the chair to relieve the ache, but he wouldn’t allow it.
“Oh, Maggie.” Gently he kissed the back of her neck and the curve of her shoulder before pressing his forehead against her back. He was saying something, repeating a string of words into the silk. The same cadence as what he’d whispered to her at Elysium.
He withdrew and pressed forward until she moaned.
“Whatever our souls are made of,” she heard him say softly against her back as his fingers moved against her flesh again, “hers and mine are the same.” He kissed the skin of her back and then gently pinched the tiny bud where her pleasure pooled between his fingers.
Margaret screamed out his name as the release roared through her. Her hips bucked wildly against him, the ridge of her teeth biting into the chair cushion. Welles held her tightly, groaning at the clench of her muscles pulling him deeper inside. The pleasure was so exquisite she couldn’t think how she’d survived these last weeks without him.
Welles thrust hard into her again. Each stroke deeper than the last until, with a muttered oath, he withdrew, and warmth splashed across her buttocks.
Jesus.
Maggie still trembled, her body shaking with the intensity of her release. He’d wanted nothing more than to stay inside her as his own climax ripped through him, but he couldn’t. Tony may have come to terms with his marriage and his need for the small woman beneath him, but his mind refused to contemplate a child.
Taking a ragged breath, he laid his head against her back, struggling to regain control of himself. He told his racing heart, in no uncertain terms, to stop stretching in her direction. The sensation was bloody painful.
This was why he’d never sought her out after the house party at Gray Covington. Maggie had an inconceivable amount of power over Tony which was, frankly, terrifying. He’d come to the realization after staring at the account books and having no idea what was written. He was in love with her. It would take some time to get used to the idea.
Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.
It was a quote from a torrid love story his stepmother had been reading years ago that he’d happened upon in the library. She’d underlined the passage, probably thinking of Tony’s father. Tony had shaken his head at Amanda’s romantic nature even as the quote stayed with him. The words had spilled from his mouth tonight and when he’d made love to Maggie at Elysium, speaking his heart’s truth.
Gently, he turned her over and cupped her face, pressing their foreheads together. “Did I hurt you?”
Her eyes were heavy-lidded and dazed. The plump lips of her mouth turned in a seductive smile. “Not in the least. I am much sturdier than I look.”
Tony’s chest contracted. “I know.” He pressed a tender kiss to her mouth. It was one of the reasons he felt so strongly about her. Maggie was a tiny ship, who though pitched about with sails shredded, nonetheless weathered all storms. She was far stronger than he would ever be.
“I think,” he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, “we should have something to eat and continue this conversation upstairs.” Taking her torn petticoats, Tony wiped gently at her buttocks and thighs. He picked her up, gratified when she didn’t object and instead hid her head in the curve of his shoulder, clinging to him like a small monkey.
“Would you like a bath?”
She nodded.
“With me?” He nibbled at her earlobe. She would want to talk about their separation and his feelings for the Duke of Averell. But Tony had decided one had little to do with the other.
“Definitely.” She kissed his neck.
Holding on to her, he grabbed her ruined petticoats with one hand and tossed them into the fire. He walked to the door, smiling as she glanced over his shoulder at the Broadwood.
“You can play the piano tomorrow.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “There’s another instrument I wish you to play tonight.”
“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’ve missed your improper comments.”
“Henri doesn’t ply you with flirtatious innuendo?”
Maggie cupped his face between her slender hands. “There is no one but you, Welles.”
He knew that. There was no one else for him either.
Carrying her upstairs, Tony saw her surprise as he bypassed her room in favor of his. Tossing her on the bed, he stood over her, skirts spread out with her torn petticoats sticking out from beneath the