Page 83 of When a Duke Loves a Woman
So when the tavern was closed up tightly for the night and they reached the top of the stairs, she didn’t stop to sit and absorb the quiet. There would be an abundance of other nights for that, nights when she would sit there alone and think of him and what had been—and she wanted minutes and minutes and minutes of memories she could flip through, without having to revisit one too often because she had an abundance of others hoarded away.
Instead she led him into her apartment, into her bedchamber, into her bed. With remarkable speed they divested each other of their clothing before tumbling onto the sheets. With his body half covering hers, he clamped a hand along the side of her face and captured her mouth with a fervor that might have frightened her if she weren’t as eager to seize his. She loved the hunger that welled up between them, the attempt to satiate that hinted any quenching would be short-lived. Always, she would again want his mouth on hers, always she would crave the taste and feel of him. Always.
Which made their coming together bittersweet.
“This might have been the longest day of my life,” he rasped as he trailed his mouth along her throat. “Waiting to have a moment alone with you.”
“I wasn’t certain if I’d see you tonight.”
“An act of Parliament wouldn’t have kept me away.”
But a wife would, although she didn’t say that, wasn’t going to think about that. She knew of at least five women who had taken men to their bed without benefit of marriage. This very moment she was lost in sin and yet she couldn’t seem to care. The sensations rippled through her as his hot mouth and nimble fingers had their way with her, kissing here, nibbling there, stroking here, pinching there, while hers responded in kind, tormenting him—based upon his moans and groans that were music to her ears.
Then he shifted her so she was beneath him and he was above her, his hips wedged between her thighs. “Wrap your legs around me,” he ordered.
“I didn’t think you had the strength to support yourself.”
“I’ve another day of healing behind me. I’m going to risk it.”
Lifting her hips, she wound her legs tightly around his waist, more than ready when he plunged into her. She loved the way he stretched and filled her, the weight of him over her. Cradling her head between his hands, he dipped down and took her mouth while she skimmed her fingers down his back and gripped his buttocks.
Moaning low, he began rocking against her, carrying her to dizzying heights of pleasure and torment. Every bone and muscle wanted to curl in on itself; every bone and muscle wanted to explode in release. Nothing had ever felt so good, and she knew the next time she would think the same thing. No matter how often she’d thought of what had transpired last night, the memory of it wasn’t as good as the reality.
As the world exploded around her, as she flew apart and came back together, she knew memories would not be enough to sustain her, but they would be all she had and she would cherish and hoard them. She became aware of his frantic pumping, his harsh breathing, his stifling moans—
Then he pushed himself free of her, burying his face between her breasts as he shook with spasms, spilling his seed in his hand in an effort to protect her from anyone ever learning of her sins.
Chapter 21
He’d never known as much contentment as he did with her nestled within his arms. She was warmth and goodness, and in spite of her growing up on the streets, she possessed an innocence that made him want to protect her, even knowing she was fully capable of protecting herself.
“I might be becoming addicted to you,” she said quietly, and he chuckled.
“No more so than I am to you.”
She trailed her finger over his chest. “I’m always amazed when you offer to help out, whether it’s assisting with customers or tidying up.”
“I’ve never been one for lazing about.”
“You must have your own affairs to see to.”
“Most of those I can handle during the day.”
Shifting until one of her legs was positioned between both of his, her lovely thigh pressed up against his cock, she lifted herself up and gazed down on him. “What sort of things does a duke have to do?”
“I have four estates so I must read reports from the stewards of each, approve repairs and maintenance, make decisions regarding how to increase the income generated by each. Meet with my solicitors regarding various situations that arise. Meet with bankers regarding investments. A lot of meetings.”
“And you must marry.”
A prospect that should have brought him joy rather than despair. “Yes. And I need to have an heir.”
“That’s a nice thing about being a commoner. We don’t have to marry; we don’t have to provide children. Your sort always seems to be on show.”
“I suppose we are. One of our duties is to ensure fodder for the gossips and the gossip rags. Without us, they would cease to exist.”
“I wouldn’t like being the focus of everything.”
“Is that the reason you stay behind the bar?”
