Page 42 of Her Rogue to Ruin
“Yes,” she moaned, though he hadn’t asked a question. She’d give him anything.
He rocked into her then, filling her fully, and still she wanted more.
She reached up to brace her hands on his shoulders as he began a delicious rhythm. But he felt so good, she found herself digging her fingers into his muscles, scraping against the hair at his nape. Urging him faster. Needing more of him. All of him.
He’d been watching her, but then he bent and kissed her neck, licking and nipping at her skin.
“You feel so good,” he told her, then kissed a spot behind her ear.
Portia gasped. That spot. That tender skin hidden by the shell of her ear was magic. It sent spirals of pleasure through her, straight to her core, and every muscle in her body strained for something more.
“Yes, love,” he whispered, then kissed the spot again, running his tongue against her skin.
And she broke apart, forgot to breathe, to think. Stars burst behind her eyes. Blood rushed in her ears. And she melted utterly and entirely, her arms slackening on his shoulders.
When she opened her eyes again, Phin was smiling triumphantly above her.
“That was…” She couldn’t find words. Maybe if someone gave her a brush and colors, she could paint it. But no words seemed sufficient.
“Mmm.” Phin moved inside her again, gripping her hip, pulling her closer as he thrust. Then his eyes flared, still locked on hers, before he let out a feral groan and found his own release.
He immediately bent to take her lips in quick but deep kisses, his tongue twining with hers.
Then he collapsed on the mattress beside her, drawing her close. Portia wrapped her arm around him and draped one of her legs over his.
And it felt right. Truly and unequivocally perfect. Like no coupling she’d ever known. Like no bliss she’d ever expected. She closed her eyes and felt herself drifting.
Then, for the briefest moment, a warning thought intruded. This couldn’t last. Consequences were coming.
But she was too sated, too content, to follow that thought where it might lead.
* * *
The next morningPhin found himself humming, a kind of kinetic joy filling him after a night spent in Portia’s arms. Leaving her in the morning before the servants would be up had been excruciating. He’d wanted to wake her, to tell her all that he was thinking and feeling and hoping for between them. But she’d slept so soundly that he couldn’t bring himself to do more than press a kiss to her cheek before departing.
Now, hours later, she hadn’t yet come down to breakfast and his body had begun to vibrate with a bubbling anxiety about what would come next. He wandered into the indoor tennis court his mother had built years before to entertain guests, though he and his siblings had used it the most.
He flung a ball against the wall hard enough for it to bounce back at him. He caught it and threw the ball again. And then once more, desperate to work out the nervous energy that made his head sore and his heart race.
He’d never been so certain of how he felt and yet so torn about what he should do with those feelings. Hell, he’d had a lifetime of ignoring his feelings. Stifling them and bashing them down harder when they bubbled up. All so that he could fit into a mold of his father’s making.
The damnable part was that it didn’t just affect him. A noblewoman was on her way to Seastow who he could not resent because she was as much a pawn of her father’s machinations as he’d been. Her family needed nothing to shore up their noble lines, but they needed funds. A portion had already been paid and much more would be owed upon their nuptials.
But as much as he could not resent Lady Mary, he could not love her either.
His heart had been claimed. He could admit that now and for the first time in his life.
“Would you like a match or are you content to bash that thing into the wall?” Selkirk sauntered into the tennis court, a teacup from the breakfast sideboard still in his hands.
“I don’t honestly know what I want.” Phin turned to face his friend. “No, that’s not quite true. I know. I just don’t know quite how to have it without causing misery to anyone else.”
Selkirk scratched his head with his free hand. “It’s too early for riddles, Pemberton. Spit it out. Whatever it is that’s troubling you. I am known for my stellar advice, you know.”
Phin chuckled at that and let out a long breath, feeling a bit of the tautness in his chest ease.
“I could use some of that.”
“The conservatory?” Selkirk suggested. “I do love all that greenery.”
