“Unlike you, I can climax as many times as I want. One more makes no difference to our game.”
He finished the brandy and returned to the bed. “You agreed that I would dictate terms tonight, yes?”
She sighed. “Yes, but—”
He climbed back on the bed, spread her thighs, and slid his aching cock home, holding still while she tried and failed to climax around him. He reached up and cupped the back of her head.
“Stop,” he said softly. “Just let me fill you.”
He thought she’d argue, but she went still, her body relaxing under his.
“I can feel every hot throbbing inch of you,” she whispered into his ear. “You’re filling me up.”
He breathed deeply out through his mouth and in through his nose, as he concentrated solely on where their bodies were joined. He could feel her, too, the tightening, the waves of motion, the gradual rise of urgency that made her quiver. He became aware of other sounds around him, like the crackling fire and the tick of the clock on the mantelpiece and the idea that he never wanted to be like this with anyone else.
With that thought, his concentration fractured, and he gave a small, involuntary thrust, sending Carenza off into a roaring climax that wrung every drop of come from him and then more.
He remained on top of her and still joined, his thoughts in a jumble as several things became undeniably clear to him. He didn’t just want Carenza as his mistress. He wanted her as his wife, but how he’d achieve that was currently beyond him.
Much later, Carenza woke him up with kisses and they made love again, this time in perfect harmony without a single word spoken between them. Before Julian fell back to sleep, he reminded himself to wake early enough to allow Carenza to return to her bed, and to unlock the servant’s door so that Proctor could come in and attend to him.
A persistent thumping permeated Carenza’s consciousness, and she opened her eyes to unfamiliar surroundings. She was still in Julian’s bed, daylight was streaming through the curtains, and someone was banging on the door.
She sat up, clutching the covers to her bosom, and shook Julian’s shoulder. “Wake up! There’s someone at the door.”
He rolled onto his back and stared up at her as if he’d never seen her before.
“There’s someone trying to get in!” she repeated.
It was enough to snap him out of his sleepy trance. He rolled out of bed. “Go back to your room. I’ll deal with this.”
“I’m naked.”
He found her nightgown on the floor and threw it at her. “Go.”
She’d barely made it into the dressing room before he was opening the door and demanding to know why Aragon was shouting at him.
“Put some clothes on, man!” Aragon boomed. “We’re going riding.”
Julian’s reply was inaudible, but Carenza had a fair idea what it might be. She put on her nightgown but remained at the half-open door as Julian’s voice rose to match his brother’s.
“Aragon, please listen to me. I am not going bloody riding at the crack of dawn.”
“Your loss,” Aragon said cheerfully. “I’ll go and ask Lady Carenza. Where exactly is her room situated?”
“You’ll have to ask my housekeeper. With all the extra guests arriving, she had a struggle to fit everyone in and all my plans were overset. Now, go away. I’ll see you after breakfast.”
“Righty-ho.” Aragon went quiet for a moment. “I say, you haven’t got a woman hiding under the covers of that bed of yours, have you? Because she’ll be gasping for air by now.”
“I do not,” Julian said. “Good morning, brother.”
Carenza was still smiling when she returned to her own bedchamber and almost jumped when she disturbed a young maid laying a new fire.
“Good morning, my lady!” the girl said. “You’re up nice and early. I’ll tell Bea, shall I? Then she can bring up some water for your bath.”
Over the remaining days of the house party, Julian made a point of distancing himself from Carenza during the day, but their wild nights continued to enchant him. Every male instinct in his body was telling him to keep her close, to roar at the world in her defense, and that would never do. The thoughts were so unusual for him, that it gave him cause to doubt them. He wasn’t the kind of man who demanded such things from a sexual partner, and he wasn’t quite sure how Carenza would react if he did. The thought of her ending their relationship completely was anathema to him, and he hated that, too.
So, keeping away from her—at least during the day—was sensible, and when had he ever been anything less? He spent his time making sure his guests had plenty to do—walks around the estate, carriage rides to local attractions, and endless food. Even his mother cracked a smile occasionally, although never when she thought he was observing her.
