Haunted by the Earl's Touch - By Ann Lethbridge Page 0,82
his breathing harsh and ragged.
‘Yes.’
‘There’s no going back,’ he warned. ‘No changing your mind in the morning. You will be my wife.’
‘Yes,’ she said, proudly, more confident than she had been in years. ‘Yes, I will be your wife.’
‘Thank God,’ he breathed and his arm shook as he held himself up on one hand as the other reached between them and guided his hot flesh into her. Large, intrusive, pushing and stretching, while his face contorted with effort as if he was holding back. And then she felt it. Something stopping him. Her maidenhead.
‘This might hurt,’ he warned gently.
She wanted to laugh at the thought of the pain she’d endured these past few weeks. How could this be that bad? She nodded instead.
He thrust forwards slowly with a low groan and held still.
A pinch of pain caught the breath in her throat. She froze. He froze. They stared at each other, not daring to move.
But the pain soon faded to a memory and all she could feel was him inside her body, large, hot, pulsing.
It felt good. She shifted her hips and felt a stab of pleasure.
He groaned and rocked inside her, small little movements at first, matching the pulse that beat inside them both. It felt delicious. Deliriously so. But not nearly enough.
And then he was kissing her mouth, suckling on her breasts and the tightening that had relaxed started all over again. Worse than before. His hips drew back and plunged forwards, the rhythm steady at first, then increasingly wild, and she could see darkness at the edge of her vision. Blackness beckoned.
A fall into the void.
Terrified, she resisted, her muscles clenching tight as her body strained towards it and her mind pulled her back.
‘Let go, Mary,’ he whispered in her ear. A devil tempting her into the abyss. ‘Let it happen,’ he said. ‘You will be fine. I promise.’
He reached between them and pressed and circled on that tiny nub buried deep within her folds above their joining. Too much pleasure. Too much sweet pain. She could not hold on.
And she let the darkness take her.
Flew apart. Shattered. And it wasn’t dark. It was brilliant with blinding light. And she was falling into bliss.
In a state of languid floating, she felt him tense. Heard his soft deep cry and cushioned his shudders with the cradle of her body. Gave him the same gift he had given her.
His lips found hers and he held himself on trembling arms. Kissing her mouth, her cheeks, her eyelids. ‘So grand, lass,’ he said in accented tones. ‘So damned grand.’
He collapsed at her side, curling around her protectively.
Awed, she stared at the man who would soon be her husband. Handsome. Strong. Terrifying. She’d agreed to wed him based on instinct rather than intellect. He’d forced her to say yes. Even so, a sense of gladness filled her heart. It wasn’t a love match. And it was better that way. Less chance for hurt. But they would each gain much of what they wanted from the arrangement.
As long as he gave her children, she could be happy. On that thought, bliss claimed her and she drifted on what felt like warm currents, only to awake a few minutes later being carried.
He lay her down on his bed.
She started to sit up. ‘I can’t stay here. The servants will find me in the morning.’
‘We won’t be the first couple to anticipate our wedding vows.’ The hot, dark look he sent her way as he pressed her back down on the pillows sparked yet another round of desire. She tried to resist its allure, the pull he exerted on her body and use her mind.
‘Betsy will be worried.’
He slipped beneath the sheets and pulled her into his embrace, drawing her head to rest on his shoulder, her hand to drape over his chest. His heart was a strong steady beat in her ear, his skin warm, the scent of him, all dark tones in her nostrils. And her traitorous body warmed.
He kissed the top of her head. ‘And what was she to be, when she discovered you gone in the morning?’
‘That was different.’
‘How?’
‘Because I wouldn’t have to face her.’
He chuffed a small laugh. It was an endearing sound. Amusement without mockery. ‘The servants know what goes on. They won’t comment, I can assure you. And you are not going back to your room. Not with so many avenues for you to escape me again. I won’t take that risk.’