Loren smoothed a hand over her arse.
She trembled.
And there it was.
“I was otherwise engaged, my darling.I didn’t get towatch,” he said quietly.
“Oh my gods,” she breathed, squirming on him even more.
The grin he gave her this time was different.
“Stay low but straddle my hips,” he ordered.
“Loren, your side.”
He shifted his hand around…and in.
Her eyes went half mast, her head tilted back, and her lipsparted.
“Straddle my hips, my love, trust me, I’ll be fine.”
She straddled his hips, careful to keep her right knee fromgrazing his side.
Loren moved his fingers.
And this time, watched.
ChapterSeventeen
Sharing
Loren
She sat across from him at his breakfast table in theconservatory, the beams of the sun gilding her hair, her face aimed to thewindows, watching the birds at their bath.
He was dressed, but she was wrapped in his dressing gown.Itwas too big for her.But it was all they had for the now as he refused tobutton her into a gown she’d worn just the day before.He’d sent word toCorliss to have her maid, her apparel and her toilette directed to his townhomeso she could face the day fresh, preparing to do so there.
More importantly, this also meant he got to keep her longer.
“Stop watching me,” she told the window.“It’s ridiculouslyromantic.I’m melting in a puddle over here.”
He grinned at his coffee cup, his attention remaining on herover the rim as he took a sip.
She turned in the midst of this, watched his actions, andher gaze heated yet again.
“You’re a walking, talking, eating, drinking-coffee, sex-godhero from a romance novel,” she groused.
“I love you think that, though I’m perplexed as to why thisseems to put you in a foul mood,” he noted, returning his cup to its saucer.
“I can’t jump you over the table due to your injury, that’swhy,” she explained.
He raised a brow.“Did I not prove my creativity thismorning?”
“The bit where you were on your knees could have torn yourstitches.”
The tone of her response communicated she was now being veryserious.
“Again, darling, I’m fine,” he said in the same tone.
