“All right.” He could have asked anything of her at that moment and she would have granted it. She rubbed his shoulders, stroked his back. She thought she’d never grow tired of this, of being with him. She couldn’t imagine being without him, without this if she got with child.
“You’ll never leave me, will you?” she asked.
He lifted his head, gazed down on her, and she could see the barely banked passion. She did that to him, made him want her as much as she did him.
“Whatever brought that question on?” he asked.
“If I get with child—”
His hot mouth cut off whatever she’d planned to say. His hands came around, holding her head in place, while he devoured her mouth, tasted deeply, urged her to do the same. When he tore away from the kiss, she might have been left bereft if not for the hunger she saw remaining in his eyes. “Whether you are with child or not, you shall spend every night in my bed, in my arms. There are ways, sweetheart, ways around all things.”
In his smile, she saw wickedness and a dark teasing. Easing himself between her thighs, he lowered his mouth to her breasts, kissing one and then the other. She’d expected him to move up then, to slide into her, but he began moving down, his hands bracketing her ribs as he kissed above her stomach, before he moved lower and lower and lower.
“Oh, my God,” she said breathily. “What are you—”
“Shh.” It was so simple a sound, but within it she heard the promise of ecstasy.
He parted her thighs further and lowered his mouth to the nesting of curls. The first stroke of his tongue almost had her coming off the bed. Lifting her arms, she grabbed either side of the pillow, but it wasn’t enough as he carried her into sinful pleasures.
She jerked, dug her fingers into his hair, knowing she should push him away, and instead realizing she was holding him closer. It was an intimacy she could share only with a man she loved. And she did love him.
She was fairly certain what he was doing to her was unlawful—and if not, it should be. Because it was deliciously wicked. He knew so many wondrous ways to be wicked, and she had a lifetime with him now to learn them all and to discover more ways to pleasure him.
She stuffed the pillow into her mouth to stifle her cries. He reached up and pulled it free.
“I want to hear you,” he rasped.
And hear her, she was certain he did. Writhing beneath him, she heard her cries echo low and breathless, hardly aware they were coming from her. She held him close, dancing at the edge of intense pleasure. He knew when to stroke, when to suckle, when to pause, when to thrust with his tongue. He tempted and teased. He of the nimble fingers had a more nimble mouth. It stole her strength, her resistance.
Then she was screaming out his name and before the last of the shudders had wracked her body he was buried deep within her, his gaze holding hers as he rocked his hips against hers, his powerful thrusts causing the sensations to begin building again. She skimmed her hands down his back, cupped them around his buttocks, urging him on.
He sipped at her mouth, then drank greedily, and this time when she cried out, he captured the sound, his rough growl quickly following as he reached his own release. He collapsed over her, resting on his elbows, keeping some of his weight off her. She ran her soles along his calves, ran her hands over his back.
“Oh, you are the devil, and I am glad of it,” she whispered lethargically.
He chuckled with satisfaction. “You’re everything I could possibly desire, and I’m glad of that.”
Jack awoke to the incredible sensation of his wife nibbling on his ear. His wife, a term he’d never thought to associate with himself. He was discovering she was insatiable, and he thought a wife could have no finer quality.
With a growl, he pounced on her, which caused her to shriek and giggle at the same time.
“I didn’t think you’d ever wake up,” she said.
He kissed her nose, her forehead, her chin. “I don’t know if I’ve ever slept so well in my entire life. You fairly wore me out last night.”
“I have no inhibitions left. You’ve chased them all away.”
“How fortunate for me.” He glided his hand down her side, cradled her hip, and urged her nearer, relishing the feel of her bare body against his. He thought flesh against flesh was the most remarkable of sensations, and nudity had the advantage of revealing everything a man might treasure. If he were king, he thought he might dispense with the practice of wearing clothes—well, except for brightly colored waistcoats.
“We need to get up,” she murmured as he kissed the sensitive spot beneath her ear.
He playfully ground himself against her thigh. “Have you not noticed? I am up.”
Her laughter echoed around them, shimmied through him. He wanted to be inside her when she did that.
“I did notice, but—” She pushed out from beneath him and scrambled out of the bed, not bothering to grab sheet or counterpane. She’d become quite the exhibitionist. Again, what a fortunate man he was.
“Come back here. Everything else can wait a bit longer,” he said. “I’ve already told Henry he’s having breakfast served in his bed this morning, and so are we.”
“Is that what you two were conspiring about yesterday?”
“I thought I should start teaching him that when a gentleman has a lady, he should give her private attention as much as possible.”
“Very nice. Unfortunately, yesterday I sent a missive ’round to Mr. Beckwith about our marriage. He replied that he’ll come by this morning to bring you the final item. I don’t want him to find us still abed.”