Warrick eyed her with open hunger. ‘You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Rosamund.’
She felt his needs echoed in her own. ‘Touch me,’ she begged.
‘Where?’ His voice was dark and husky, and she could hardly stand the waiting. In the cool night air, her nipples puckered.
‘On my breasts,’ she whispered. ‘Use your hands and mouth.’
He obeyed her, cupping one breast and stroking the erect tip. The sudden rush of desire flooded through her body, echoing between her legs. He took both breasts in his palms, and then bent to suckle one. The heat of his mouth nearly made her knees tremble, but he caught her, holding her upright.
He drew back and helped her remove the rest of her gown, setting it aside. Then he skimmed his hands down her body, forcing the shift away. She stood naked before him, and he took off his braies and chausses, revealing his body.
It had been a long time since she had seen him in the light. And although he had made love to her in the darkness, she now admired every hardened plane, every part of him. She loved this man now, just as she had three years ago.
Rosamund touched his chest, letting her hands move lower. She cupped the curve of his backside, feeling his hard shaft against her stomach. He mimicked her actions, stroking her bottom. She explored his body, moving her hands down to his length. Slowly, she circled him with her palm, and he slid his hand to her cleft at the same time. A shocking tremor of pleasure rocked through her, and she inhaled sharply at his touch. When she moved her hand over the length of him, squeezing gently, he penetrated her wetness with two fingers.
The sensation was almost her undoing. He mimicked her motions, his thumb keeping a light pressure above her opening. As she stroked him, he did the same, matching her rhythm.
‘I am yours,’ he said quietly. ‘Whatever you do to me, I will do the same for you.’ The very thought aroused her deeply. And she wanted to touch this man intimately, to make him feel the same rush of need that he had kindled within her.
‘Lie down on the furs,’ she commanded, pulling her hand away. If he continued, she would no longer be able to stand. And he had piqued her curiosity, making her wonder if she could push him over the edge, just as he had done to her.
Warrick obeyed, leaning back upon the small bed. Rosamund was intrigued by the power he had given her, and knelt with her legs straddling his waist. She moved her hands over him once again, wanting to explore his body. She touched his chest, and he lifted his palms to her breasts, stroking her nipples until she felt another surge of heat between her legs. And when she started to move lower, his manhood nudged her cheek.
‘Face the other way, Rosamund,’ he said. His tone was imperious, and she didn’t understand what he meant until he guided her so that she knelt with her legs straddling his face. She could feel his very breath against her womanhood.
By all the Saints, was this what he wanted? The very thought sent her needs spiralling out of her control. She lowered her mouth to the tip of his shaft, while he slid his tongue against her cleft.
‘Warrick,’ she cried out, feeling completely exposed to him.
But the sensation was so heady, she could not resist it. She leaned down again, licking the length of him, and he did the same to her until she shuddered. This time, she took him into her mouth, and he began teasing her nodule with his tongue. The fist of desire squeezed hard inside her, and she felt herself rising to his call. Her folds were swollen, her body so ready for him, she could hardly bear it.
She teased him again, swirling her tongue over the head of him, and he began to flick his own tongue over her until a sudden release broke through, her body seizing up while she arched hard and the pleasure crashed over her.
She could not continue like this, and she moved forward away from his mouth. She reached for his shaft and he sat up to give her better access to him. When she mounted him, he slid inside easily. The pressure of being filled by this man was such a delicious friction, she almost wanted to remain motionless.
But he lifted his hips and began stroking her with his erection. She could feel him filling her and withdrawing, and the reverse position bumped him against her sensitive hooded flesh. It was as if he were caressing her from deep inside, and he ordered, ‘Move on me, Rosamund.’
She did, rising up on her knees and sitting down again. He rewarded her by palming both of her breasts, gently pinching them as she rode his shaft.
God help her, she had never felt like this before, even when he had lain with her in the past. She hastened her tempo, and he grasped her waist, pumping into her as she strained against him. His hand moved down from one breast, down to her intimate flesh. He kept a slight pressure of his fingers against her nodule, and the sensation seemed to heighten his strokes. She began to tremble, her body quaking at the onslaught of sensation. Another peak was rising inside, and she reached for it, arching hard as he entered and withdrew. She begged him, ‘Warrick, faster. I need you.’
And he gave her what she was craving. With his arm around her waist, he began plunging harder, slamming her body against his until she shattered in his arms. She cried out his name, coming apart as the sensations flooded through her.
When she grew pliant in his arms, he withdrew and rolled her to her back. ‘You are mine,’ he commanded, driving his erection inside. ‘Now and always, Rosamund.’
‘I am yours,’ she agreed, wrapping her legs around him as he drove inside her. She gripped his hair, meeting each thrust until she felt him grow harder inside her. He let out a gritted sigh and emptied himself into her flesh, sealing their marriage with his seed.
They were joined now as man and wife, and her body still trembled with aftershocks of their lovemaking. He remained buried inside her, cradling her body against his. ‘No matter what happens with Pevensham, I hold hope that one day we will have a child of our own.’
His words brought about an unexpected wave of grief. Tears welled up in her eyes at the memory of her daughter. She had held this secret inside her for so long, never intending to tell Warrick. But he deserved to know the truth—especially now.
She took a deep breath, gathering her courage. Her heart pounded in her chest, her nerves tightening. ‘We did conceive a child.’ Her voice came out softer than she had intended, out of fear of what he might say.
Warrick moved her to her side, his body still joined with hers. ‘It’s too soon to know that, Rosamund. It will be weeks yet.’
He didn’t understand. The brittle sadness swelled inside her, and Rosamund forced herself to say the words she had held back for so long. ‘Our daughter would have been nearly three years old, had she lived.’
There was a sudden tension in him as he grasped what she had said. For a moment, Warrick’s blue eyes stared into hers, and she sensed his anger. ‘Do you mean to say that you were pregnant with my child when you married Alan?’
