“Of me? Why?” He sounded completely flummoxed by the notion.
“Teddy, you fought for our country. You didn’t have to. Most noblemen of your rank wouldn’t consider doing so. And then you stayed—much too long, mind you, and I might never forgive you for worrying me nearly to death when your letters ceased right when rumors of escalated fighting reached me.”
As if of their own accord, her hands found their way to his nape. His skin was warm, as if he’d come in from baking in the sun. He smelled of warm male and that delicious Teddy scent.
His eyes narrowed and he searched her face as if committing her to memory.
No, as if he could not credit how she could see him as she did. “Tell me, again, Georgina.”
She started to repeat herself, but he cut her off.
“What you said earlier, when we made love. Tell me.” His face looked hard, suddenly, and wary, as if he doubted the extent of her feelings for him.
She cupped his face with one hand. “I love you, Teddy. I’ve always loved you. I will always love you. I—”
Her words cut off when Teddy claimed her mouth in a hard, possessive kiss. His arms tightened, locking her against him.
She clung to him, just as fiercely, reveling in the feel of his hard lean frame, his heat, his rigid erection pressing through her nightshift. Desire for him stormed through her and she ground herself against him, unable to restrain herself from seeking more.
A low growl sounding deep in his throat and he broke off his kissbarely long enough to grasp the fabric of her nightshift to swipe it up, over her head and off in one move, losing several buttons in the process.
Then he had her on her back beneath him, her legs parted, his hips pressed into hers.
He grasped the crown of her head, anchoring her in place as his lips sought and found hers in a voracious kiss.
She wove her fingers into his thick hair, hardly able to take in that she was here, with him, being kissed by Teddy, her Teddy. Hardly able to fathom he could want her, seemingly as desperately as she wanted him.
No. Shemorethan wanted him. She needed him. He was as vital to her as air.
She shifted her hips, arching and shimmying until she felt the tip of his manhood snug against her sex. Then a wanton moan spilled from her lips and she could not make herself care.
Teddy lifted his head, half cursed, half groaned and reached a hand between them, his fingers sliding over that sensitive place he’d touched earlier. “Blood of the saints, woman, you drive me mad with hunger, do you know that? Is this what you want? Tell me.”
Shuddering, she parted her legs, granting him greater access. “Yes, oh yes,please,” she begged.
He loosed a wicked laugh, caressing her with his fingers, then the tip of his slick shaft. He rubbed himself over her opening, back and forth, back and forth.
The release she’d known nothing of until a few short hours ago hovered just out of reach.
Back and forth, back and forth, then, nudging inside, nudging, nudging.
Teddy brought his mouth to her ear, his harsh breath curling through her as his continued his tender assault. “Feels good, sweetheart? How good?”
She opened her mouth to speak, but she was beyond that now. She needed to reach that pinnacle.
And then she was tumbling over the edge into ecstasy, shuddering as a long, low, moan poured from her, building until Teddy covered her mouth with his, swallowing her cry.
He sank himself inside her, his fingers still sliding over that sensitive place, while he plunged into her again and again and again.
She held onto him, trying to match his rhythm, nails scoring his back.
When his breath turned ragged, she opened her eyes to watch him, entranced by the sight of him, his beautiful face a study in ecstasy and agony that stole her breath.
And then, eyes locking with hers, his own climax broke. He shuddered and ground his hips into hers, again and again, until, with one final thrust, his entire body went rigid.
Afterward, he bracketed her body with his forearms and gazed down at her so tenderly, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he beheld, she wanted to cry. Sensing he would not welcome any such outburst, she swallowed them back and said instead, “I love you.”
“Do you? Good thing, minx,” he murmured, dropping onto his side. He shifted about, finding a comfortable position, then slung one heavy arm over her and pulled her back into his front. “Because you’re mine. No more talk of annulment, aye?”
