The Duke's Wife (The Three Mrs #3) - Jess Michaels Page 0,65

the same rhythm. She was stretched by him, but there was no pain, only pleasure.

He held still when he was buried to the hilt. He leaned in to kiss her, this time gently. “My God, you feel good,” he murmured.

She flexed around him. “So do you.”

He squeezed his eyes shut and groaned in pleasure, and she flexed again. This time when he opened his eyes, there was danger there. Beautiful, captivating danger.

“You and your games,” he whispered. Then he drew back, almost all the way from her body, and thrust. She lifted into him, gasping in pleasure.

Animal was the only way she could describe what happened next. She dug her hands into his shoulders, he crushed his mouth to hers and they moved together. A war of their bodies, a race to release. His hips ground against hers with every thrust and she reached for him at the same time. Her body, still tingling from the last release, found its way easier the second time. She climbed the mountain as he pounded into her mercilessly, and at the top she arched her back, clawing at him for purchase as wave after wave of pleasure stole her control. He pressed his mouth to her throat, scraping his teeth there, whispering lurid, dirty encouragement as she came and came. And when she felt she could take no more, when she was weak from him, only then did he drive into her, faster and harder, his neck flexing and his breath short.

He roared in pleasure, pouring himself deep within her, and then collapsed against her, their sweat slicked bodies still trembling from what had just happened. She clung to him, changed by this, changed by him—there was no denying it.

But she knew she would have to control it, just as she controlled everything in her life. Even if it broke her.

Nathan lay on his side, facing Abigail. She held his gaze, but he could see the little shifts in her body, feel the tension in her. He smiled in the hopes it would soothe her.

“So…were we good at it?” he asked.

For a moment she looked confused, and then he saw the memory of what she’d worried over earlier return. “Yes.” She laughed. “I’d say we were.”

“Excellent,” he whispered as he traced his fingers up the line of her naked side. “I like being good at this with you.”

Her smile softened, and for a moment all the tension fled. He saw a glimpse of something he had never expected, hadn’t thought to want in the whirlwind of the past few weeks. He saw a future, with playful sparring and passionate nights. He saw Abigail at his side in the good and bad times. He saw children with her smile, his eyes. He saw a life where there was no wall between them.

And it was beautiful.

She cleared her throat and rolled onto her back, and the vision faded as she pulled away.

“Abigail—” he began.

She slid to the opposite side of the bed and got up, searching around the floor for her dress. “Yes?” Her tone was falsely bright.

“Abigail, look at me.”

She did so, though it seemed reluctant. “Yes?” she repeated.

“Talk to me,” he said softly. “What just happened?”

She shrugged. “Nothing. We made love and this marriage is now legal.”

He arched a brow. She huffed out a breath. “And it was very good. I enjoyed myself. But it’s not that late, and we’ll have supper soon. I think I’ll go explore my chamber, perhaps take a hot bath. We’ll see each other in a few hours.”

He wrinkled his brow, but didn’t get up or try to stop her as she gathered her things in a pile in her arms. She didn’t even try to dress as she hustled to the door and fought to open it with her hands full.

“Bollocks,” she muttered under her breath.

He could have gotten up and helped her, but she didn’t even look at him. It was obvious she wanted to flee, so he let her flail until she finally got the door unlocked and opened, then stepped into the antechamber. He heard the door to the duchess’s chamber open then shut, and she was gone.

He stared at the now-open door in utter confusion and disappointment. Here he’d thought there was a connection. No, he knew there was. And she ran from it. From him.

The walls he’d hoped to ease down were most definitely still up. The question was, could they ever be brought down? The larger question, the one that haunted