“It seemed pretty good to me,” she said mildly.
“Pretty good! Pretty good!” he expostulated in mock indignation. “I’ll have it known it can be a lot better than that!”
She laughed. “I’m only teasing. It was wonderful.” She rolled toward him and traced patterns on his chest.
He looked down and seized her hand and kissed it. “Youare wonderful,” he said softly. “Are you sore?”
She rubbed her thighs together feeling the moisture seeping out of her.His seed. I could be with child soon...The thought made her heart skip a beat. She had never thought she would have the chance to have children of her own. She swallowed and said, “Not really. I just feel a bit swollen and very wet!”
“I’ll fetch you a cloth,” he said leaping out of bed and fetching the cloth for her before she could protest. His propensity to wait on her was as startling as his consideration between the sheets. The governess was not used to such things. Annis Fitzgerald, Lady Ashford, would have to get used to it, she supposed with a little sigh of contentment.
Chapter Eighteen
Annis woke thenext morning to her husband plastered to her like a limpet. He was wrapped round her tighter than a cloak, his arm across her belly, his knees tucked into the back of hers and his face buried in the back of her neck. He snuffled when she moved and tightened his arm round her, pulling her back into his chest.
She sighed, smiling and stroking the hairs on his arm.
“That tickles,” he said.
She turned her head and twisted round to face him. “Do you realize you sleep-hug?” she said.
He smiled lazily. “Is that a variation of sleepwalking?”
“Yes. Every time I wake up, you’re wrapped round me tighter than a boa constrictor. I’m not complaining, though. I like it,” she hastened to add with a softening smile.
“Good, because I don’t plan to stop,” he said. Then he added, “I don’t even know that I could. I’m not aware that I’m doing it. I’ve been waking up hugging pillows for the past four months,” he admitted a little sheepishly.
Her heart melted, and she slid closer, wrapping her arms round him and kissing his nose.
“Well, I’m here now. You don’t have to hug the pillows.”
“You’re far better than a pillow,” he said kissing her. “Let me show you,” he said diving under the covers.
She squeaked when his mouth landed on her belly and blurted, and she giggled and shrieked helplessly when he tickled her.
“Emrys, stop!” she begged breathlessly between giggles.I have never giggled in my life! What would Mama say to me behaving with such abandon?
He did stop, but then he did something else that extracted a different kind of noise from her. His mouth moved lower, and his lips and tongue made her groan.
“Emrys . . .” she said faintly.
A little while later she was limp and breathless as he sat up looking pleased with himself and wiped his face on the sheets.
His cock jutted out from his groin, large and pink as he knelt looking at her.
She sat up on her elbow to get a better look at it in its fully engorged glory. She put out a hand. “May I?” she asked, shocked at her own boldness, but she wanted to touch and feel it. Stroke it.
He nodded. “Go ahead. It won’t bite, but I don’t guarantee it won’t leak.” He smirked.
She stroked it with a tentative finger, and he gasped. It was hot to the touch and when her fist closed around the shaft, she found it silky smooth, the skin so soft it almost felt like velvet. A velvet-encased, hot, iron shaft, with a bulbous head peeking through a hood of skin.
“Annis, that feels very good,” he said, his voice gravelly and strained.
She looked up at his face which had taken on that twisted grimace he got when most aroused.
“Can I make you come?” she asked and squashed the outraged voice squawking in the back of her head.
“Yes, very easily,” he said, his growly voice making something inside her hum. “You know I made myself come withmy hand thinking of you lots of times,” he said lying down beside her, so she could continue to stroke him.
