He would worry about that later, when he was not buried inside her sweet cunny. For now, all he could do was take them to the inevitable conclusion. He wanted her to spend on his cock.
Everything in him throbbed with the urge for more. To move. And so he did, relinquishing her mouth to suck on her nipples as he thrust in and out of her hot cunny. She moaned, the low sound spurring him on.
And on.
He was so lost in her that when she reached her pinnacle, clenching on him and tremoring all around his cock in decadent quivers, he was unprepared. On a cry, he surged deeper, his own spend rushing from him before he could withdraw. White-hot pleasure ran through him as he emptied inside her, her tight walls milking him of everything he had.
He sealed their lips in another slow, maddening kiss, and then he rolled to his side, still fully dressed save for his bare cock, which glistened with a combination of her dew and his mettle. He had just experienced the single most glorious moment of his existence. But he had made a stupid, careless mistake.
Fucking hell.
Dom knew better. He had spent his life in the shadows, the bastard son of a man who reviled him and his mother both. Never would he wish to foist the same curse upon any spawn of his own. Indeed, he had done his utmost thus far to make certain there was nary a possibility of it.
What was his excuse?
How had he lost his legendary control so desperately?
She had felt so good. Too good. Tight and warm and wet. That had been part of the problem. But the other part was simplyher. There was something about this woman. Something that burrowed deep inside him, dwelling within a place he had not known existed.
A place that bloody well ought to have been turned to ash like all the rest of him.
“Forgive me,” he told her. “I should have possessed more restraint.”
Her hair was a dark halo about her lovely face. She looked flushed and sated, and the mere sight of her made him want to make love to her again. He was going to keep her here. There was no doubt. This woman washis, and when Dominic Winter saw something he wanted, he seized it.
“You need not apologize,” she told him softly—demurely. “I…enjoyed it very much.”
Floating hell, this divine creature who had somehow fallen into his gaming hell like a gift from above. What would he do with her?
Everything.
That was what he would do with her. And then he would do it again.
But first, he needed to tend to her. He rose from the bed, straightening and fastening the fall of his breeches. Then he gathered cloth, bowl, and water. When he returned, she was where he had left her, sound asleep.
A profound rush of tenderness hit him in the chest.
Then, Dominic Winter did something he had never done before.
He tucked a counterpane around his soundly sleeping lover, and he joined her on the bed, molding his body to hers. Within moments, he, too, was falling headlong into the welcoming abyss of slumber.
Part II
Chapter 6
Oxfordshire, Two months later
The day was colder than a whore’s heart.
Only a Bedlamite would have dared to travel from London on nigh impassable, snow-covered roads to the country in the midst of the most frigid winter in memory. But Dominic Winter was not mad. No, indeed.
He was instead, he thought with a nasty smile as his carriage laboriously plodded over the icy country lanes, a man with an overzealous need. Because two months ago, he had been visited in London by an angel.
And then, she had disappeared.
Devil had warned Dom he was making a grievous error in accepting the bargain with Sundenbury’s lightskirt. But Dom was oldest, and he never listened when any of his miscellany of half siblings bothered to warn him from the path he had chosen. He was the leader of this family,by Hades, and he would lead it as he saw fit.
This time, however, Devil had been right.
