Page 43 of Marrying the Wrong Earl (Lords and Ladies in Love 2)

“Oh God, you feel wonderful. So tight, so warm and moist.”

By the look on his face, that was either the worst thing in the world, or the best. He fully entered her, so their bodies touched, then he began moving. The rhythm grew from enjoyable to once again frantic as she shifted so the part of her that needed attention could rub against his manhood.

Nash leaned down to mumble in her ear, “Yes, keep moving like that. I love the feel of you underneath me. Your softness against my hardness.”

Although she needed no encouragement, his words spurred her on, making her feel as though she were a wanton. A woman who enjoyed her husband’s attentions, unlike what Mother had told her. “Doing one’s duty” was just that, a duty. Yet this was certainly no duty. This was wonderful.

As she moved, the warm feelings once again started to build as Nash thrust into her, again taking her breath away.

She sighed with delight, then licked his flat nipple, causing him to suck in a deep breath through his teeth.

He grabbed her hands and pulled them over her head. Holding them both with one large hand, he used the other one to massage her breast, tweak her nipple, his hips moving in rhythm. The roughness of his palm over the softness of her skin abraded her nipples, causing heaviness in her breasts and more moisture to gather between her legs.

“You make me crazy, Arabella,” Nash whispered in her ear. “You are so warm, so soft. I can’t get enough of you.”

His muscled body, and the grip he had on her hands, anchoring her to the bed, excited her like nothing he’d done before. She looked up at him, and he stared at her, his blue eyes almost black. Blond curls fell over his forehead, urging her to brush them back, but he still held her hands.

She wanted so badly to touch him, but he held firm as he bent his head and took her mouth in a kiss that demanded her surrender. He nudged at her lips, and his tongue swept in. They tangled together, her desire to feel that wonderful sensation again rising with each stroke of his tongue.

“Oh God, sweetheart, I can’t wait any longer.” His voice was hoarse, raspy. Just as that delightful feeling started to wash over her, Nash threw his head back and shoved one last time. Warm liquid flooded her insides, but she barely noticed since she was again riding a wave of her own pleasure.

Nash collapsed on top of her, having as much trouble breathing as she was. After a few minutes of them both gasping for breath, he brushed back the damp curls from her forehead and kissed the spot he uncovered. “I hope I did not hurt you.”

“No.” She shook her head, her voice barely audible as she attempted to catch her breath.

“Good. I am afraid I was a tad eager from staying away from you, so you could sufficiently recover from your fatigue.”

Nash rolled off her and pulled her to his side. They lay together, both of them regaining their breath. The silence was comforting until she began to feel chilly. When she shivered, Nash reached down and pulled the counterpane over them, pulling her even closer against him to share his incredible warmth. He seemed to be settling in for the night.

Almost as if he’d read her mind, he said, “I had always planned to share a bed with my wife.” He looked down at her. “Do you object to that?”

Another surprise. Although he’d slept with her in the short time they’d been married, she’d assumed it was because of her illness. Had she given it thought, it would have surprised her that he wanted her by his side all night. Typical ton married couples had separate bedchambers. And beds. Indeed, the thought of curling up against Nash’s warm body in the cold nights of winter sounded appealing.

“No.” She shook her head. “I do not object at all.”

He kissed her forehead again. “Good.” His fingers drew lazy circles on her arm.

Weariness settled into her bones. “I believe I would like to sleep now. It has been a long day.” She stifled a yawn and boldly kissed him on the lips and turned her back to him, snuggling into the covers.

A strong arm came around her waist and pulled her to his body. She rather liked having him next to her in bed. She wiggled her bottom a bit to settle against him, and he moaned.

She looked over her shoulder. “Does that hurt?”

“No, Arabella. Just go to sleep.”

Chapter Fourteen

“How are my animals?” Nash groaned at the first words out of Arabella’s mouth when they entered Clarendon Townhouse. They had stayed overnight at the Duck and Swan Inn, which had left them with only three hours on the road that morning. He had pushed Arabella to rise before dawn to finish their journey. He’d been anxious to get started on his finances.

After visiting with other tenants, he had determined his money problems were easily solved by hiring a new steward.

The younger Jones had never been located, but after confirming his suspicions, he had notified the magistrate to hold him when found. He also passed the word to all tenants that there would be a new steward, and they were no longer to deal with Jones. Once he settled his affairs in London, he would go back to Suffolk and meet with the tenants as a group and get all matters, including the so-called rent increase, straightened out.

“I believe one of the footmen has been caring for them, my lady.” Quinn greeted them with his usual aplomb as he took Nash’s hat, gloves, and cane.

“Thank you.” Arabella hurried to the back of the house.