Page 132 of The Lyon Whisperer
Her fingernails raked his nape, scored his scalp. Her legs tightened, holding him close as he impaled her body, the tiny muscles of her passage squeezing him, tighter, tighter, milking him until he had to clench his teeth against the sheer magnitude of ecstasy threatening to take him down.
“Chase, my darling, Chase, yes.”She clutched at him, her arm muscles trembling with the effort. Then her lips parted in a soundless scream as her release rolled through her, and dragged him right along with her.
He roared his exultation as he thrust once more, and his climax tore through him.
Afterwards, he held her in his arms, gasping in breath.
Her legs remained loosely around him, though her arms hung limp. Her head rested on his shoulder.
The musky scent of their lovemaking enveloped him. It probably permeated the entire room.
“Better now, darling?” she whispered, smoothing a hand down his back.
He didn’t answer. He couldn’t.
Without turning his head, he backed up and dropped onto the sofa, cradling her in his arms.
He was lost, utterly lost to her. Would that she never learned the extent of her power over him. If she did, could she resist wielding it against him, despite her claim of love?
What did it matter? In the end, there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it.
One week later,Chase and Amelia made the now familiar two-hour journey to London, this time to attend Lady Frommer’s annual Spring ball. Everyone who was anyone would be there, to see and be seen—including, barring a miracle, Lord Selbie.
Trepidation over the prospect of encountering the marquis, specifically over Chase coming face-to-face with the man, had Amelia on tenterhooks all day, not that she voiced her anxiety to her husband.
It was just that he had never revealed what about the evening upset him to the point of retreating to his den to brood and drown himself in strong spirits.
The lovemaking that had followed had left her floating on a cloud of euphoria for most of the following day. But when she finally came down, she wanted answers.
To her consternation, he evaded her every attempt to discuss either Lord Selbie’s caustic remarks or the evening in general.
As for Chase’s refusal to cow to the man regarding his stance onWaverley,she let that lie. She felt certain he had acted out of loyalty to her, and she carried an immense amount of guilt over the knowledge.
Now, as the carriage entered the long queue for the glowing mansion ahead, she tried once more.
“My lord, if you have any concerns over the possibility of crossing paths with Lord Selbie tonight, know that I am here to support you.”
Something inscrutable flashed in his dark eyes even as his mouth twitched. “Thank you. As I’ve told you, repeatedly, the man is of no consequence.”
“Yes, but—”
“Madam wife, hear me,” he said with barely concealed impatience. “You did me a service, inviting the man to our home. I learned pursuing Selbie is a dead end. He is never going to get behind any meaningful legislation in support of Britain’s soldiers, nor any other segment of the population that does not include the aristocracy. Do I make myself clear?”
She nodded, and broached the other, heretofore unresolved topic. “And my father? Will you tell me what you discussed before he left?”
His jaw tensed. “If I wanted you to be part of that discussion, I would not have asked to speak with him alone, now, would I?”
“I suppose not.” She looked out the small window, biting her tongue.
He bent forward and reached across the divide to take her gloved hand. “You look very beautiful tonight, Amelia.”
She struggled to maintain her pique. As always, when he used that velvety rich voice, her insides went hot. “Thank you.”
His eyes searched hers. “Forget Selbie and your father, for that matter, Amelia. I intend to spend the bulk of the evening with you. That should alleviate your worries concerning my welfare.”
She gave an unlady-like snort.
One corner of his broad mouth hiked upward. “It goes without saying, but in case you’ve any doubt, I prefer you not dance with Tully should he put in an appearance, and if you choose to dance more than once with a man, let that man be me.”
