“Fuck,” he groaned.
“What was that about control?” She lifted her hips, then slammed back down, drawing another deep groan from him.
His fingers dug into her hips. “Have your fun, love. But we both know that by tonight, you’ll be begging me to bend you over.”
He wasn’t wrong. She would. As much as she relished teasing him, she loved being at his mercy even more. And the bloody devil knew it.
Finding her rhythm, she rocked against him, shifting just right so he filled her perfectly. The pleasure built swiftly, but she cursed herself for not thinking to strip him first. His shirts and coat remained in the way, denying her the sight and feel of his muscular bare chest.
“Such a good little wife,” he rasped, gripping her tighter, guiding her movements as he thrust up into her. “You ride my cock so well.”
Marina leaned in, pressing her lips to his as he took over, his grip firm, controlling, driving her faster. She moaned into his mouth as her climax crept closer, fighting to hold on, to drag out the inevitable—
But she was lost. With one final thrust, pleasure shattered through her, sharp and consuming.
“That’s it,” he growled, holding her flush against him as his cock pulsed deep inside her, his heart racing against her from his own release. His breath came in ragged groans, his lips claiming hers in a possessive kiss.
Marina melted against him, her heart still racing. “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you,” she whispered, her love for him thrumming through every inch of her.
He chuckled, tucking a loose curl behind her ear. “Good thing I had convinced you to marry me, then.”
She rolled her eyes, swatting at his chest.
“There’s my girl.” He grinned and kissed her again.
As much as she wanted to stay tangled in his arms, she had things to do to prepare for their guests to arrive in a week. With a sigh, she rose from his lap, letting his softened length slip free before smoothing her skirts back into place.
“I must go to the village today,” she said, pressing out the fabric. “I thought to take Arthur for some fresh air.”
Evan, still tucking himself back into his breeches, froze. “What? Why?”
She frowned. His reaction caught her off guard. He’d never taken issue with her going out for a bit of shopping. “To get a few things for the party. And perhaps a sweet roll.” She wouldn’t deny herself the comfort of sugar after the stress of the past few weeks.
“Send someone,” he said quickly. “You don’t need to go for yourself.”
Marina narrowed her eyes. What was the matter with him? “It’s just the village, Evan. If you’re so concerned, come with me.”
His jaw tightened. “I don’t think we should go at all when we can easily send someone in our place.”
Something was off. Folding her arms, she tilted her head—both to study him and because she knew the way it shifted her breasts would serve as a distraction. “I am going. You can come or not.”
“Marina—”
“Why, Evan?” she demanded. “Why is this an issue?” Could he know the secret she kept and wish to keep her hidden away at their estate?
Evan raked a hand down his face, glancing away. “There have been… robberies. It may not be safe.”
She blinked. “In broad daylight? Evan, come with me if you’re worried.”
His exhale was long and slow, clearly displeased. “If we go, we’re both carrying guns. And Arthur remains here.”
She gaped at him. “Are you mad?” He must be. He’d lost his damned mind. Since when did simple village errands require an armory?
His gaze flickered down—finally noticing her breasts—and she knew he must truly be worried if it had taken him that long.
“I haven’t gone mad,” he said flatly. “But I won’t take chances with your safety. Or Arthur’s.”
Marina sighed, stepping forward to cup his cheek. For all his overprotectiveness, she adored him for it. It was how he showed his love—for her, for their son. “If that is what you wish, I shall agree.”
