“I was right, was I not?”Dear God, she was hot and soaked. “So wet and creamy for me, Nellie.”
She was so wet that the sounds of him working her pearl joined the sounds of her frantic breaths. His cock went even more rigid in response.
“Please, Jack.” Her hips moved beneath him, restless and seeking.
He lowered his head, took a nipple into his mouth and sucked.
“Please what?” he asked, blowing over her nipple.
“Please come inside me.” Her fingers closed around his cock and she squeezed.
Intense pleasure built, tightening his ballocks and licking up his spine. She stroked him the way she knew he liked, her grip tight.
“If you keep that up, I will come in your hand before I can ever get my cock inside you,” he warned, plucking her hand away.
He positioned his cock at her entrance, dipping the tip into her slick heat.
“Now,” she begged.
He slid inside her, and her channel gripped him in welcome. One thrust, and he was buried in her to the hilt.
“Damn,” he gritted. Because she felt good, so good.
Too good.
He had never had this connection with anyone else, and he knew instinctively he never would. Nell was his other half. If she left him, she would take part of him with her. But he must not think about that now, either.
He moved in her, slipping almost completely free of her, and then slamming into her again. His thrusts were punishing. Nell did not seem to mind. If anything, it made her wilder. She wrapped her legs around his waist, meeting him thrust for thrust.
Jack kissed her then, claiming her mouth with his lips the same way he claimed her cunny with his cock. He reached between them, finding the bud of her sex and rubbing over it. He wanted her to lose herself. To spend all over his cock and flood him with more wetness.
She came on a cry, her cunny tightening on him with so much force, he had to concentrate to keep from losing control. He pounded into her, absorbing her cries with his kiss, slamming in and out of her until he could not hold back any longer.
He broke the seal of their lips and withdrew from her body, grasping himself as he spilled all over her belly. Panting, sated, he fumbled about in search of a cloth and then gently wiped her clean. She stirred from her sated stupor.
“I should return to my own chamber,” she said, breaking the silence between them.
“Do not go,” he said, folding her back into his arms and lying down with her. “Stay.”
To his amazement, she did not object. Instead, she allowed him to draw the bedclothes over them both, and she remained tucked to his side.
The rest of his sleep was dreamless.
Chapter Nineteen
NELL WOKE INher husband’s bed for the first time in years.
For a moment, she blinked, disconcerted. She had expected to be in her own chamber rather than the marquess’s apartments, with its heavy masculine furnishing and dark wood.
But then, remembrance hit her. She had been woken in the night by Jack’s shouts, and she had gone to him, worried something was wrong. His words had been so tender, so devastating. His touch, equally so.
And she had succumbed to both, just as she always did.
The reason was woefully apparent: she remained desperately in love with Jack. She had not stopped loving him when he had betrayed her three years ago. She had not stopped in all the years of his absence. And since his return, that love had only grown stronger and deeper.
Still, no matter how many times he professed his love for her, part of her feared she could not trust him. Part of her wanted to trust him, to believe his every word, to fall back into the life they had once shared. To rekindle their old happiness once more. She was beginning to think the latter part of her was growing bigger and stronger than the former with each passing day.
She rolled onto her side now, watching him sleep in the golden strains of dawn filtering past the window dressings. In slumber, he looked younger and more carefree, so handsome. Her heart ached.
