She moaned around his shaft, and he felt the rumble of her desire deep within him. As she sucked harder, taking him deeper into the velvet recesses of her mouth, her free hand did as he had commanded, her fingers dipping between her legs to pleasure herself. The sight of her hand working, the soft breathy sounds she made as she swallowed a mouthful of his cock, and the knowledge that she was petting her perfect cunny whilst it all unfolded proved too much for him.
As gently as Torrie could manage, he disengaged, slipping from her eager mouth.
She was still on her knees, her fingers glistening from her swollen sex, blinking up at him as if in a drugged state of lust and confusion. “Is something amiss?”
“Nothing, love. You please me far too well,” he hastened to reassure her. “I have to be inside you now.”
Somehow, he managed to gently haul her to her feet and get the two of them the rest of the way across the chamber. They fell into bed together, Bess on her back, Torrie between her parted thighs, his throbbing cock pressed to her center. He took her lips, tasting the muskiness of himself in her kiss, as he thrust inside her.
Her muscles clenched in welcome, and he lost himself to the beauty of their lovemaking. They were one, bodies aligned, breaths merging, lips fused. She met him thrust for thrust, just as eager as he was, and all it took was his thumb pressing on her swollen pearl for her to come. Harder, faster he rode her, until the spasms of her own release proved too much. He sank inside her deep and spent, filling her with the hot lash of his seed.
When coherent thought returned, he was breathless and helpless, the heavy weight of him pinning her to the bed, his heart pounding with the relentless fury of a galloping steed.
“I’m crushing you,” he murmured into her ear, body still awash with the intensity of his release.
“Stay.” She wrapped her arms around his back, holding him tightly to her. “I love the way you feel on me, inside me.”
“I’m too heavy,” he protested anyway, although his cock did feel bloody good buried inside her, still pulsing.
“You’re wonderful,” Bess said.
And when she said it, he believed it.
So, he stayed as he was, his face burrowed into her neck, thinking himself the luckiest damn man alive. Feeling as if they were invincible together. That nothing and no one could separate or break them.
It was a feeling that terrified him, because he couldn’t help but fear that it couldn’t possibly last.
CHAPTER13
“Don’t open your eyes just yet.”
Elizabeth sighed at her husband’s decree, but she couldn’t keep the smile from her lips. He was being so secretive this morning, and it was as endearing as it was maddening. She had awoken to find herself alone in her bed, which was quite unusual since they had fallen into an easy routine of spending each night together.
Waking without him had been unsettling. She had rolled to her belly, stretching an arm out to touch him as she always did, and had met with empty bedclothes instead of warm, hard man. But as quickly as she had risen and begun performing her morning ablutions, he had returned, looking unfairly handsome whilst her hair remained a wild tangle from the night’s sleep.
When she had asked him where he had been at such an early hour, he had told her she would have to be patient. He had then directed her to a chair by the hearth, telling her she must close her eyes and await a surprise he had procured for her.
A gift.
For her.
No one had given Elizabeth one since she had been a girl, and that Torrie had ventured from bed early this morning just for her filled her with warmth.
“Why must I keep them closed?” she asked now, wondering where he was in the room. “It’s rather disconcerting to remain as I am for so long. I’m beginning to feel quite dizzied.”
The last was an exaggeration, but when Torrie had instructed her to close her eyes and not peek whilst he went about whatever mysterious task he was currently conducting, she had been obliged to sit and do as he had asked. Her sense of anticipation was getting the best of her.
“You’re dizzy?” There was instant concern in his voice. “You aren’t taking ill, are you?”
She wasn’t accustomed to someone taking such an interest in her welfare. But he did. He was attentive, attuned to her, it seemed. Whether they were alone in bed or at a societal obligation surrounded by others, Torrie made certain to put her at ease. When she was feeling shy, he’d offer words of encouragement. When she was nervous, he made a silly joke. When she feared her gowns were too revealing or daring, he told her that she looked lovely.
“I’m not taking ill,” she reassured him, careful to keep her eyes still firmly closed regardless of how badly she wished to open them. “I’m merely eager to see whatever it is you’ve been so secretive about.”
“Thank God. You had me worried there for a moment.”
He was farther away from her, on the opposite end of the room, if she had to wager a guess. And a curious sound reached her then, one that could not have possibly emerged from Torrie.
“What was that?” she asked, more curious than ever.
