When the Earl Met His Match (Wedded by Scandal #4) - Stacy Reid Page 0,81

him to feast.

They had made love so many times, he had lost count. Nay, not just make love. He had loved her gently, and other times he had ravished her, tupping her hard and rough, treating her as a wanton mistress and as a precious wife, and his Phoebe had met him with a fiery passion that had almost killed him. The memories of the many ways he had taken her crowded his thoughts and sent his heart into a wild tempo. After that first time he had taken her, Hugh had been careful to spend his seed outside of her body. He did not want her to fall with child so soon after childbirth. At least five years or more, before he would even think about an heir or more children.

But they hadn’t just basked in sensual delights, for hours they had talked, on many subjects, from the whimsical beauty of nature, Shakespearean tragedies, to the plight of the orphans she admired her brother for saving. They spoke of the young gentleman she had thought she loved, and the recklessness which had pushed her to drink with him and then kiss him, and if it was right that he did not know of Franny’s existence.

She reached for the nightgown, and he lifted a hand, halting her. “I want you naked, wife.”

Her cheeks turned bright red, but she did not look away from him. Hugh stood from the sofa where he’d reclined and poured two glasses of Brandy.

“Will you watch the lowering of the sun with me?” he signed before he collected the glasses and walked over to her.

She grasped the glass and took a sip. “Is that all we are to do? Watch the sunset?”

There was a hint of mischief in her tone, and Hugh flushed. He had been insatiable, and she could read his intention from his command for her to remain naked.

“We might do some kissing.”

She gave him a smile of such breathtaking sweetness, he wondered for the first time in his life if the warmth and hunger suffusing throughout his entire body were the sensations of tumbling into the madness that was love. She padded over to the floor-to-ceiling windows, her hips a swaying temptation. Hugh prowled over to her, lowered himself to his knees, leaned forward, and kissed the base of her spine. Then he bit the soft, rounded cheek of her buttocks. Her moan of need was music to his ears, and he lavished his attention on her next cheek and even down to the back of her thighs.

“Hugh!”

He listened to her breathless cries as he kissed her body slowly, stroking her desire to a pitch. Finally, when he stood, she was shaking ever so slightly. Hugh reached around her so she could see his fingers as he signed. “Do not move, my wife.”

He took the glass of brandy from her and rested it on the mantle then made his way back to her. Phoebe placed her hands against the coolness of the glass and arched her neck when he nipped at the hollow of her throat.

He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to her neck. Hugh coasted his hands over her side, loving the feel of her curves and silky-smooth skin. He wasted no time, going for exactly what he wanted to feel, the petal softness of her quim. A hoarse gasp echoed from her when he slid two fingers deep inside of her.

And God she was wet, delightfully so. Using his feet, he nudged hers apart wider, and with a gasp she braced against the windows, her back arching in instinctive want. The beautiful arch of her back encouraged him to kiss along her skin, so he did, then he gripped his cock and tucked it at her heat then sank deep and slow, the hottest of pleasure spearing his cock. Hugh tightened his grip of her hips, wishing he had the voice to pepper her with praises.

Groans and whimpers tore from her at his slow invasion, but he pressed forward knowing she was wet enough to take his thick girth. The tight, incredible fit of her had sweat beading on his brows and every muscle in his body tense. Once he was seated to the hilt in her clenching tightness, he dipped low and kissed along her shoulder blades, soft brushes meant to soothe.

She dropped her hands from the window, curled her hands behind his neck, the move thrusting her breasts further out in a perfect arch, tilting her face to his and