“But we will.”
“No. You’re…I will not despoil you.”
“No. You won’t.” She went about her happy way, plunging one hand down his flies and pushing the fabric away.
“Ohhhh,” she said with a handful of his shaft in her palm. “I say, you are magnificent, Octo.”
And then she stroked him. With long languid movements.
His eyes fell closed. He gulped. He’d been seduced by some women before…but not as quickly nor as irrationally. Because he wanted this. Her. Even if he mustn’t.
Then she flicked down the points of his trousers. And stepped back to look down at his assets. “Superb, darling. Intimidating to some, I’m sure, but then they did not love you. Did they?”
He had no words.
She’d caressed them away.
He was quite dumb struck.
Then she turned away, his hand in hers, and tugged him toward her bedroom.
He went. He went.
How could he not? Counting himself a fool for her, an idiot with few wits, he did what he’d never done before and followed the instructions of his cock. And his unfailing love for her.
His heart turned soft. Mush. All for her. And he could not make love to her, no matter what she thought she wanted.
At the side of her bed, he embraced her but would not follow her down. Instead, he ran one hand up into her warm fragrant tresses. “I cannot do this. You know I cannot.”
“It’s what I expected of you, but I will have you. Finally. Completely. Call it your Christmas gift to me.”
“To ruin your good name? To show you what only a husband should? No.”
“My good name is what I say it is. No one else. And as for what a husband should show me, I ask you if all brides are shown love and affection in their marriage beds?” She arched both brows in appeal and yet, she was angry.
“Why are you like this?”
She lifted her chin, defiant. “Needing you? Wanting you? Despite morals?”
“You cannot expect me to have you and not mourn afterward what passion we share?”
“No, I don’t. Because you are your father’s son, you are moral. You observe the rules. There is a rule though, that he taught you in his little church that I fear you have forgotten.”
“What?”
“Love thy neighbor.”
He laughed. “You are and always were more than my neighbor.”
She smiled and hugged him close. “Exactly. You are my Samson, my King David, my beloved and I am here at this party to claim you.”
“I cannot allow you to do that.”
She rubbed her body against his. “Nonetheless, I am.”
“You need someone like Trevelyan.”
“No!” She chuckled.
