“Yes, that’s it, my sweet.” He covered her breast with his mouth. Suckled until he was completely sheathed within her to the hilt, and she was writhing beneath him.
He used his hands at her hips to keep her in place, he drove into her body, catapulting her to unimaginable heights. To a pinnacle akin to an eclipsed sun. Only, more intense. She reached for the cliff. But it was too high. Higher than the Egyptian pyramids she’d read about. It was the only place high enough…
“That’s it darling. Come for me. Again.”
His words were incomprehensible. Her body was not her own as he played her like a genius virtuoso of some rare musical composition no one in all the world could match. Just when she thought she would die, brilliant shards of light hit her with another blinding force. There was no composure left. Her fingers dug into his shoulders. She’d been stripped of her innocence in the most prolific way a woman could be. The tension under her hands coiled through his skin, his breathing fierce against her neck. She locked her legs behind his thighs, moved her arms around his neck tightly. She sucked his skin as he’d done hers, bit, kissed. Held him deep within her.
He rocked against her and the aim for that climatic sensation surged through her again. She spun in a vortex of darkness then shattered in another brilliance of colors, her scream careening through her chamber.
His body pounded into hers, until he stiffened, his neck strained with ropes of muscle beneath her lips. He landed atop her, his shout rendered harshly against her shoulder. She hugged him to her, emotion an axe to the ice in her heart.
No one mentioned it could feel like flying.
“What just happened?” she breathed.
“That, my love,” he panted, “was what your wedding night was supposed to feel like.”
Nine
Dear Gabby. You may have the soles of my kid boots repaired. They are worn through with my constant pounding of the cobblestones. But I continue to persist. Yrs. R
James could hardly catch his breath, let alone lift himself off Gabriella’s softness. She would likely suffocate if he didn’t move. He heaved himself up and fell to his stomach beside her. He faced her with his head on the pillow. His brain was a mass of cobwebs. His one consolation? His countess’s chest heaved in time with his own.
“Will you be sleeping in here tonight, my lord?”
James groaned. She was like a dog with a bone.
A distinctive cry sounded from the sitting room door. Speaking of which.
“Will it—”
“She.”
“If you insist,” he said in mock resign. “Will she be at that all night?”
Gabriella turned on her side. “Just until I let her in when it’s time to sleep.” Her breath touched his arm, raising his flesh and hitting him with another bout of lust rushing over him.
The high-pitched whine increased in volume as if the little bugger could tell they were speaking of it—her. Obviously, the rat-like creature had a direct line to his wife’s heart and James was not above using any means that presented itself for an advantage. He forced himself up and off the bed.
“What are you doing?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll only be a second.” He went to the door and cracked it. Lady Macbeth trotted in, stopping to sniff at his bare feet. At least she wasn’t biting off his toes. He scooped the mini queen off the floor, went to the bed, and sat down on the edge. He held the warm wriggling body to his chest. She smelled fresh. Her short fur was soft, but for the life of him he could not discern the breed. He held the lady up, peering at her in the dark, unable to see much. “The mews, hmm?”
Gabriella shifted on the bed behind him, and her soft giggle warmed his shoulder. “She was barely alive when I found her.”
“And, lauded a most impressive title. It could be worse,” he said. “She could actually be a deranged, murderous being.” He should have known, he thought, shaking his head. “Do you take in many strays, Lady Huntley?”
“A few,” she murmured.
Smiling, he set her ladyship on the bed, who immediately trotted over to her ladyship’s ladyship.
“There you are, Lady Macbeth,” his countess said with an infectious laugh.
Unable to resist this new and unusual intimate circle, James lay back against the pillows. “Where is… she?”
“Safe on the other side of me,” Gabriella said softly.
“Good,” he growled, pulling Gabriella’s nude body into his side. In the darkness, the tiny, yet feminine canine grunt sounded, drawing a small grin from him. “How is it I never knew how you felt about your sisters?” he asked, thinking back to his wife throwing herself out of the carriage into his waiting arms.
