A Secret Surrender - Darcy Burke Page 0,67

spreading her quivering legs. She’d never felt more alive. Bringing her head up, she kissed him, claiming him as hers. At least for now. Now was more than she’d ever had. Now was enough.

“Bring your legs up around me,” he said against her mouth. Then he was there—his cock against her sex. Slowly, he slid inside, and she closed her eyes once more.

Yes, this was what she’d craved. She wrapped her legs around him and lay back against the pillows as he surged forward, filling her completely. Long distant memories rose and faded. She wouldn’t allow them to intrude. This might look the same mechanically, but there was nothing similar to what had been done to her and what she currently invited.

Harry brushed the curls away from her face as he began to thrust, gently at first. He whispered words of longing and beauty. Their bodies twined together, moving rhythmically and gradually picking up speed. He kissed her ear, her jaw, her lips. Then he kissed her breast again, his lips and teeth tugging at her sensitive nipple, making her cry out as the tension that had just been released a short time before built again.

There was nothing to be feared here, just a growing ecstasy. Selina, eager to fly once more, clasped his back, moving one hand to cup his backside. He increased the speed of his thrusts, creating an almost unbearable friction. Selina cried out over and over as she took flight. She dug her fingernails into his flesh, holding on to him lest she fall alone.

She didn’t want to be alone—not now.

He stroked into her hard and fast, pushing her over the edge into helpless oblivion. Casting her head back, her body stiffened as the liberating wave swept over her. There was joy and satisfaction. Selina smiled.

Then he was gone.

Her eyes flew open, and she felt wetness on her abdomen. A sense of dread gripped her. “Why did you stop?” What had she done wrong? The beauty of the moment faded.

Harry rolled to his side and gathered her in his arms. He stroked the curls back from her temple. “Selina, my darling, don’t be upset.” He kissed her forehead. “I had to remove myself before spilling my seed. It’s an unfortunate necessity to prevent a child.”

“Oh.” She wished she didn’t feel so stupid. “You must think I’m incredibly naïve.”

“Not at all. I think you’re sweet and lovely, and I’m humbled you would share yourself with me in this manner.” He kissed her cheek and then her mouth, his lips lingering softly against hers.

He was humbled. She knew good men existed. Men who were kind and generous. Men like Sir Barnabus. She’d just never imagined to find herself having an affair with one. She’d never imagined herself having an affair at all.

The cynic in her wanted to believe this wasn’t real. In some ways, it wasn’t. It was a dream, and one she would happily embrace for as long as she could.

Selina cupped his cheek. “You’re a good man.” She wished with everything she had that she was a good woman, that she was worthy of him.

He kissed her again, and she closed her eyes to dream.

Chapter 14

Selina had spent the previous evening in a haze following the afternoon she’d spent in Harry’s bed. She still couldn’t quite believe it had happened. Maybe that was why she hadn’t said anything to Beatrix. Selina had been grateful for the card party they’d attended, as it had provided a wonderful—and necessary—distraction.

Before dropping her off on Queen Anne Street, Harry had said he’d arrange her riding lesson for this morning in the park. They’d start early to avoid being seen by a crowd of people, and they’d go to a less-used area. He fetched her in his gig and drove them to Hyde Park.

She’d felt awkward and shy seeing him after what they’d done. “I’m a bit nervous,” she admitted.

He steered them into the park and sent her an encouraging smile. “Don’t be. Hyacinth is a very gentle horse, and my father’s groom is quite accomplished at working with new riders.”

“Your father’s groom?” Did his family know about this? She would be surprised if they did.

He chuckled. “I can see what you’re thinking. The groom—he’s called Trask—is loyal to me and very discreet. You’ll be using my mother’s old sidesaddle, for she no longer rides.”

“I see. And the horse?”

“Belongs to my friend, the Marquess of Ripley.”

She turned her head sharply. “The marquess is a friend of yours?”

“Yes. We were in Christ