of wordless pleasure.

He fucked her with his finger, then two, pressing his thumb to her clitoris as he kept teasing her breasts, back and forth. Her hips lifted, her body clenched in time to his thrusts and he felt the slick heat of her increase as she ground toward release. He wanted it. He wanted to watch her as she found it. When she did, it didn’t disappoint. Her back arched hard, her mouth fell open and she panted out a series of soft moans as her sheath rippled around his fingers. He drew out her orgasm as long as he could, and then he pulled his fingers free and licked them clean as he smiled down at her.

Her pupils dilated further and she shook her head. “I think you only pretend at being proper, my lord.”

He smiled at the quip. “Then only you know my true self.”

He’d meant it as a flippant reply, but the moment the words were out of his mouth, the air in the room shifted. She softened a fraction, and he bent his head. That was true, of course. He had shown so much more of himself to her than he’d ever allowed with any other person.

But he didn’t want tonight to be about what they couldn’t have, what they’d soon lose. He wanted it to be a celebration of what they shared. So he pushed aside the struggle in his heart and bent his head to claim her lips again.

“Let it be this,” he whispered, and she nodded. “What do you want next?”

She pulled back slightly and stared up at him in the firelight. “What do I want next?”

“If you could have whatever you wanted from me tonight, what would you want next?” he clarified as he traced the line of her jaw with his fingertips. “I am yours to command.”

She sat up on her elbows and tilted her head, searching his face with a focused intent. “I’m still shaking from what you just did,” she said as she touched him. Not a touch with sensual drive, though any time her hands were on him was certainly that, but gentle. She traced his bare bicep, then threaded her