He lifted her and plunged. The tightness inside gave and her body was awash with another explosion of pleasure.
Melcombe stiffened and cried out her name before collapsing and rolling to his side, taking her upon him.
Althea rested her head on his chest and tried to come to terms with everything her body had just experienced. Maybe being his mistress wouldn’t be such a bad lot in life.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Prestonwonderedifhispulse would ever return to normal, or his breathing. He was not without experience but with Althea it was entirely new. Her moans and cries of pleasure drove him to the brink and over. It was an experience he would never forget.
He lifted his head and kissed the top of hers. Her small hand lay on his stomach. He couldn’t wait until those very hands explored him, though he wasn’t sure his body could take it after what it had just gone through. He had never understood why the French called it thelittle deathuntil now.
Preston brought her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers, then kept it cradled with his when he rested it on his chest. Slowly his pulse returned to normal and all he wanted to do was lay there and hold her.
Althea shivered at his side. The room had gotten chilly, now that their bodies had cooled, and he moved to pull the blanket from underneath to cover them. He then pulled her into his arms and kissed her, luxuriating in the feel of her body against his. Her head then rested on his heart and Preston savored each moment in a way that was impossible when he was heated with desire earlier.
Preston leaned down and kissed her, then stroked her midnight hair. Outside the blizzard continued and occasionally a limb scraped against the building. Inside this room, they were warm, cozy, and in each other’s arms. At this very moment, he didn’t care if the blizzard continued for days so that they’d have no reason to leave this bed.
Althea felt she should say something, but what does one say after making love. Her biggest concern was that he would be sorry. She wasn’t and couldn’t imagine ever regretting this night.
Though tired, Althea knew sleep was impossible and she looked up to study him. “Lord Melcombe?” she began with hesitation.
He abruptly looked at her. “Melcombe?”
What had she said wrong? “That is your name. . . “
“My name is Preston.” He smiled.
“Yes, but . . .”
“Hush. I am a man, not some title. And I certainly hoped you were making love to the man.”
“Of course.” She rested her head back on his chest and stared into the flames, content to be exactly where she was at this moment.
“Althea, I don’t think you have any idea how happy you have made me,” he whispered into the darkness.
A smile pulled at her lips, but she said nothing. He made her very happy as well, though she was not comfortable enough to voice her thoughts.
For the longest while he ran his hand up and down her upper arm, caressing her, comforting without words. His hand slowed and stopped. A moment later, a light rumble emanated in his chest. Althea relaxed further. Lord Mel…Preston was asleep. She wasn’t sure she would be lucky enough to find the same escape, and not certain she wished to.
At the moment, there were no regrets, and she didn’t want the night to end. But, with all things, she knew that this too would end, and she was going to commit everything to memory.
Except, she did sleep and soon sunlight streamed through the window.
As the fog of sleep lifted from her mind, Althea began to recall exactly where she was, and with whom!
She pulled the counterpane up to her chin and looked over her shoulder. Preston lay on his back, arm over his head, snoring. His chest was bare and visions from the night before came back to haunt her.
What had she done?
Althea willed the panic away. She did exactly what she wanted and there was no point in being sorry now. Besides, now that her moment of panic had passed, she didn’t regret anything and was grateful it had happened. Isn’t this what she had wanted for months? Preston was the one she thought about in her lonely bed, wondering what his kiss would be like, his touch, his skin. Now she knew and in great detail. Further, she would never forget.
It was also over. She may have had the wayward thought last night that it wouldn’t be so difficult to be his mistress, but in the light of day, rationale returned. Althea knew that in time she’d grow miserable at having access to his body, but never his heart.
Nor could she return to Ambrose Hall and continue teaching as if nothing had occurred. He could very well expect that they continue what they began last night, and she’d decline, but she also knew herself well enough that she’d give in and in turn become governess by day and mistress by night, and be miserable in the end. Especially when he finally brought a bride home because the one thing Melcombe needed was an heir.
The thought of him married to another was crushing, and in that instant, Althea knew what she needed to do, and slipped from the bed.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
