And Christ, he wanted to.Neededto, almost.
“Yes.Please.”
He slid out of her, only a little, and then back again.She hummed—actuallyhummed—in approval.
“That-that feels good.”
“I—am—glad.”
Malcolm was at the very edge of his self-control.His vision darkened, and his hands gripped the bedsheets.Her sweet tightness on his cock was more than anyone should be expected to bear without spilling.
He withdrew again, further this time, and then edged back in.She gasped and tightened her grip on his shoulders.His cock sang in appreciation.Near-ruinous appreciation.
“Again,” she breathed.“Oh my, that is divine.”
He repeated the motion again and then once more.He remained on a perilous brink, moaning incoherently above her, but somehow staved off his spend.He supposed he was capable because of how much pleasure she seemed to take in the act.
“Dear God, Scarlett, you are sweet,” he murmured, as he plunged into her deeper, finding even more purchase.
“I am close.Don’t stop.Please.Please.”
It took everything in him to obey.His heart thundered in his chest.
But he kept going, giving her what she asked for.
Then she was crying out beneath him, and he knew he could waste no time.
He withdrew, already beginning to climax.He coated her core and thighs in a copious spend that seemed, for one suspended moment, endless.
“That was wonderful—” She gasped.
And at that exact moment, a knock sounded on the door.
Chapter Twenty-Six
It had beenthe maid, of course.
She had heard Scarlett crying out, she claimed, and worried she had hurt her ankle again.
Scarlett had answered the door, only opening it a tiny crack so that the girl could not see into the room, and told her that she had only had a nightmare.
An ironic excuse, really.Scarlett had never been so awake.
After that, Malcolm had left as quickly and discreetly as possible.
That had been three days ago now.She had seen him since, at dinner and on excursions with the rest of the party, but they had quietly agreed it was too risky to meet in their rooms like that again.Not with the maid still in attendance.
The maid didn’t seem like a naturally suspicious girl; rather, just good-natured and irritatingly diligent when it came to her duties.
Scarlett would have preferred to repeat her experience with Malcolm again, of course, but she also needed the time to process what had occurred.She had expected to enjoy bedding him, but she hadn’t anticipated the extent.The way he had fit inside her, the way he had made herfeel.Lying with him—before, during, and after their coupling—was the most intimate, pleasurable experience of her life.And it made her sad to think of how seldom it could be repeated.She didn’t even know if they would be able to find the privacy to be together again during the few remaining days of the house party.
She had learned so much about Mr.Malcolm Brown.It had surprised her that he also thought he would never marry.He did not think himself capable of making a woman happy.The irony, of course, was she thought his wife would be one of the luckiest women in England.More than once, she had found herself regretting that her courseshadarrived.Would she still reject his offer of marriage if he made it now?Even if it were just a matter of honor to him?Would she have the strength to deliver thatnoshe had once given him?She had her doubts.
“Scarlett?”She turned toward Tilly’s voice.
She was in Tilly and Vera’s room, preparing for the ball that was to be held tonight.Vera, however, was convalescing in a private parlor that Mrs.Salisbury had made over for her exclusive use.Vera often wanted to lie in a quiet, dark space, and their room here was very bright.
The ball tonight was to be, of course, the crown jewel of their entertainment at Parkhorne Hall, as balls always were at house parties.It marked that only seven days remained and that it was drawing to a close.Mrs.Salisbury had invited all her friends and acquaintances from the surrounding neighborhood, so it would approach something like the smaller balls they attended in London.
