Page 114 of Corrupting his Duchess
And that…that…was what undid him.
His rhythm faltered. A groan tore from his throat as he buried himself deep, trembling with the force of it, her name spilling from his lips.
He came hard and raw, he was shaking and wrecked by her…his body bowing into hers as he spilled into her.
For a long time, there was only breathing.
They lay tangled in the quiet, the fire casting slow light across the room. Her skin was flushed, slick with sweat, her breath still uneven against his chest.
Henry held her like he didn’t know how to let go.
One hand in her hair. The other wrapped low around her waist, fingers splayed wide across her hip.
He leaned down, mouth grazing her ear, voice low and wrecked.
“You’re mine now,” he said. “And I’ll ruin anyone who tries to forget it.”
Her breath caught. She didn’t speak.
Her heart was still thudding when he whispered it again, this time lower, rougher, directly against her throat.
“Mine, Anna. In every way that matters.”
Something in her tightened.
Heat bloomed low in her belly.
She shifted gently, rolling them both until he was beneath her.
Henry blinked, caught off guard.
But when she leaned down, eyes dark and mouth parted, he let out a sound that wasn’t quite a laugh.
“Careful,” he murmured, hands already sliding over her hips. “I might think you’re trying to undo me.”
She smiled and then kissed him. When she lowered herself onto him, he swore softly.
And the rest of the world slipped away.
CHAPTER 21
Anna sat with her mending in her lap, but the needle hadn’t moved for ten minutes. Again.
The drawing room was warm with late-morning light, though the fire burned steadily despite the sun. Their mother sat nearest it, wrapped in a thick shawl that did little to hide the way her fingers trembled slightly as she lifted her teacup.
Heather was sprawled across the window seat, humming tunelessly while winding a ribbon through her hair. Every now and then, she glanced at Anna who sat near the hearth, then looked quickly away, then back again.
“Cousin Isaac is here. Again.”
She wrinkled her nose. “He’s closeted himself in the study since breakfast, muttering about arrears and accounts. As if Mama will suddenly start keeping ledgers.”
Anna smiled absently, her thoughts faraway. “He means to make himself useful.”
“Or important.”
Their mother wrinkled her nose. “Isaac thinks he does what your father would have done.”
Anna said nothing. Only flicked away an imaginary thread.
