by Ava Stone
He swept her weightlessly into his arms. “Your wish is my command.”
Many months later, Lillian studied her husband’s sensual profile as he dressed for the theatre. Dark tendrils of hair curled around his forehead and his full lips curved in a smile while he tried to tie his cravat. He growled in frustration. “I can feel you watching me.”
She leaned up on her elbow, the silken sheets of their bed gliding across the bare skin of her arm. “Let me help you.”
“All right.” He swung towards her, his eyes glittering with a dangerous desire she adored.
She scrambled to her knees and picked up the pillow beside her. “No, you don’t. We’ve no time for another romp. Your grandfather will be livid if we miss meeting him at the theatre again.”
Nick slid off the cravat he’d been tying, and whipped his shirt over his head. His taut belly made her stomach flutter as it did every time she saw his flesh. He came to the bed and knelt before her to run a finger over her breast. He swirled his finger around her nipple until she couldn’t hold back her moan.
“Nick.” She wasn’t sure if she was going to tell him to stop or beg him to continue.
“Hmm?” Leaning over her, he nuzzled her neck with his lips and then moved lower to lick one breast and then the other. Unable to hold back her desire, she tossed the pillow aside and threw her head back as he sucked on her nipple. A hot ache grew inside her, and decision made, she raked her nails up his back and delved her hands into his hair to press him closer. She no longer gave a fig that the duke would be mad, or that as the owner of the theatre she really should be at the opening night of the most talked about play in Town.
“Don’t stop. Miss Lloyd can handle the opening and your grandfather.”
When Nick stopped, exactly as she’d just instructed him not to, she glared at him. He grinned. “Have I told you how brilliant I think you are for hiring her as your theatre manager?”
Lillian wiggled onto her back and crooked a finger. In a flash, Nick loomed over her, the heat of his body caressing her. “You’ve told me how brilliant I am for hiring her every time we miss an opening.” Lillian giggled. She couldn’t help it. Irresponsible or not, she was too happy to care, and Miss Lloyd really could handle everything.
Nick bent and lavished kisses on her from her neck all the way to her belly. When he was between her legs, he gently spread her thighs and slowly stroked her core. She writhed underneath him, arching to press closer towards his mouth.
His tongue moved faster, causing blood to surge from her center to the tips of her toes and her fingertips. Inside, a familiar pulsing need built. His strokes slowed to a sensual pace that made her cry out. “Faster. Dear God, faster.”
He chuckled, sliding his tongue over her sensitive flesh and then blowing on it to cool it. The teasing excited her to the point she thought she may burst from wanting release. “Nicholas.” Her ragged word was a warning and a plea. He rose over her, gripped her bottom and lifted her towards him. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pressed her hands against his solid thighs.
Their gazes locked, as their breathing came in unison. He squeezed her buttocks. “How is it possible I want you more every time I take you? I don’t think my need will ever lessen.”
She pulled on his neck until his mouth found hers. His tongue tickled her lips, and then he crushed his mouth against hers in a demanding kiss that left her panting. When he retreated, she shivered with delight. “Prove to me your need hasn’t lessened. Show me how desirable I am.”
He yanked her legs higher and plunged into her with one long, delicious stroke. He slid in and out in a rhythm that left her dizzy with yearning. As if he could read what she didn’t say, he moved faster, his movements coming harder, until her teeth clenched and she raked at his backside while struggling to hold off a bit longer.
The slide of his flesh against hers was too much to bear. The pressure built and her body coiled inward with need. Small waves of pleasure rolled from her core outward until the pleasure was deliciously painful. She shuddered again and again, her heart hammering, her senses reeling.
A ragged grunt came from him, and he curled his fingers harder into her flesh, holding her in place as his body tensed and his warm seed spilled inside her. His sweat-slicked body came down over her, their hearts pounding together in the silence. After a time, he rolled to his side and brought her with him into the cocoon of his arm. Her limbs felt too heavy to move, but she had a confession to make. She cleared her throat, moved towards his chest and toyed with the springy hair there.
He settled a large hand over hers. “What is it, my love?”
“I hope we made a child tonight. I know you need an heir, and I don’t want to ever disappoint you.” She’d not voiced her fear out loud yet. Three months of lovemaking and nary a child. “What if I’m barren?”
“I wouldn’t care.” He caressed her head. “You’re all I want. All I need. Anything more is a boon to a life I’d given up on.”
Happiness burst within her. “I love you.”
“And I you.” His voice was drowsy.
A warm glow flowed through her. She had a life she’d never thought possible and the man beside her was the reason. She snuggled into Nick. He loved her, cherished her and valued her. At last, she had a true family.
Julie Johnstone is a best-selling author of Regency Romance. She’s been a voracious reader of books since she was a young girl. Her mother would tell you that as a child Julie had a rich fantasy life made up of many different make believe friends. As an adult, Julie is one of the lucky few who can say she is living the dream by working with her passion of creating worlds from her imagination. When Julie is not writing she is chasing her two precocious children around, cooking, reading or exercising. Julie loves to hear from her readers. You can send her an email at [email protected] or find her at www.juliejohnstoneauthor.com, or on Facebook at juliejohnstoneauthor or at twitter @juliejohnstone.