Raven (Gentlemen of the Order #2) - Adele Clee Page 0,42

need. I’m barren,” she said, desperate to have some part of him left inside her.

“Or Fitzroy Adair is the son of a groom,” he mocked.

He withdrew suddenly, but she did not feel the spurt of his seed over her buttocks.

“I have a better idea.” He turned her around to face him. “I want to kiss you. I want to have my tongue in your mouth, my fingers inside you when you come.”

Sophia swallowed past a rush of pure lust. “Yes.”

“Touch me, Sophia. Stroke me.”

She reached out, finding his slick shaft. He was so hard, so hot.

His hand delved under her skirts, his fingers slipping between her damp folds. “Yes, Finlay. Don’t stop.” The sudden quickening in her core sent tremors rippling to her toes.

“Is this what you imagined we’d be doing tonight?” he whispered before kissing her neck.

“It’s what I’ve imagined us doing every night.”

He faced her, his mouth inches from hers. “And how does this feel, Sophia?” He stroked her sex, slipped his fingers into her entrance.

Her head fell back, her hand stilling on his erection. “Divine, so divine I’ve lost my rhythm.”

His laugh sounded rich and warm, as if it sprang from the heart, natural, not forced. It was the most beautiful sound she had ever heard.

“Touching you is enough to make me come,” he said, which was evidently why he played her like a maestro, teasing her sex until she ground against his hand and begged for her release.

She pumped his manhood hard and fast, slowing between passionate kisses. And then he moaned into her mouth, spurted his seed over her hand. Her body clenched possessively around his expert fingers and she came apart, too, sagging against him. Spent. Boneless. So utterly in love.

Chapter 12

Three years was a respectable time to mourn one’s wife. That’s what Finlay told himself as he sat in the dimly lit confines of Sloane’s carriage. It was possible to love two women but in different ways. Hannah had married him with no expectations. His inability to make her happy had nothing to do with the fact he loved Sophia. He knew that now. Nothing could have cured her of the mental malaise. Nothing could have saved her from the fever that eventually claimed her life.

He must have sighed aloud, his apparent anxiety causing Sophia to say, “You’re quiet. You’ve hardly spoken since we left the theatre. Are you thinking about Fitzroy’s revelation?” She shuffled uncomfortably in the opposite seat. “Or are you plagued with guilt over our interlude in the broom cupboard?”

“Storeroom,” he corrected.

She laughed. “Does it matter? This isn’t the time to be pedantic.”

“I wished we’d had the luxury of a bed.” During sleepless nights, during those times when a man needed to take himself in hand, he had conjured a seduction scene in his mind. But while the storeroom proved unsatisfactory for a romantic liaison, their lovemaking had not.

He could still smell the potent scent of her arousal, could easily recall the way her muscles pulsed around his fingers. His cock hardened at the mere thought of driving deep into her body again. Indeed, he found himself more than infatuated with the woman who’d let him make love to her in a damn cupboard. More than obsessed.

“I like it when you’re impulsive,” she said. “You’ve been so guarded of late.”

“The mind makes fools of the most logical men. I shall strive to do better.”

“Better in following your impulses? Or better when choosing the next place to make love?”

Finlay cleared his throat. With this new devil-may-care attitude, he considered pulling her into his lap, letting her feel the thickness of his throbbing erection. He had thought about little else since he’d tucked his cock back into his breeches. D’Angelo would be proud.

“Both.”

She lowered her lids in the way he found so beguiling. “So, you wish to be intimate again?”

His heart softened. Sophia radiated confidence now they were back in London. She wasn’t plagued with fears and doubts as she had been at Blackborne. Still, he could hear the apprehension in her voice and felt the need to offer reassurance.

“Sophia, I thought being close to you would push me to the brink of madness, but I find the opposite is true. When I’m with you, everything feels right. Once we’ve dealt with our mounting problems, we might take time to examine what that means.”

In the stillness that followed, he pictured a vision of the future—bright, not bleak.

“Did you have to mention problems?” she teased. “We were so engrossed in pleasing each other