“Will—” She was coming around him, the pleasure almost too much to resist. She flew free in an explosive, mind-blanking climax.
With a ragged roar, he drove himself home, holding nothing back and he slammed into her again and again. The last vestiges of his control frayed with a snap, and he exploded with unending pleasure.
CHAPTER 27
Something tickled her nose, but Bridget shifted her face from the irritant—only to meet another. She twisted again—but the same thing happened, and irked, she resisted the initial tugs of wakefulness, but she couldn’t ignore the irritant anymore.
Her eyes fluttered open and realized the irritation—William’s chest hair. She was sprawled like a starfish over his chest and feeling his heat under her cheek made her body warm all over. Last afternoon returned to her in a flash, and joy flamed so brightly within her that she did not dare to move.
I am truly his wife now.
She closed her eyes to the flickering firelight and thought back to the soft, sweet words in her ear as he moved within her. Her skin flushed at the memory of his weight on her, the musk of his skin, and the thick pressure of him inside her.
She basked in the glory of waking in her husband’s arms, atop his very muscular, very naked body.
“I could feel you staring at me.” William’s voice rumbled under her ear.
Humored, she raised her head to look at him. His hair was tousled around his face with sleep like a boy’s. The lines on his face were eased, and a smile was in his eyes. He had never looked more handsome.
“Can you blame me? You are relatively handsome,” she replied.
“Relatively?” his brows shot up. “I am insulted.”
His husky grunt rolled over her at the same time that he did. Pinned beneath him, she could not help but snicker. “Troglodyte.”
“Yourtroglodyte,” he murmured, pinning her arms over her head before slanting his mouth over hers.
He gave her a gentle, almost courtly kiss. She tasted herself on his lips, and despite her satiated state, titillating anticipation rippled through her. When he released her hands, she ran her fingers over his shoulders and down his arms.
“Another round then?” she asked, feeling his arousal against her inner thigh.
Pulling away, he buried his head in her shoulder, and laughed, “As much as I would like that, I need to get to Gentleman’s Jacks this morning.”
“To train?”
“Yes,” he replied. “A light round, because later tonight, my dear, is the final match of the Circuit. And I must win.”
“May I attend tonight?” she asked.
He considered it. “I am sure you can, but I will have to make sure you’re protected. Lightholder and Pembroke will be there with you. I will not have any man try to approach you.”
“Jealous?”
“Extremely,” he swung his legs out from under the sheets and stood.
“May I invite my brother’s friend Baron Howell as well?”
He twisted his head, expression dark and pondering, “About him, I never got to say before but I do not like the way he looks at you. You may think of him as a friend, but I do not believe he feels the same.”
Bridget made to tell him about the numerous times Adam had proposed marriage—jestingly, she was sure—but bit her tongueon that. If anything, it could give William more fuel to the fire of his assumptions.
“He’s not like that,” she said, sitting up and laying on his back. “He’s a second brother to me.”
William rolled his neck. “I am only telling you how men think, lass. We’re like buzzards, circling and circling until the prey gives up the fight. But if you are certain he is no threat, you can invite him. I trust you. Care to join me for a bath?”
While he had his pack with him, William’s focus was on finding the man Ginger had told him about,Reginald Huffington. It was the final day of the Circuit—every prizefighter in their right mind would be out in numbers.
Stepping into the exercise room, he found he was right; every square had two men sparring in them and he wound through the other men who were waiting for their turns.
