Broken Dove(83)

He then returned the screen and walked to the bed, sat on it and wrapped his hand around the side of Maddie’s neck.

“Madeleine, my dove, wake,” he whispered, giving her a squeeze.

He watched her eyes blink and again, before she turned only her head on the pillow and stared somnolently up at him.

And it wasn’t lost on him he saw nothing but Maddie.

Nothing.

As he felt nothing but her last night. Her mouth on his cock. Her sex convulsing around him. Her eyes burning into him. Her little, inscrutable smile making his shaft ache.

He also tasted nothing but her either. Heard nothing but her whimpers, moans and cries. Her pleas for more. Or harder. Or faster.

Nothing.

But her.

He felt his c**k twitch.

“Is it morning already?” her sleepy voice asked, taking him from his heated thoughts and he gave her another squeeze.

“Alas, it is, poppy, and you must arise as we must be away.”

She blinked again.

Adorable.

Gods, how he wished he had this for the next hour, the next day, as long as he could have it.

Not have it taken away when consciousness fully came to her and she understood the advantage he’d taken.

“I’ll call for a bath, breakfast,” he told her softly. “I’m sorry but you must prepare for us to be on our way. You can sleep in the sleigh.”

She lifted up on her forearm and asked, “If I’m asleep, how can I steer the sleigh?”

She wouldn’t have to. So she could rest, he’d be in it with her, if she allowed that, and he’d do it.

Torment would not like being hitched to the sleigh, but his horse would suffer that indignity for him. And with two horses dragging the load, they’d make better time.

“Leave that to me. Now, rouse yourself. I’ll give you time and be back.”

She blinked yet again and her head tipped to the side, but thankfully, understanding of his selfishness did not dawn and she nodded.

He bent and brushed his mouth against hers. Pulling away, she blinked again, her eyes and the skin around her mouth soft and he felt that softness gather around his heart, memorizing her look because he was sure that was all he’d have.

“Rouse, poppy,” he murmured.

She nodded and he left her in the bed.

He went to his socks and boots, pulling them on. He then moved to leave the room, glancing at her in bed.

She was up on her arse, the covers pulled up to her chest, the curls and ringlets of her hair tousled, gloriously framing her exquisite face and falling over her shoulders and down her chest.

She was gazing around, looking bemused.

That was adorable too.

But it would likely not last long.