The thrusts were growing more rapid, the feeling of being split open repeated in escalating blows. She loved it. She loved every spreading, pulsating, pounding impact.
And when orgasm burst through her body, she allowed her consciousness to explode as well. She let everything in her become a gift to him. For his possession, for his adoration, for his seed.
She’d never known it could feel this primal. Or that this act could be so very…everything. Woman and man joined.
Yes!
He drove into her one last time. An impact that had him releasing with a warrior’s cry—part triumph, part call to arms. His head was thrown back, his expression fierce, he looked like a god staking a claim.
She was his, and he would defend her unto death.
That’s what she saw as he released. And that’s what she heard in her soul: mine! So she answered in her heart: yours.
Then he fell to the side, barely catching his weight on his forearms before dropping heavily on top of her. She didn’t mind. It felt right. And so she lay in blissful joy with his weight pinning her down.
And she nearly drifted back to sleep.
She might have if he weren’t making her so hot. Sweat was beginning to form where he lay belly to belly with her. And worse, she needed to take a breath. So she shifted. Then she wriggled. And then, sadly, he groaned, and he slipped out of her as he rolled to his side.
She mourned his loss. Mourned the emptiness that came afterward as her belly hollowed out. But he was beside her, breathing into the sheets.
She pressed a kiss to his forehead. He answered with a kiss to her shoulder. And her eyes drifted shut again.
But she couldn’t sleep. She had to get home before dawn.
She eased herself sideways. Her body was heavy with lethargy, but she knew if she gave in to it, she’d sleep until noon. She couldn’t do that. She’d be compromised publicly, and that was a complication she wasn’t willing to risk.
“I have to leave,” she murmured, the words meant for herself as much as him.
His hand tightened, pulling her close, but then it opened. He knew she had to leave. He moaned as he rolled onto his back. His eyes were closed, his skin shadowed from his morning beard, but he still looked handsome.
She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips.
His mouth curved into a smile, but he didn’t move beyond that. And then a moment later, he groaned again, his words coming out muffled. “I’ve never felt more sated in my life.”
She chuckled. She felt equally good, though she really wished he’d open his eyes. It didn’t matter, she told herself. He was tired. So she pulled on her corset and shift. Her crumpled gown was there on the floor, but she smoothed it as best she could. She dressed quickly and somewhat quietly. She kept hoping he’d rouse. She wanted to make plans with him. She wanted him to say all those sweet things she’d read about in books. She wanted…
She sighed. He was snoring now. Which left her to grab the cloak and head home by herself. She paused at his door, waiting there. In the end, she chose to declare herself…again.
“I’m leaving now, Trevor. I love you.”
A snore was his only response.
She sighed and let herself out. She was lucky and found a hackney quickly. The driver smirked at her, especially when he heard the address, but he didn’t comment more. Ten minutes later, she was sneaking through the servants’ entrance up to her bedroom. She was trying hard not to feel awkward, but her muscles were achy, and her clothing abraded her skin where his beard had made it tender, and…
And he hadn’t said he loved her.
After all of that, he hadn’t said a word.
Which made her start to cry.
She fought it for a while. She fought all the damning, furious thoughts that crept into her mind. But in the end, she burst into tears.
But they didn’t last long. She wasn’t one to linger over tears.
By noon, she’d dried her eyes and took a frank look at what had happened.
A half hour later, she got angry.