Page 50 of Avenging the Earl's Lady
His smile grew.“I am willing to risk it, my lady, and perhaps it may persuade you to a second yes.”
“The second answer is still no.Though as I recall you made a declaration rather than a request.”
“Let me try to convince you.”
His grin was so boyish, it made her laugh.
“Very well.”She lifted her head and kissed him.
She’d be a reckless gambler again.
He squeezed her breast, and then he was sliding down, kissing her, suckling her, murmuring how beautiful she was through ragged breaths, stroking her hips, her belly, the place between her legs.
Reginald had poked a finger into her there, briefly, before, and then there’d been pain.
Shaldon paused.
“Did I hurt you?”he asked.
“Not yet.”
“And I won’t.We’ll take our time.Trust me, Jane,” he said.
Trust Shaldon?
His mouth settled again on her breasts and his hand moved below for long minutes, the sensation exquisite, and she found herself moaning, and then writhing, and then…
Pleasure burst in her, luminous, explosive.
Shaldon was atop her then, and she parted, giving him entrance, gritting her teeth.
He filled her and there was only a satisfying fullness.
They moved together then, in a quick, ferocious drive, the pleasure building and building until she burst again, biting back a cry.
With a fierce groan, he climaxed inside her and collapsed.
Tight,tortured breaths pierced his consciousness and he opened his eyes.
He rolled to the side, pulling her with him.“I beg your pardon,” he mumbled.“For crushing you, that is.”He’d not ask forgiveness for what they’d just done.
A soft touch smoothed over his shoulder.“Sothatwas what Aunt Mildred was talking about.”
Fatigue muddled him, as it always did after a tupping.One of the reasons this sort of tactic was better left to a younger man.
But, Jane was not a mission, he reminded himself.
“Mildred?”
He fought the sluggishness of his recovery and listened as she told him about the aunt who had stayed with her and schooled her during her confinement.Some young women would have reacted to such an education after such a scandal by seeking more of the same.But not Jane.
He’d been right about her.She was solid and honest.
Not placid, though.His shaft stirred again.By God, he felt thirty years younger this night.
Shaldon had listenedto her tale of her aunt, his eyes closed, occasionally offering a grunt, until she’d talked him into slumber.
The Spy Lord had fallen asleep in her bed.
