Goodheavens—the hot, soft touch of her lips on the crown of his erection almost undid him. “Jesus,” he hissed, and she paused.
“May I? I should have asked.”
“This is one thing you never need to ask,” he said through clenched teeth, desperately trying to maintain a shred of control. “Any time—goodlord!”
She’dlicked him,an exploration around the flare of his crown then down the length of him, and he wondered if every nerve in his body had relocated without him knowing it, because this was by far the most erotic, overwhelming experience of his scant existence because ofMarigold, the furrow between her brows, the way she licked her lips before taking him into her mouth.
“Oh god, love, it’s so—you’re so…” He was stammering, blubbering, an absolute fool as she bobbed her head, the movement unpracticed and awkward andso fucking incredible.
Surely he would come like this, but not yet.
He cupped her jaw, reluctantly lifted her head. “I won’t last another moment like that. You’re perfect.Thatwas perfect, but I need you.” He breathed, his lungs and throat raw from the effort of holding himself in check. “I need to be inside you. I need to feel you come on my cock.”
“Yes.” She nodded, climbed eagerly up the bed and kissed him soundly.
He rolled her onto her back, gingerly arranging himself in the cradle of her thighs while favoring his injuries. The head of his cock notched at her channel, and he froze. “Damn, I don’t have any protection for you.” His cheeks burned. “I haven’t… been with a woman in some time.”
She kissed him as she lifted her hips, bringing the flared tip inside her slick heat. “I trust you.”
Her trust slayed him, scraped out his heart and gave it over to her keeping. As he slid forward, the tight grip of her channel pulling him deeper, he lost all sense of self, all concept of being Archibald Grant, and simply becamehers. Hers to keep and cherish, hers to throw away, hers to destroy if she saw fit. Because nothing could be better than being one with her, with his Marigold.
She moaned, a deep, guttural sound as she arched against him, pulled him deeper, her hands clambering over his shoulders to circle his neck. “Please…” she whispered, her breath ragged. “It’s so much.”
“I won’t rush you,” he gritted out. “Breathe, love. You can take me.”
She held his gaze, and he watched the trepidation slide from her expression to be replaced by strength, determination. Her lungs filled, and when she released her breath, he pushed further, and with a shuddering gasp from both of them, he was buried to the hilt.
“That’s it, love,” he crooned, his body trembling with need as the sensation overwhelmed him. “So good. I’ll take care of you.” He kissed her, slid his tongue against hers. “Always. Whatever you need. I’ll never let you be alone.”
His forehead pressed to hers as he began to thrust, propping himself on his elbows on either side of her head, the slow grind of his hips all he could manage without sending bolts of pain through his rib cage. But it was so much, sorighthis breath was already catching, electricity pooling at the base of his spine. “Marigold, I can’t wait, I can’t—”
“Don’t wait, please, come for me,” she breathed, and he was done for, lost, the climax past debilitating, turning him inside out as his vision turned white. He pulled out and came, his release slashing over the inside of her thighs, over her mound, marking her,claimingher.
He panted and groaned, her hips still rolling as his seed painted her. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous like this.” He dragged his thumb through his cum, swirled it over her swollen pearl. She gasped as he stroked, bucking against him, her eyes widening as they met his. “Your turn,” he said, almost a growl. “One more for me, love.”
She took her pleasure so beautifully, rocking her hips against his slicked thumb until her clitoris throbbed beneath his touch. Her release was quiet, like a contained explosion as her head rolled back, her breath escaping in fast puffs as she seized then collapsed against the bedclothes, a sheen of perspiration coating her skin.
When he had her tucked against his chest—on his good side, as she was being overly tender with him—he sighed, a heretofore unknown sense of relief settling over him.She loves me, he thought, again and again, as though he could tattoo the words on his mind and leave room for nothing else.She loves me, and I love her.What could be simpler, more pure?
But what would it mean?
“I’m going to clean you up, then we’ll rest for a bit.”
She lifted her head, her eyes glazed. “And then what?”
He stroked his finger down her cheek, pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. For once, he saw the next steps in his life extending before him, a path that would bring him the satisfaction andfulfillment he’d craved for so long. With the woman he loved at his side. “Then, I’ll win your case. You’ll be free.”
Her lower lip rolled between her teeth. “What about you?”
“I was offered a position at Chapin and Baines, my old firm.” Telling her this news made it feel more real, and a sense of peace settled more fully over his shoulders. This was the right decision for him, for his mother and sisters. He would support her, the boys, make her dreams come true. “I’ll close my firm, start there. Earn a heap of money, so you never have to worry about a thing.”
Her cheeks flushed the most lovely pink. “Then what?”
This part was tricky, and he hated that he didn’t have a plan, a clever solution to alleviate her worries. He’d sworn to never lie to her, and he wouldn’t start now. “I spend the rest of my life loving you.”
A slight divot appeared between her brows, and he knew she hadn’t missed his hesitation or the murkiness of his answer. “Here? In England?”
“I know you’re worried about what the marquess might do to the boys, but I won’t let him. I’ll protect you, fight for you, for as long as it takes. There’s nothing I want more.” This he could promise her without equivocation.
