The Return of the Duke - Grace Callaway Page 0,72

he pounded into her, her back thumping against the mirror.

Feeling the pressure in his stones, he gritted out, “Rub your pearl harder, Fancy. Spend on my cock like a good little wife.”

His words seemed to electrify her. Her beautiful eyes widened, her legs tightening around him, her fingers swirling in a frantic rhythm. Moments later, she cried out, her rippling climax drawing forth his own. With a shout, he surged into her, his neck arching as he spent in lavish bursts.

Thrusting languidly, he gazed into Fancy’s flushed face. Bliss thrummed in his veins along with a feeling he couldn’t quite put a finger on. Contentment, maybe. Not a man to linger over sentiment, especially when he was still inside his wife, he leaned in to kiss her forehead. As he moved, his cock burrowed deeper inside her snug sheath, and her responding clench had an instant stiffening effect on him.

He raised his eyebrows. “Again?”

A shy yet sultry smile tucked into her cheeks. “Yes, please.”

He was amazed by his renewed hunger. By all rights, he ought to have been sated. But the sweetness of her expression and the lush hold of her pussy were too much to resist.

“You’re going to kill me,” he murmured.

Then he set about finding le petit mort with his wife once more.

23

Fancy awoke with a dreamy feeling. That feeling grew when she realized that her cheek was tucked against her husband’s chest. Memories of their passion enveloped her, and her lips curved.

Knight had liked her nightgown. Her efforts at becoming a lady were succeeding. Her marriage was once again on track, and last night had been a heady reminder of what a passionate, tender, and virile lover her husband could be.

A happy sigh in her heart, she was content to enjoy the view. She loved her husband’s body, the taut bulges of muscle, the virile covering of hair. She even liked that scar near his heart because it showed that he was a warrior who could survive the toughest of battles. Her gaze veered downward past his ridged belly. The blanket was draped over his hips, cutting off her view of his superb form…but not entirely.

Her eyes widened. Over her husband’s groin, the blanket was unmistakably tented.

“Keep looking, and it is liable to get bigger,” Knight’s amused voice rumbled.

She tilted her head back to meet his alert grey eyes. “You’re awake?”

“I have been for a while. I was watching you sleep.”

“Oh.” She wasn’t certain how she felt about that. “Was I, um, drooling?”

“No. Although you were snoring a little… I’m only teasing,” he said, correctly interpreting her look of horror. “You were adorable as always.”

“That’s, um, nice o’ you to say.”

She sat up, keeping the sheet up over her breasts. She ran her fingers through her hair, relieved that she didn’t encounter any bird’s nests.

“I’m saying it because it’s true. You are adorable.” A line deepened between his brows, and his voice had a stark quality as he sat up next to her. “If I’ve given you cause to doubt that, then the fault is mine.”

“You ’aven’t done anything,” she said quickly.

“Haven’t I?” A pause. Then, “I owe you an apology, Fancy.”

Seeing the brooding intensity enter his eyes, she had a sinking feeling. “What for?”

“I haven’t been myself since seeing Imogen.”

Her throat cinched at his blunt statement, which confirmed her suspicions.

He dragged a hand through his hair, his biceps bunching. “I know I’ve been…distant. Although you haven’t asked, I want to explain what happened. Not that anything happened,” he said hastily. “You do know that, don’t you?”

“I know you wouldn’t betray your vows,” she said quietly.

“Thank you, sweeting.”

“But Imogen…” She hesitated.

“Ask whatever you want, Fancy. You are my wife and have a right to know.”

“She didn’t ’ave something in ’er eye, did she?”

“She did not.” Grooves lined his brow as he said, “It was stupid of me to make that excuse; I don’t know why I did. It just…came out.”

“Maybe you were flustered over ’er tears?” she ventured.

“I don’t get flustered.” He looked disgruntled. “I was, however, taken aback by her unexpected arrival. I had written her, just a brief note informing her that you and I had wed.” He gave her a direct look. “Given our history, it seemed the right thing to do.”

She nodded, although her heart lurched at the knowledge that her husband had written to his former sweetheart. “Why was she crying?”

“She was surprised by my marriage,” he said. “Truthfully, she has no cause to be. After I inherited the title, there was

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