Page 45 of The Soldier
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Barbarian, Emmie thought in the single word impressions her brain was passing off as thoughts. It tumbled through her mind withkiss,more,Devlin,please,hot,shouldn’t, andyes.
His hips were undulating in a slow, powerful rhythm, his hand was fisted tightly around hers on his cock; when he groaned deeply, pulled her hand away, and held her snugly to him, his cock trapped between their bodies. He continued to move against her for another half-dozen hard thrusts, then he went still.
“My lands,” he murmured into her ear. “My lands, my ever-loving most unbelievable lands.”
The dampness on her belly told her he’d found his pleasure; the humor in his voice told her he was happy with the experience in ways beyond the purely physical. He shifted onto his back, reached for her hand, and kissed her knuckles.
“You have no idea, Emmie Farnum.” He sighed and turned her hand over to kiss her wrist. “Not the first, least idea of the pleasure you’ve brought me.”
He was, as she’d surmised, a generous lover. Generous beyond all telling with the pleasure he bestowed, generous with his words, and generous with his affection. Any one of those would have utterly slain her best intentions. Put them together with a pair of green eyes, broad shoulders, and a good heart…
Oh, what had she done?
“Let me clean us up,” he said, drawing a finger down her nose. “Then I’m going to hold you.”
She nodded, feeling tears threaten. He moved to the washbasin and wrung out a cloth, using it on his genitals with more briskness than Emmie would have thought reasonable. His member, so impressively turgid just moments before, had subsided to less intimidating proportions, though she still found it fascinating.
He smiled his barbarian’s smile. “Keep looking at me like that, Emmie love, and I will be bothering you again in a trice.” She blushed, looking at his feet instead, but even those struck her as masculine andnaked.
“Lie back,” he ordered, and Emmie complied while he wiped his seed from her hip and stomach. “Sex is so wonderfully messy,” he said as he tidied her up. “There’s no dignity to it. One wonders how the Archbishop of Canterbury goes about it, or say, the Bishop of London. You’re quiet.”
He wrapped his arms around Emmie and curled her up against his chest. “That is the most lovely experience of not lying with somebody I have ever had.” He kissed her nose and then her mouth, lingering over it.
“Talk to me, Emmie.” He rolled to his back and wrestled her to straddle him. “Tell me what’s going on here.” He tapped her temple.
“You didn’t hear the echo?” she said, feeling his genitals, cool, damp, and soft against her sex. “There is nothing in there at the moment. Nothing but a long, undignified sigh of contentment.”
“Your expression is not one of contentment, Emmie.” His thumb stroked across her forehead. “I would say, rather, you are having the proverbial second thoughts.” His hands on her shoulders urged her down so her chest was against his. “I am not inclined to allow it.”
“You are not at your most rational.” She sighed as his arms came around her. “I will not attempt a discussion of the many reasons why this is foolishness until at least one of us has some clothing on.”
“Wise of you.” His exuberant smile became a trifle hesitant. “Are you shy, Emmie, because a woman’s pleasure has never befallen you before?”
She tilted her head up to assess his eyes, but they were giving away nothing. How much could a man tell from the kind of encounter they’d had?
She laid her cheek against his chest to escape that searching green-eyed gaze. “Or I am shy because I am naked in bed with the man who employs me, a fellow I’ve known of for about a month, give or take.”
“But a decent fellow,” the earl replied, his hand stroking over her hair. “I would not hurt you, Emmie.”
“You are all that is considerate,” she said, with a terse lack of warmth—but she tightened her hold on him nonetheless.
“We are going to talk about this, Emmie.” His fingers found her nape and began to massage in slow, easy circles. “There are aspects of the situation you don’t understand.”
“I understand,” she said without shifting to meet his eyes. “We are not married, and you seek certain liberties I intended to share with only a husband, or the very near equivalent. You have brought me pleasure—unbelievable pleasure—but being with you like this is not wise, and we both know it.”
“You are letting the Lady Tostens of the world dictate to you,” he replied, frustration evident.
“The Lady Tostens of the world run the world, my lord, for those of us who must make our own way.” She kept her tone patient, not the least accusatory.
“You willnotstoop to angering me with formal address, Emmie, not when I could be inside you in the next two minutes.” He arched up against her, demonstrating graphically that while they’d talked, her proximity had begun to stir his arousal again.
She rose up on her elbows to meet his eyes.
“You are not a rapist, and I am not a cock-tease nor a whore.” She moved to shift away from him, but he caught her by the arms and shook his head slightly. His hold was careful, and the look in his eyes was guarded.
“Please do not take away from me the good that happened here with you,” he said, matching her level tone. “I can understand your virtue is precious to you, and you are… upset, but I did not come here seeking this outcome either, Emmie.”
