When his eyes opened, he was watching her with a passionate adoration that left her breathless.
Sex had always been a means of manipulation.
This, right now with Emerson, was what it felt like to make love.
He closed the distance between them, kissing her sweetly, searchingly, achingly soft. After a moment, Jaxsen lifted herself slowly then slid him back into place, rejoicing when his kiss paused as if he couldn’t deal with the amount of pleasure coursing through him.
She understood completely.
Her body was begging for more; it wasn’t enough.
And she wondered if it ever would be.
Tomorrow would tell, but for now… now she was all his.
And he was hers.
She rose again and repeated the smooth motion, biting her lip as his breath came in short gasps, breaking the kisses as he panted against her lips. His touch at her breast became two hands kneading, touching, soothing, and exploring. The room shimmered as her body begged for release. When his mouth found the pink tip of her breast, she nearly cried out with pleasure, her body shuddering before catapulting her over the edge of bliss into oblivion.
As if her own pleasure pulled the trigger on his, he shuddered against her, his head buried in her chest as his hands moved to clench around her waist, pulling her hard onto him, then as if realizing what he was doing, lifted her off in a rush, sending bath water over the side of the tub in his urgency to keep her from becoming with child.
Their child.
As if that were possible. A fracture in her heart gave a quake, reminding her its existence, as if forgetting it could be feasible.
He leaned back, gasping, and then met her gaze. “Pardon my abrupt… disengagement.”
At his words, she gave a giggle. “How formal.” She shook her head in amusement. “It’s of no consequence.”
“It could have been.” He gave a wry grin as he leaned forward and pulled her back onto his lap. He kissed her gently. His lips were soft from her abuse, his flavor welcome and now familiar.
She melted into his embrace, but the fracture in her heart ached like a phantom limb. “No, it couldn’t have been. I can’t conceive,” she whispered against his neck as she wrapped her arms around him in an embrace.
He held her firmly. “I see. Well then, I suppose your legend status is confirmed, since there won’t be a miniature replica… though I must say the world is less for it.”
She leaned back and regarded him.
“Do you wish you could someday have a child?” he asked, as if it were the most natural conversation in the world.
Didn’t men, especially those who just engaged in somewhat casual sex, shy away from talk of progeny? Maybe since he knew it wasn’t a threat to his line, he didn’t mind asking. But in her experience, men of quality were damn-near obsessed with having heirs.
Which only meant two possibilities.
One. He wasn’t interested in her long term. Of course, he wouldn’t be. She wasn’t exactly countess material, and she wasn’t expecting anything.
Yet as she considered it, she realized she was lying to herself. She did want to be worthy, to be enough for someone.
Even when she couldn’t do the most important thing Society said a woman could do… and for some opinions, the only thing a woman was good for.
Reproduction.
Or two. It didn’t matter to him. Which was utterly impossible. As a lord of an entailed estate, he needed an heir or two.
“You’re oddly silent, and I find it quite terrifying. I happen to know you hold no sharp objects. You’re quite blissfully naked. You really should walk around naked. I’m sure all the secrets of the world would be laid at your feet without as much as a shot fired. Good Lord, you’re glorious. But I digress, what is going on in that brilliant mind, Jaxsen?
“Collette,” she whispered. “Call me Collette.” She met his gaze, focusing on the cool yet warm blue of his eyes as he smiled.
“Collette.” He breathed her name, caressing it with his voice. “What is troubling you?”
