knees. “I’ll find milk for Archie. But we’ll need to keep you out of sight.”
He was staring at her again, as though trying to come to a decision. Tabetha licked her lips, knowing precisely what he was thinking.
“What will you do if you see one of them?” It was possible that the duke’s henchmen would want to exact revenge for the beating Rock had given them. “What if they ambush you? What if they have a pistol?”
He grimaced and then grinned. “Are you worried about me?”
“There is only one of you, and who knows how many there are of them!”
“You don’t think I can handle them?” He dropped his knees to the ground, crawling toward her with a menacing expression.
The sounds of his fists slamming into those villains were unusually vivid.
“You will handle them,” she admitted, her breath catching.
“And how will I do that?” The menacing tone of his voice thrilled her.
She was on her back now, pinned by her husband, who was crouching over her with a wicked glint in his eyes. She wiggled, pretending to try to escape, all the while staring into eyes the color of the sky at twilight, breathing in his scent, and relishing the feel of his thighs pressed against hers.
“Will you pound them?” Her voice trembled.
“Absolutely,” he murmured against her shoulder.
“And knock them out cold?” Tabetha grasped the sides of his head and threaded her fingers through his hair.
“But of course.” His mouth trailed over her jaw.
“Will you kiss me?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
Chapter 20
Surrender
Stone claimed Tabetha’s mouth. He’d decided to claim the rest of her and then changed his mind for the thousandth times since they’d stopped to make camp.
And then he’d changed it back.
What some of London’s best fighters had failed to do, Tabetha Fitzwilliam—nay, Tabetha Spencer—had managed to accomplish in less than a week.
Because Stone, a man who backed down to no one, was on the brink of surrender.
She was a spoiled debutante, one who had dismissed him more times than he could count. He swept his tongue behind her lips and she caught it with her teeth.
She’d mocked him with this pretty little mouth—for his lack of title—his lack of refinement. She’d foolishly run off with Culpepper to elevate her position.
But she’d realized that had been a mistake. Why?
This duchess obsession of hers, he suspected, couldn’t be motivated by her own wants, Someone had convinced her it was something she needed.
But who?
There was so much more to her--to this woman who’d moved into his heart.
Whoever she was now was also a part of who she had been before. And the person she was now loved him. The person she was now wanted him.
“Tabetha.” He drew back. He needed to tell her everything first. She needed to make this decision knowing the truth. He would risk losing her, risk losing this tenuous connection that had developed between them, but it was better this way.
She wriggled beneath him. “Make love to me, Rock.” She arched her back, straining to capture his mouth again. “I want you. I want all of you.” Her hands roved down his sides and then around his middle, clutching at him.
His straining cock begged to be released, and the siren beneath him answered the call, unfastening his trousers and tugging them down.
He could tell her everything afterward.
“So much.” Her throaty entreaty broke his last vestige of restraint.
“So damn beautiful.” The memory of the soft flesh he’d tasted earlier remained vivid in his mind. One hand lowered her bodice while the other pushed up her skirts. She assisted him by raising her hips off the ground and, with a frenzied efficiency, the two of them managed to remove every barrier between them. His mouth at her breasts, his cock at her entrance.
“It’s too fast. I should go slow for you.” He made one last attempt.
He’d wanted her first time to be leisurely. He should draw it out slowly, ensure that she was wet and open and ready to take him in.
“No.” Her hips bucked. “This is us. Take me, Stone. Now. I want all of you.”
The temptation was too great. He nudged himself inside, no more than a few inches. She was so tight and soft, like velvet.
“Yes.” His virgin bride would drive him to madness. He allowed himself a few more inches, waiting to feel her relax and adjust around him. Her eyes were open now, and she was gasping, gazing up at him.
She was a gift.
“Tell me if it hurts too much.” Had he already hurt