Page 101 of An Affair with a Notorious Heiress
“You shall never have another.”
“When will we marry?”
“As soon as possible. In the meantime—”
In spite of the numerous kisses, touches, gazes, they made short work of removing each other’s clothing. The bed beckoned and they answered the call, racing to it and falling on it in a tangle of arms and legs.
How had she ever thought she could find this with anyone in New York or elsewhere?
“I don’t want to go to New York straightaway,” she said as his heated mouth coated her throat in dew. “I want to be here for Gina, help her find someone who deserves her.”
Lifting himself up, he gazed down on her. “As you wish.”
She combed her fingers up into his hair. “Attending the ball wasn’t as awful as I expected.”
“High praise indeed for my proposal.”
She laughed. God, she did love him and his teasing. “That part was absolutely wonderful. No, I meant the people. I received many more congratulations than I expected. Perhaps we’ll just take it a day at a time.”
“We’ll take it however you want.” He gave her a devilish grin. “Speaking of taking it...”
He rolled over her, clasped her to him, rolled some more until he was on his back and she was straddling him. “You once told me you wanted me to be your slave.” He stretched his arms over his head. “Do with me as you will.”
He looked so gloriously decadent lying there, completely at her mercy, giving her the freedom to do as she would. “I was a different woman then.” Lowering herself, she ran her tongue around his nipple, relished his groan. “I wanted control, thought I needed it.” She suckled the turgid tip. He growled. “With you, I never seem to give it up. We’re equals in the bed. Equals out of it. I love you, Rex, more than I thought it possible to love anyone.”
With a feral snarl, he captured her mouth while plunging his cock home, filling her, stretching her. She cried out with the joy of it, the sensation of closing tightly around his length, owning him while he possessed her. The beauty of being with him was that even when he took, he gave. He made her powerful, confident. He erased all her doubts.
Those wonderful hands of his kneaded her breasts, pinched her nipples. Moving his hands around to her back, he rose up slightly and stroked his tongue over the taut peaks, soothing them even as he caused excitement to run rampant through her. Arching her back, riding him hard and fast, she felt the pressure beginning to build in her—in him. His arms tightened around her as his mouth journeyed up to hers, capturing her lips as effectively as he’d captured her heart. They would have a lifetime of this—of moving in tandem, of seeking pleasure together, of cries, and gasps, and God’s name softly taken in vain.
She did love when he growled out profanity like a debauched libertine discovering unexplored aspects to ecstasy. It made her feel as though what he experienced with her were things he’d never experienced with another, that for all his vast knowledge when it came to women, she was still able to surprise him, to take him off guard. To please him, thrill him, and make him ever so glad that she was the woman in his arms, in his bed.
With a feral growl, he clutched her close, rolled her over so her back hit the mattress and he was looming over her, holding her gaze as though it were the anchor in the storm. “Scream for me, Tillie.”
“Make me, my lord.”
His deep laughter echoed around her as he thrust into her with purpose and determination. As she dug her fingers into his firm buttocks, she clasped her legs around his hips, holding him as tightly as possible while the sensations coiled and spiraled, propelling her into the realm of cataclysmic pleasure.
She did scream—for him, for herself, for the pure joy that rocked through her body.
He followed, plunging deep and sure with his final thrusts as his back arched and he bellowed her name through gritted teeth, before collapsing on top of her, covered in dew, pressing his forehead to hers.
“We shall no doubt live a short life,” he breathed out on a warm chuckle, pressing a kiss to her nose, her chin. “Making love to you as often as I intend is likely to kill me when all is said and done.”
“Oh, but what a life it shall be.”
“The very best, Tillie, I promise you that. Whether here in England or in New York, I shall do all in my power to ensure you awaken every morning glad to find me in your bed.”
She had no doubt whatsoever that she would always be glad to find him in her bed, to have him in her life.
Four Years Later
Marriage the second time around was so much better than the first that there were times when Tillie could actually look on her marriage to Downie as not a complete catastrophe because it had eventually in a roundabout way led her to Rex. Sitting with him in the grandstand at Epsom Downs, surrounded by his family and hers, she could not have been happier or known a keener sense of satisfaction.
“Lady Rexton, upon whom should I wager?” Bertie, Prince of Wales, called out to her as he passed.
Wherever she went these days, people greeted her with fondness and respect. Oh, there were a few who held on to old grudges but since she now counted the wives of some of the most influential families among her friends, she took any snubs she received with a grain of salt. She knew there was nothing she and Rex couldn’t weather together.
“If you wish to win, Your Highness, you should place your money on Notorious.”
