His features were a mask, severe and cruel in the candlelight, but his lips were tender, his hands supple as they stroked over her skin.
And then he thrust in earnest.
Steadied on forearms, he began a rugged heavy rhythm. It obliterated all thought, all speech, as searing aching need spread throughout.
She scratched that need into his back and he bucked under her touch, acceding to her wishes and pounding with unrelenting pace.
Pleasure engulfed her once more, but this time ecstasy rippled in long waves, endless as he continued his raw act of possession. She cried his name, sensation hurtling through bone, blood and skin, feeling turned inside out.
A kiss took her, a rough ferocity, but no sooner was her mouth captured, it ended and fierce eyes stared down, his movements wild and relentless.
“Aideen, I need…”
His jaw gritted, and cursing, he buried his face in her neck, hips now driving in savage short jabs. A guttural roar echoed the room as he convulsed, body heaving and slick. Aideen scraped her fingers down over his buttocks and another low moan left his throat.
She wished she’d been able to see his face as he’d found his pleasure but would be content with his shaking body and coarse whispers of passion.
Her own body felt so wonderfully malleable and floppy beneath his, as though made of dough, and when he finally rolled, she made no fuss as he hauled her close, stroking her hair.
Alexander’s chest heaved, and she drew a finger down the line of hair, delighting in the tremor it produced.
Closing her eyes, she wondered how she would feel seeing his face on the pillow tomorrow morning?
Tenderness? Contentment… Love?
But her exhausted body didn’t care for such fanciful sentiment and her thoughts drifted away as she fell into slumber.
∞∞∞
The leaden dawn awoke Rakecombe, and he peered at the shutterless window with annoyance.
Where the blazes–
A soft breathing stirred the air and he realised his shoulder was numb. Not unusual as his old wound still gave him gyp, but this time, the cause was a dark-haired siren.
He swiped a hand over his face. Hell, and he thought himself a master of control. All had been well until he’d heard his name on her lips.
The slow lilt had sent desire streaking throughout, including the portion of his brain responsible for restraint, and if she ever found out what that lilt did to him, it didn’t bear thinking about. She’d have him twisted around her little finger.
Murmuring from the corridor distracted him: the maids beginning their duties. He had to leave. If he stayed, he would take her again.
It had happened once more in the night. He’d awoken to soft buttocks brushing his groin, his hand on her breast, her breathing fast, and he hadn’t been able to resist. Caresses had become secondary as he’d plunged his body into hers, and she’d been so ready…
But that was yesterday.
Today, he had to implement the plan and although they would be required to meet for the procreation of an heir, it would be better to keep some distance for a while, to let the blood cool. One night was all he would allow himself for a period of time.
And without doubt, he did need to double his efforts to find this traitor. Informants’ lives depended on it.
Aideen Quinl– Or rather the Duchess of Rakecombe was a distraction he must avoid – for everyone’s safety.
Briefly, he wondered what his sister would have made of his new wife. He had a feeling she would have approved, would have liked Aideen’s boldness and total disdain for his arrogant ways.
But his sister wasn’t here. Her joy silenced forever. And whose fault was that?
No one’s but his.
Honesty, he’d decided all those years ago, was the better option with his family, so they could be aware and alert to the dangers which followed men such as himself. Additional guards for the house, vigilance with strangers and caution in speech would keep everyone safe. But he hadn’t counted on Gwen’s–
