Then she watched, spellbound, as he kicked off his boots, laid his pistol upon the side table, and stripped off his clothes as quickly as if he, too, wanted to tear them from his body.
Oh, his body. Bared to her now and so powerful, so magnificent in the muted sunlight that illuminated the room.
All hard muscles and lean masculine lines that she could but stare at while he joined her on the bed to straddle her. The ripping sound of her chemise from bodice to hem made her gasp.
“You’re so beautiful, Marguerite,” he breathed, his thighs pressing against her hips as he stared, too, at her naked body. “My wife, my love. So beautiful…”
Her gaze dropped to his thick shaft grown hard and heavy for her. She began to tremble again, flushing with heat from her swollen nipples to the apex of her thighs where she felt wet for him. Aching for him.
If he had meant to enter her then, swiftly, ravenously like the morning they’d wed, Marguerite gasped in surprise when instead he shifted his weight and parted her legs to kneel between them. Then he bent over her to kiss the base of her throat, her breastbone, and the rounded curves of her breasts until she sighed beneath him, his hands braced upon either side of her.
Only for a breathtaking moment did he tease her rigid nipples with his kisses, his tongue, nibbling at her, flicking at her…until she arched her back, moaning. Desperate to hold him closer, she reached up to tunnel her fingers in his hair to find only air.
He’d suddenly moved lower, dipping his tongue into her navel as the quivering between her legs grew more intense. His hands caressed her breasts now, his thumbs encircling her nipples while his tongue traced a fiery path down her lower abdomen to the woman’s hair at the heart of her thighs.
She was so lost to his touch, so aroused by his fingers easing open her slick inner lips to find what he sought. When he pressed his mouth to that quivering spot, dipping his tongue deep inside her, she cried out his name in shock.
Never before that moment had he kissed her so intimately, his tongue plying the nub that ached and throbbed now…the sensation so intense that she cried out again and lifted her hips to his mouth.
She felt him shove his hands beneath her to clutch her bottom, Marguerite bucking now though he held her fast and suckled her, his tongue thrusting in and out of her.
Her moaning seemed a deafening roar in her ears until she felt a scream welling in her throat. Only then did Walker rise up above her to plunge his turgid shaft into her and silence her with his kiss, his groans.
Marguerite went rigid beneath him, overcome by her blinding climax while he drove his hips against hers and shuddered, his hot seed spilling inside her.
When she had wrapped her legs tightly around his taut buttocks, she could not say, or when she had gripped his broad shoulders to hold him as closely against her.
All she knew when she opened her eyes moments later to find Walker collapsed upon her, his shaft still hard and deep inside her, was that she felt utterly claimed by him.
The scent of her sex upon her, upon him.
Their sweat-dampened bodies fused together.
Her last conscious thought as sweet satiation claimed Walker, whose breathing had grown slow and steady, and then her, too, “Whatever happens…know that I love you. Love you…”
***
“What of Marguerite, Walker? Does she know you’re going to call out Russell tonight instead of waiting until morning?”
“She still sleeps,” Walker said tightly to Jared, who followed after him down the hallway to the back of the town house. “You don’t have to go with me. It’s your turn to rest after all and you have Lindsay to think about, and Justin—”
“I’m your second, remember?”
Walker didn’t reply as Jared gave a sharp command to the footman at the door leading out to the carriage house to not let anyone enter until he and Walker returned, just as he’d directed Sims at the front door. Both young men had been provided with a loaded pistol and Jared had told them not to hesitate to shoot if they felt threatened.
Thankfully, Walker found himself encouraged that the footmen had seemed enlivened by a directive holding so much more interest than answering doors and carrying messages. He could not deny, either, that he was glad Jared had chosen to come with him as they made their way through the dark garden toward the stable.
He had no idea what he would find at the town house he’d shared with Russell. More of his cousin’s henchmen?
He’d decided the moment he had woken up with Marguerite sleeping so peacefully in his arms that he wouldn’t wait until sunrise to confront his cousin.
Why stay barricaded here waiting to see if Russell knew they had returned to London and was fool enough to bring danger to their doorstep? The man must sense by now that something was amiss with the riders he’d sent to Gretna Green, since they had not yet shown up with news of an evil mission accomplished.
Instead, Walker had quickly bathed and dressed and quietly left the room, not even allowing himself a last glance at Marguerite’s still form beneath the covers.
