Her eyes flew open. “Why did you stop?”
“Just a temporary pause, lass. I’m not nearly done with you yet.” He took hold of her wrist and steered her around to the settee, where he sat and unbuttoned his fly, giving freedom to his straining erection. A ripple of sexual anticipation ran across Louisa’s body.
“Come here,” he said, and positioned her in front, facing him. Then he hoisted her nightgown up to her waist and placed his hands on her bare hips. “Straddle me.”
“Straddleyou?” she squeaked, her eyes widening.
“Aye.” He gave her a devilish smile. “Climb onto me. A knee on either side.”
Giggling, and with as much grace as she could muster, Louisa eased herself over him.
“This is sowicked, Max.”
“Not at all.” A glimmer came to his eyes. “I’ve haven’t shown you wicked yet. Lower yourself onto me, lass. Guide me in. Aye, that’s it.”
She sank down, taking every hard inch of him, gasping as he thrust upwards to seat himself fully inside her.
“So tight,” he murmured, grinding his hips against her. “And so deliciouslywet.”
The softly uttered words raised a flush of embarrassed heat in Louisa’s cheeks, yet excited her at the same time.
“Look.” Maxwell nodded toward the wall by the fireplace, where their shadows had been cast by the lantern’s warm light. “Move, Louisa. I want to see you move.”
She did so, undulating her hips in a slow rhythm, increasingly entranced by the projected display of their lovemaking. The shadow couple seemed separate and apart, somehow. Like spiritual entities, perfectly emulating their human hosts.
“Arousing, is it not?”
She regarded her husband. “Yes, very.”
For a moment, she imagined she saw something other than desire in his eyes. Something deeper. More profound.
“You are splendid,” he murmured, and eased her back as his mouth latched onto a nipple, sucking and nipping through the thin fabric of her nightgown. Louisa moaned and tipped her head back, her body taut with pleasure as her husband continued his erotic onslaught. He moved his attention to her other nipple, at the same time pushing his fingers into the tight space between them, teasing and stroking as before. The additional stimulation, combined with the sheer fullness of him as she rode his upward thrusts, drove Louisa rapidly toward the brink.
“Oh, dearGod.”
She closed her eyes, aware of Maxwell’s growing frenzy, his gradual loss of control as his thrusts increased. His obvious excitement burned through her final few threads of restraint. “Max, please… I have to…”
He drew a ragged breath, grasped her hips, and plunged hard and deep. “Then let it go, lass,” he said, his voice strained. “Let it go.”
Emitting a cry that she barely recognized as her own, Louisa arched her spine and surrendered to a dizzying wave of ecstasy. Somewhere beyond the rush of blood in her ears, she heard Maxwell’s breath catch and felt him pulse inside her, filling her with his heat.
He fell back and Louisa collapsed into his arms, feeling the rise and fall of his chest and hearing the solid thud of his heart, loud in her ear. As she continued to drift on a cloud of sweet fulfillment, her weakened emotional defenses dropped and the words tumbled out before she could stop them.
“I love you, Max.”
There followed a moment of silence in which she cursed her slip but dared to hope for an echoed response. The moment passed.
Then, “I’m a fortunate man,” he murmured, and pressed a lingering kiss to her hair before easing her to his side, still folded in his embrace. “Very fortunate.”
Not quite the response she’d hoped for. She lay still, unsure of what to say for fear of adding to her discomfort. Disappointment mingled with measures of regret and embarrassment. She grasped at reason, telling herself hope was not the same as expectation. That he’d declared his fidelity to her and demanded the same was enough for now. If—no,when—Maxwell finally declared his love for her, she knew it would be because he meant it. He undoubtedly cared for her and treated her more than kindly enough. Indeed, except for his elusive declaration of love, she wanted for naught. And as for his administrations between the sheets—and in the middle of the night on damask settees—well, she had not a single complaint there.
There was time enough for those desirous little words to be spoken. Maybe she was placing too much importance on them. Still in his arms, she shifted to his side and lay still, hoping he wouldn’t dispatch her off to bed with some excuse.
“You never answered my question,” he said, adjusting his trousers to cover himself. “What brought you down here tonight?”
She took a moment to ponder her response. “I awoke for some reason and decided to come and watch the sunrise from the bay window. That’s all. I didn’t know you were here. I didn’t even know you’d come home.”
“You thought I was with her,” he said, after a pause. “With Jane.”
