leg to her bare center, and she hissed out a breath. Two fingers slipped inside her slick channel. “You’re the perfect height.” He pumped his fingers into her, curling them right against that spot that made her legs wobble. He swiped at that hidden nub with his thumb, making slow circles. “I’ll get so deep inside you from here.”
Her fingers gripped the bedclothes and she whimpered. “Yes, please,” she said. “Sullivan, please.”
God, he loved the way she said his name. He’d never much cared for his name, but when she said it, like a prayer, like a pledge, it was everything. “You’re so wet for me.” He continued moving his fingers inside her and circling his thumb. “Before we were married, when you’d lay alone in your bed at night, did you ever slip your hands between your thighs?”
“Never,” she whispered.
“Did you ever feel this kind of desire?”
She rocked against his hand, chasing her release. “No.”
“So this is all for me? This sweet, sweet honey from your body.”
That was all it took and she came apart and pushed against his hand and she cried out. Her legs buckled, but he held her up with his other arm across her middle.
“No one is more beautiful than you when you climax like that.”
She watched him over her shoulder as he licked her orgasm off his fingers. “So sweet.” He didn’t give her any time to relax. Instead, he centered himself against her opening and pushed inside. Christ, she felt good. He stood still for a moment, trying to restrain himself, because what he wanted to do was take her so hard, pump into her until she forgot anything but how beautiful she was to him.
She arched her back, pressing herself against him. “Sullivan.”
“You have no idea how good you feel.” He moved then, pulled out, then plunged back in, and her heat fisted him so tightly. It was like nothing he’d ever felt before. No woman could compare. Would he ever get enough of her?
He rounded his body over her, pressing his chest to her back. One hand snaked around her and cupped one of her breasts. He rolled her nipple between his fingers, plucking at it all the while he thrust into her. In and out. Again and again until he swore he’d lose himself inside her. She was so slick, so hot and tight. With her, his wife, it wasn’t about chasing the end, getting to that blast of pleasure that brought everything to a stop. No, inside Tilly, he was home.
She broke against him, her inner muscles contracting with another climax, squeezing his cock and pulling his own orgasm to the surface. He shuddered against her, her name a prayer upon his lips. Then he leaned over her, wrapping both arms around her middle. They were skin to skin from foot to head, and he’d never been more content.
Reluctantly, he withdrew himself from her, cleaned them both up, and then pulled her into the bed with him.
“Sullivan, it is the middle of the day.”
“And I want to nap with you. We are on our honeymoon. What else is there for us to do? Nothing so pressing we can’t relax during the day.” That wasn’t precisely true. Though he hadn’t explored the entire village, he had seen enough since they’d arrived to know that David’s words were true. The conditions of the roads were abysmal. The estate itself wasn’t being tended as it should, and the staff had been cut in half. He’d already instructed the housekeeper to contact the former servants and reinstate them immediately with back pay for their time away.
He pulled her flush against him, her backside to his front. “Tell me about Matilda as a child. What did you use to dream about? What did you want for your adult self?”
She was quiet a moment as if considering the question. “I don’t know. I suppose I dreamed about getting married and becoming a mother.”
“Well, then you’re quite welcome for making part of your dream come true.”
“You’re an idiot.”
He chuckled. “That is likely true.”
“What about you? What did little Sullivan dream of becoming, besides the mighty Viscount Glenbrook?”
“Actually, if you remember correctly, I wasn’t intended to be the heir. At least not originally.”
Her breath caught. “Roderick. I’m sorry, Sullivan, I don’t know why I said that. Of course I remember him. He was a kind man.”
“He was. We were very close; he was my closest friend. I didn’t even know he’d died until I returned from India.