"Goddamn, you're gripping me like a vise," he groaned. "I can't last much longer. Come for me, sweetheart."
His hands gripped her bottom, holding her prisoner to his ravaging cock. He slammed into her again and again. Her spine turned molten, and she dissolved in a hot rush of sensation. Pulse after pulse of pleasure travelled through her groin, catching fire in her belly, and she exploded, flew apart in sparkling, white-hot shards.
Strong hands lifted her, tossed her onto the cushions. Breathless, she lay on her back as Ambrose stood over her. His neck corded, he tore off the French letter and fisted his cock.
"Do you want to feel me?" he rasped.
Floating in the aftermath as she was, she nonetheless felt a primitive quiver. Because she knew the answer. Shecravedhis heat—wanted to absorb his essence into her very soul. His nostrils flared when she cupped her breasts, creating a valley between them.
"Here," she whispered. "Come to me here."
He was magnificent in his pleasure, all lean, quivering muscle, his eyes piercing and locked on hers. His passion brimmed as keenly as her own, and it was a bright, beautiful thing. One, two, three strokes and his spine bowed. His face tightened in a harsh grimace. He shouted out as his release arced from his cock and rained upon her skin.
A spatter landed on her right nipple, coating the sensitive peak. She touched the creamy essence and brought her finger to her lips, humming as his musky taste warmed her senses.
Groaning her name, he collapsed next to her and pulled her into his arms. "You'll be the death of me, woman."
"Perhaps the reverse is true. Here I was thinking you were a nice man, Mr. Kent," she murmured.
"Nottoonice, I hope." She felt the shape of his smile against her cheek. "After all, my lady, I wouldn't want to bore you with my dull Johnny ways."
40
The following morning,Ambrose looked at the group assembled in the breakfast room. The Hartefords occupied one end of the table whilst Miss Percy Fines and Gavin Hunt perused the sideboard together. Percy's mother occupied a chair next to Ambrose's father; the two appeared to be hitting it off. Samuel fed biscuits to the fat pug in Mrs. Fines' lap whilst the good lady went on about the details of her daughter's upcoming nuptials.
Despite the jovial chatter, an air of anticipation hung over the room. Marianne's friends had come to offer support and assistance; the scouts who'd gone to investigate Coyner's estates were due to return today. For purposes of minimizing the mayhem, Ambrose had asked Emma to keep their siblings occupied elsewhere.
Marianne sat next him, picking at her plate. He placed his hand over hers on the table, squeezing it, and she glanced up at him. Anxiety darkened her eyes.
"It'll be alright," he said. "One way or another, we'll find Coyner, love."
Her chin trembled, and she nodded, her hand clinging to his.
"Magistrates have scoured the city, so at least we know Coyner isn't here," Harteford said over his coffee cup.
Hunt snorted as he held out a chair for his betrothed. "Bunch of Charleys, what do they know? But Harteford's right. Coyner's done the flit. My men have combed London, and there's no sign of the bug—"
Mrs. Fines coughed loudly.
Hunt's scarred face reddened as he darted a glance at his future mama-in-law. "Er, I mean we haven't seen any trace of Coyner," he muttered, sitting down.
"If Mr. Hunt says Coyner's not here, then we'd best look elsewhere," Miss Percy said. "Mr. Hunt is ever so clever, and he knows practically every inch of London, don't you, sir?"
If possible, Hunt turned redder at his intended's praise. He gave a gruff nod.
"Let us hope that one of the scouts brings us good news. I have been thinking," Lady Harteford said, her hazel eyes narrowed, "that if I were the villain, surely I would not feel safe remaining in the country."
Ambrose had been working on the same hypothesis. "You mentioned, my lady, that Coyner has French relatives?"
"The Valois, on his grandmama's side," she replied. "I did a little digging on my own."
"Do you think he'd take my daughter to France? How would he explain her presence to his family?" Marianne said.
Silence deepened in the room as they all contemplated the possible alibis Coyner could give... and the reality of what he intended to do to Primrose. Ambrose's hands curled into fists; he couldn't wait to get his hands on the bastard. From the grim looks on the other men's faces, they shared in that desire.
A knock resonated. Marianne spun in her chair as Lugo opened the door.
"A member of the River Police has arrived, my lady," he said.
