Page 74 of An Inconvenient Vow

Sabina slid her hand up his shoulder to his neck. “Don’t you want that Jeffree?” she asked with as much sweetness as she could muster. He shuddered, then stopped trying to hold himself in check. He drove his hips forward, forging into her.

Sabina muffled her surprised groan of pleasure by slapping the back of her hand over her mouth. Jeffree glowered down at her. “Put it back. Hold onto me,” he demanded, and only when she replaced her hand at his neck would he move again.

“Jeffree,” Sabina moaned, arching her back to meet his increasingly forceful strokes. He swore again. Really, he had a surprisingly foul mouth when it came to lovemaking. Sabina wondered at the fact she was not offended. Miles had certainly tempered his language when the two of them were alone together. Jeffree seemed to be the opposite way around. Still, that did not explain why she found the filthy curses so stimulating when they fell from his lips.

“Yes Jeffree,” she gasped. “Like that.” He obliged with another firm buck of his hips but was disappointingly silent. “Keep talking to me. I want to hear your voice.”

His grunts punctuated his thrusts. “What do you expect me to say to you?”

“Whatever you will,” Sabina gasped. “I care not, save that I hear it.”

Jeffree groaned. “I cannot think straight,” he admitted in a choked voice. “I can barely string two thoughts together, not when…”

“When what?” she pressed breathlessly.

He swallowed. “When we are one like this,” he groaned, falling forward and resting his weight on his forearms. “I do not want to finish and yet…” He gasped and closed his eyes. “I cannot stave it off any longer.” He shuddered and lowered his head so that his brow rested against hers and she realized what his low, harsh moan betokened. Jeffree de Crecy had come apart in her arms.

Sabina lay still beneath him as she caught her breath again. For a moment she had almost thought she was going to reach a second peak which would be unprecedented in her experience. It had been surprisingly enjoyable being swived by Jeffree, she marveled silently. Perhaps there were some perks to being Lady de Crecy after all.

After a moment of heavy panting, Jeffree bestirred himself to roll off her and onto his side. He did so with an almost flattering expression of reluctance on his face and lay contemplating her in stunned silence. Sabina made shift to muster some modesty and cover her flushed body with the bedcovers. “I think you are always going to call me madam, on occasions,” she remarked to cover any awkwardness. Jeffree’s head moved slightly, but he did not answer.

Sabina turned her head to look at where he lay panting. Of course, he would hardly know that this was where he was supposed to praise and reassure her. Not with his having never partaken in bed-sport before. If anything, she thought struck by the notion, she supposed she must be the one to adopt that role now.

He must have become aware of her scrutiny, for he lifted his eyes from her cleavage to look at her, a slightly self-conscious look on his face. “What is it??” he mumbled abruptly. “Tell me.”

Sabina hesitated. “Usually, in the aftermath, bedpartners will have some speech between them,” she admitted.

“Speech?”

“Such as… Attempting to comfort one another.”

“Comfort?” he sounded bewildered.

“Or… praise,” Sabina suggested. She remembered her late husband’s easy caresses and empty words. Bedpartners must have been interchangeable to him, she thought. Likely he gave them all the same compliments.

“Such as?”

As usual, thoughts of Miles had already soured her to the topic, so she shook her. “It was just a notion. Forget I said anything.” She shut her eyes to enjoy a pleasant doze.

“Are you in need of comfort?” Jeffree asked after a moment’s tense silence.

“No,” she replied truthfully.

“Very well, then I will hear your words of praise now,” he decided, robbing Sabina of speech.

She opened her eyes and looked at him. “You want my praise?”

He shrugged a tanned shoulder, his blue gaze scrupulously avoiding her own. “Did I not say so?”

For a moment, the crazy idea crossed Sabina’s mind that his nonchalance might mask something else. She regarded him with a faint pucker between her brows. Nay, that could not be the case. For when was Sir Jeffree de Crecy ever insecure about himself? “What about my praise?” she asked feeling suddenly irritable.

He snorted. “Have you forgotten, woman? I have naught to compare you with, good or bad.”

There it was. The customary arrogance. It was never far away when it came to this husband of hers. Still, in her current relaxed state, it did not irritate her as much as it should. Sabina sighed and considered their frenzied coupling impartially. “You are well-equipped to please a woman,” she admitted. “And with time I am sure you will do so.”

Jeffree’s face turned a dull red. “That is your praise?” He sounded stung. “Gods, if that’s the case, madam, then I would hate to receive your criticism!” He scowled and rolled away from her, showing her his back.

Sabina bit the side of her mouth. Had she hurt his feelings? “Nay, husband, I intended no criticism…” Her words trailed off. “You are handsome of face and well-formed of limb and full pleasing to look upon. I am sure you are well aware of this.”