Sophie’s answering groan mingled with his. He took such care of her, though he didn’t hold back, his thrusts powerful. She knew she was truly with him as he loved her, and was in a place he wanted to be. David brushed her hair back with a hard hand, kissed her lips, stroked her skin, looked into her eyes without worry.
“My beautiful lady.” His words were filled with quiet desire. “If I’d known how this would feel, I never could have stayed away from you.”
Sophie wanted to answer with witty words, to tell him what he meant to her. She could only touch him, whisper his name.
David didn’t seem to mind. He sped his thrusts, each one fire. Sophie clutched at him, the shirt that enticingly bared his shoulders coming off in her frenzy. The folds landed on the plaid, the fine lawn and wool cradling them both.
David’s skin was smooth over hard muscle. She felt his heart swiftly beating, his breath on her skin, his kisses. Most of all she felt him inside her, opening her, spreading her, remaking her.
Wildness swept her body, and she heard her voice ringing through the firelight. Wordless cries sprang from her throat, a dark, hot ferocity closing her in a crushing grip.
David awakened her, freed her. She met him thrust for thrust, his voice rumbling as he groaned her name, the sound like velvet.
I love you! Sophie shouted silently. She might have said it out loud—she wasn’t certain.
The wildness took her far away on a whirlwind of sensation, then receded, very, very slowly.
After a long time, the world stopped spinning, and she realized she lay on a soft bed, safe in David’s arms. He kissed her lips, her face, nipping, whispering, loving.
“My Sophie.” He licked the shell of her ear. “My love. My lady.”
Sophie could only cup his face, kiss his mouth, and love him.
Sophie woke to dawn light. It trickled through the window to halo David next to her in a tangle of sheets and plaid. He must have covered them in the night while Sophie lay insensible from the third time he’d taken her.
Laurie had never brought her to life as David had, never lifted her to the place of unrestrained frenzy. She blushed to think of the things she’d said and done with David in the night.
His cock rested heavily against her thigh, hard with arousal. He must be having a nice dream.
As though he felt her gaze, David opened his eyes. He smiled, relief on his face. “Love. There you are.”
“I’d hardly run through the house in my altogether.” Sophie skimmed her fingers along his arm, enjoying the strength of him. “And anyway, I was asleep.”
David regarded her quietly with his gray-blue eyes. “I feared this would prove to be a dream.”
“On the contrary, I think your dreams were quite randy.” Sophie let her hand drift to his hardness, and David’s smile turned sinful.
“Oh, they were. Would you like me to tell you about them?”
“Will you think me very wicked if I say yes?”
“I will think you wonderful.”
“Then yes.” Sophie squeezed, and David let out a groan.
“I believe I will show you instead.” David growled as he rolled her down into the bed, parting her legs and sliding into her once more.
Sophie laughed and happily succumbed.
When she woke the next time, more hours had passed, and David was gone.
Sophie sat up quickly. She flushed with embarrassment when she saw that a dressing gown had been left for her, along with one of her own shirtwaists and skirt, stockings and sensible shoes, easy things to put on herself. Eleanor must have brought them.
The plaid still lay across the bed, and Sophie spent a moment hugging it to herself, reveling in the sensation of the wool on her skin, the warmth it held of David.
Once she persuaded herself to leave the bed, she dressed hastily, hoping David would return and offer to button her, escort her downstairs, or even simply say good morning. He never appeared.
Sophie’s hair was a mess, but she managed to untangle it with a hairbrush that had magically appeared, and pull it into a simple plait. Eleanor had thoughtfully supplied a ribbon and some pins so Sophie could at least wind the braid into a knot and secure it in place.