Page 90 of The Duke's Forbidden Bride
But this was them, joining together—the most intimate of things.
Spencer lifted her hand from his chest and linked their fingers, tugging her arm above her head and pressing it back into the pillow.
Somehow, even that heightened the sensations running through her. Her breath came in ragged pants as he continued thrusting into her, rocking his hips against her own.
He quickened his pace, and she fought to keep her moans low enough not to be caught and loud enough for only himto hear. She settled for turning her face into his arm, pressing her mouth to his skin so that her moans were audible but muffled.
As Spencer thrust into her harder, her moans grew more ragged, more desperate, until her teeth found purchase on his arm, and she bit down to muffle a loud cry.
Above her, Spencer groaned, and it was the most erotic thing she had ever heard. The sight of him with his lips parted, his hair falling in his eyes, had her heart pounding.
“In—In a world that has always felt unsafe,” she moaned, “you are a safe place for me, Spencer. Please do not ever let go.”
The words were vulnerable, shared in the height of passion, but his hips stuttered for a moment.
He shook his head. “I will not, Eleanor. You can always hold onto me.”
He slammed into her, the moment stripping them of their defenses and baring their vulnerabilities, but Eleanor didn’t care. She clung to him, fell apart in his arms, and when her pleasure rose to a point she could not bear, she didn’t hesitate this time.
“Come for me,” Spencer breathed, keeping his pace steady, knowing it was driving her to her climax.
He wrung every bit of pleasure from her with steady and confident strokes that had his length almost fully out of her before he thrust back in. But as she got closer to her peak—her hips bucking, seeking—he shortened his thrusts, quickened hispace, and soon it became a race. As ifhewasracing her pleasure. Racing to catch her through it.
Pleasure ripped through Eleanor, and she barely had time to grasp Spencer’s hand and press it to her mouth as she cried out, climaxing with a violent shudder. Her back bowed off the bed, strung tight and rigid, and Spencer simply held her until her climax ebbed into a gentle wave.
He then chased his release inside her, but at the last moment, he wrenched himself away from her with a harsh gasp and climaxed into his hand.
In the ensuing silence, the room felt too big.
Eleanor heard a giggle escape her lips.
“Do you think we were heard?” she whispered as Spencer tiredly leaned in to kiss her forehead before pulling away.
He tossed a grin over his shoulder as he moved to snatch one of the towels from the floor and went back to the bed.
Surprised, she let him wipe between her legs, and he smoothed her hair back from her face when he was done.
“I imagine we will hear enough complaints tomorrow if we were,” he snickered.
After he made sure she was sufficiently clean without needing a bath, he collapsed next to her. He faced her, his smile lingering.
“I do not get to see you smile very often,” she noted, tracing the seam of his lips with her fingertips. He caught her wrist, kissing where his mouth touched. “I like it. Your smile is handsome.”
His laugh was strained this time. “It is ruined by my scar.”
“I do not think so,” she told him.
She held his gaze, letting the silence assure him that she wouldn’t press the issue. Not tonight. Instead, she moved closer.
The two of them were on the verge of slumber when she spoke again. “I believe this is the first time we have slept in the same bed since that night at the inn.”
“How uncouth,” he teased. “And to think we were not even married.”
“Married,” she echoed. “I was not even lucid.”
“Heavens, that makes me sound terrible.”
“I do believe you took theutmostadvantage of me,” Eleanor joked, flashing a smile. She leaned up, giving in to the urge to lightly kiss his mouth. “And I am ever so glad of it.”
