And oh, dear God, yes, the silky warmth of his length.
There would be no playful teasing. No preparing one another tenderly.
In one motion, he pulled her to her feet and then lifted her against the wall. He would take her right here. Right now.
She didn’t care about the sharp corners of wooden molding digging into her back.
How could she as he buried himself inside her? How could she when he filled her completely?
Emily clung to him with her arms and legs as he pumped and thrust in frantic desperation.
She sensed his need to feel life.
His father lay dying. His past had all but been erased. Even his legacy was not what he’d believed it to be.
He’d lost a decade with his family.
Marcus adjusted his stance, and Emily began moving with him. His strength thrilled her even as she felt his muscles begin to shake.
This.
This sex. This lovemaking. It left no room for thought. No room for contemplation or analysis. There was only the feeling.
The needing.
Emily arched her back when his lips dropped to her breast. He tugged at one, pulling her into his mouth. How could pain so closely feel like ecstasy? So similar and yet, not at all.
At that moment, she did not belong to herself. She gave him all control. She trusted him. His body could take what he needed, and in so doing, meet all of her needs.
They were one.
Marcus increased his pace, angled himself so as to reach her very core, and then sent her spiraling into euphoria while finding his own release.
Muscles, trembling, he carried her to the bed and collapsed. She didn’t care that his weight pinned her to the mattress. She didn’t care that her legs were cramped.
This.
She would remember this moment forever. The moment she felt every inch a woman.
The moment she felt loved.
The two of them only slept intermittently that night, awakening with renewed need after a few hours.
The second-time Marcus made love to her slowly, touching her everywhere with not only his hands, but his lips. Murmuring words she would remember for the rest of her life.
And the third time…
The third time, Emily pleasured him. Who knew what the dawn would bring? After he drifted into a deep slumber, she watched the sky outside her window change from a bottomless black to a soft indigo.
She wondered if the duke had survived the night. A maudlin thought, to be certain, but he’d seemed almost to be putrefying.
That smell.
That smell!
She bolted upright in the bed as her brain came to life. Waters wasn’t suffering from cholera, he was being poisoned.
At least she believed maybe he was being poisoned.
