And then instinct took over as they both strained and writhed against each other. Mouths devouring, bodies slick with sweat, hands grasping, holding, caressing. Her fingers raked into his locks as she felt herself climbing toward pleasure again.
“That’s it, my love. Come again for me.” He inserted a hand between their bodies, thumbing that small button of extreme sensation. Pressing on it, flicking, rotating it… “Let me feel your hot little cunny tightening around my cock. Milking me—”
He broke off with a gasp as her hands fisted in his hair. Her entire body seized, suspended in a moment of exquisite pleasure, before the spasms cascaded through her frame, emanating from the place where they joined. He swallowed her noises of pleasure. Helping her ride the wave, prolonging her ecstasy with hands and tongue until the last tremors left her body.
“Oh God, help me.” With sudden ferocity, his hands lifted her from him and crushed her against his body. His rod jerked between them as warmth erupted against her belly. Oh. Even in this moment of extreme pleasure, he had enough presence of mind to avoid carelessly impregnating her. She loved him all the more for it.
In the sweet aftermath, she melted into him, boneless and senseless. They lay entangled in a mess of sheets and limbs. Her head pillowed on his shoulder, her hand lazily roaming thecontours of his chest. Both of them breathing hard after their exertions.
He tenderly brushed her hair from her face and placed a kiss on her nose as he moved to stand. She tightened her hold on him reflexively. “I’m just going to the washstand, love.” She released him then, albeit reluctantly, but he came back a moment later with a damp cloth to clean his spend from her belly.
And then he got in bed and she was in his arms again, and everything was well in the world.
“I have something for you.” She must not forget to give him the fragrance. It was important that he had it. In a way, it represented her heart that she had poured into the perfume. The feelings he evoked in her.
“Oh? You didn’t need to get me anything, love.”
“I didn’t get it. I made it.” Sliding from his arms, she jumped from the bed and ran to her worktable.
She returned with the vial of perfume and offered it to Michael. “This is a perfume I made for you. It took me several attempts, but I think I have the perfect formula. I copied it here for you to have. In case you like it and would like to have it replicated. Of course, we will never know if it suits you until you wear it.”
He seemed flabbergasted, but in a good way. Taking the bottle from her hand, he unstoppered it and inhaled the fragrance. His eyes closed and a small smile lit his face. “It suits me. This is… I could say it’s delicious, but that doesn’t quite capture it. This smell touches something inside me. It is me.”
She smiled shyly, more than pleased at his description. That is the way she felt about fragrance but had never found someone who understood. Most people merely used perfume to impress. For her, it was almost a way to communicate. To express herself. To feel.
“Would you wear it?”
“Of course!”
She took the amber glass vial from his hand, tipped it over her finger, and then slid that finger over his neck. Her movement was slow, deliberate. A caress. He lay motionless, holding her gaze. And yet when she started to run her hand down his body, he caught it over his chest.
“You know I must leave soon to avoid being caught. I already lingered longer than is wise.”
“I know. But I don’t want to let you go.” The strange melancholy he had kept at bay was sweeping over her again.
“Neither do I love. But it won’t be for long. In a few days, we will be married, and then we can spend every night together. For the rest of our lives.”
She tightened her hold on him and didn’t respond because she couldn’t quite believe that.
CHAPTER 10
Todaywasthelastday of the house party and when they planned to announce her betrothal to Lord Montfort. She shuddered at the thought. If she allowed that to happen, it would be ten times worse to break the engagement later. And much more embarrassing.
No, she had to talk to her parents now. Put an end to this farce. Her hands shook as she knocked on her mother’s bedroom door. The maid opened it and promptly ushered her inside. Her mother was sitting at the vanity in a state of dishabille. She had just turned fifty but was still a handsome woman and very proud of her looks.
“Josephine. What brings you to my room so early? I’m not done with my toilette.”
“I know, Mother. I came early because I wish to speak to you before we go out in public today.” Her heart was beating like a caged bird inside her chest.
Maybe her mother had a premonition that what she wanted to speak about was serious because, forgetting her toilette, she turned on her bench and dismissed the maid.
“What is it, Josephine? Is there a problem?”
“I… well, I wished to speak to you about my betrothal to Lord Montfort.”
“Yes?” The one syllable contained all the warmth of an arctic night.
“I don’t want to go through with the engagement,” she blurted.
