sight of him and met his tentative gaze. His throat worked. Feeling him and seeing him in his entirety were two different things. She understood why his fiancée had been fearful, but she knew this man could never, ever hurt her.
Reaching out, she curled a hand around him and he closed his eyes. Soft and hard at the same time, the feel of him beneath her palm had her pulse racing. She released him, laid back and offered out her hands.
“Take me,” she whispered.
He nodded gravely, settling between her legs. He twined his fingers with hers, urged her hands above her and locked their fingers. His gaze never left hers.
“Tell me,” he said, his voice gravelly. “Tell me if you need me to stop.”
“Take me,” she begged again.
His eyes were dark, his brow furrowed. He moved forward tentatively, and she widened her legs to him, latching around his hips. He eased forward the tiniest bit then a little more. She gasped at the feel of him and tightened her grip on his hands.
Waiting a moment, his gaze explored hers and she refused to look away, refused to close her eyes to the pleasure. If she could give him anything in return for all his kindness, it was no fear, no doubt.
Finally, he moved again, sinking deeper, slowly deeper. She moaned. He filled her completely and she gulped down several deep breaths.
“That feels...” She struggled for air for a moment, feeling so full, so complete. “That feels amazing.”
The furrows in his brow eased and she heard him release a breath. “It does.”
He shifted inside her, the length of him sending shooting pleasure mixed with the tiniest tinge of pain through her. Somehow, it combined to create the most erotic sensation inside her. She feared she would come apart in mere moments.
“You are too beautiful,” he said between kisses as he rocked inside her. “I fear I cannot control myself.”
“Then do not,” she urged, squeezing his fingers.
He kissed her hard, moved up and watched her as he surged forward. She rose her hips to meet his thrusts and gasped at the sensations. He shifted against her, more firmly each time, until the pleasure wrapped itself about her and she tilted her head, closed her eyes and let it explode over her in wonderful sparks of bliss.
He dropped his head to the crook of her neck, groaned and eased himself out of her. Releasing her hands, he came to completion against her thigh while he muttered her name.
Freya ran trembling hands over the taut muscles of his shoulders then cupped his face to urge him to look at her. “Thank you.”
He shook his head and kissed her gently. “I think I should be the one to thank you.”
He collapsed against her, his head upon her chest. She stroked his face, his hair. If she had been in doubt before, she wasn’t now. She loved this man, this earl.
Unfortunately for her, it would never go anywhere. Penniless reporters with no noble blood in their veins did not marry earls.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Oh Lord Huntingdon!”
Guy winced and drew the perambulator to a halt. He should never have brought Brig to the park. What had he been thinking? Apparently losing one’s virginity also meant losing one’s mind. Since Freya had left early this morning to assist Miss Walker at the shop and pursue some mysterious lead, work has been damned near impossible. So why not test out the nearly finished perambulator?
Fool.
“Lady Marston.” He greeted her with a tip of his hat. “Forgive me but I must—”
She blocked his path with her rather formidable form. Dressed in mourning wear ever since the death of her husband over ten years ago, she struck him as a little like a crow, waiting to swoop down and ravage whatever pickings were left of him.
After a long stroll around the park, there wasn’t much remaining. It seemed a gentleman with a perambulator struck a note with every woman from here to Christendom. If a man wanted female attention, this thing was a damned miracle worker.
“I did not realize your brother had sired a child.” She moved around the pram and peered in. “Oh. It’s—” She drew out her spectacles and pressed them to her face then leaned over the pram.
“A dog, my lady. It’s a dog,” he said wearily.
“A dog.” She straightened and tucked her glasses into the folds of her immense fur-trimmed coat. “Goodness.” With a frown, she glanced at him, back at the pram then eased away. “Well, um, good day