Page 92 of Foolish Bride
She thrashed and bit her lip.
The priest was just down the hall, so silence was important.
Michael licked her folds from the bottom to the top, then down again. He focused on the bud at the top of her sex, first kissing then suckling it. He pinched and tweaked her nipple. She arched her back, giving him better access.
Every reaction from her left him achingly ready to take her. He rubbed her entry, and she gasped.
She threaded her fingers through his hair, pressing his mouth harder against her core.
Sucking harder until she was close to rapture, he stopped, making her groan.
When she opened her eyes, he entered her in one smooth gliding stroke. He pulled out and slid in again and again.
She raised her hips to meet him. The pace was slow and steady as the tension built.
She cried out again, and Michael covered her lips with his own, plunging his tongue into her mouth with the same ferocity he plundered her sex.
His climax was close. He reached between their bodies and stroked her sensitive bud between his thumb and forefinger.
She cried out, arching into him. She pulsed around him, sending him over the edge as he plunged deep inside her one last time.
Waves of pleasure hung between them until Michael relaxed his arms and rolled over, taking Elinor with him and landing her on top of his chest. “Did you feel pain, my love?”
She sighed, satisfied. “Pain. No.”
“Then you will not be afraid in the future?”
“Never.” She kissed his chest.
Nestled against him, she snuggled deeper. “You never answered my question.”
Eyes closed his head lolled. “What question?”
“If you would mind…” She couldn’t bring herself to complete the thought.
He laughed. “Mind if my wife was a wanton in the bedroom? Oh, my love, you are every man’s dream. To have a wife who is a harlot in the bedroom and a lady in the parlor is what every man wishes for and few actually achieve.”
She turned away from him. “But I am not your wife. I am the wife of a crazy man.”
He tugged her shoulders until she faced him. “Elinor, listen to me. First of all, you are my wife in the eyes of God. You will be in the eyes of the law as well. This entire situation is my fault. I should have taken Roxton more seriously. I thought he was only a fool. I never imagined he was dangerous. If I had, I never would have left you or the boys alone. I should have protected you better, and Everett. I do not know what I’ll do if he dies. I have failed entirely as protector of my family. I promise you that I shall make this all right again. I will pay whomever it takes, whatever it takes, to have you for my wife. I will never let anyone hurt you again. Forgive me.”
She cupped his cheek. “This is not your fault, Michael. You are not responsible for the actions of another man.”
He pressed his lips to her palm.
Daylight created shadows at the window. “We had better get up, and you had better get back to your own room before the maids come back with my dress.”
He nodded and kissed her forehead. Sitting on the chair, he tugged on his boots, pulled his blouse over his head, and tucked a long knife into his right boot.
“Do you always have that?” Wide-eyed, she nodded toward his boot.
He shrugged. “It’s an old habit. Perhaps one day I will not feel the need, but for now it’s still prudent to be prepared.”
She frowned but nodded.
“I will see you in the carriage, my lady.” Then he made a courtly bow, picked up his trousers, and walked half-naked into the hallway.
Chapter 21
