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Adel stirred, her lashes lifted, and as simple as that, he wanted to drown himself inside of her kisses, her laughter, her body. It disturbed Edmond that he had never felt such an intensity of feeling with Maryann. He had loved her, he had been certain, but the emotions had always been tempered with gentleness and an awareness of her demure nature. Even how he had made love with her had been different.
Last night he had turned Adel onto her stomach, and had crawled over her, stuffed a cushion underneath her and rode her for what seemed like hours. They had frolicked in the massive bathtub, and he had even taken her there, then against the wall. Hell. Adel made him feel raw, desperate, and he made no effort to hold back his passion, or be mindful of her sensibilities. With Maryann, they had always been under the covers, and the one time he had thought to seduce her in the library, she had been beyond mortified. Yet their union had always been sweet and wonderful.
“What has you frowning so?” Adel asked her voice husky with sleep…and desire.
He scrubbed a hand over his face, certain she would push him from the bed if he admitted he was comparing her with his deceased wife, and worse, coming to the more alarming conclusion that Adel made him feel with more intensity. Which placed him on dangerous grounds because if he lost her… The thought wasn’t even to be contemplated. Had he been certain he had expelled each time outside of her body? His heart lurched. They had reached for each other so many times during the long night.
He tugged the coverlets from her body.
“Edmond, what are you doing? It is cold!”
He clasped her hips and drew her across the silken sheets to him. She gasped when he nudged her legs apart with one of his feet and placed his fingers against her core.
Her entire body blushed. “Edmond!”
“I am amazed you are still capable of blushing, Duchess.”
She scowled up at him.
He stroked a finger deep inside of her…and only felt her heat and wetness. No, he had not released his seed in her.
“What are you doing?” she hissed, narrowing her eyes, slapping his arm away.
“I am ensuring I did not release inside of you.”
Awareness dawned in her eyes and she lowered her lids, but he saw the spark of anger.
“Look at me.”
Her lips flattened mutinously.
“Duchess.”
Anger brought beguiling color to her cheeks. She shoved him, and tried to scuttle away, and he tugged her back with more force than he’d intended.
“Oomph” slipped from her as she collided into the wall of his chest.
Immediately his fingers were bathed in liquid heat.
They both froze. She was aroused by his roughness, and the very idea had his cock twitching.
“Remove your hands,” she growled. “This is unseemly!” Her cheeks were so red, it was as if they wore rouge.
He removed his fingers from her core, placed another digit under her chin and lifted her head to meet his eyes. He could see the anger, the frustration, the arousal, and the embarrassment in the depth of her gaze. “Never be embarrassed for your passions.”
She arched an imperious brow, and hauteur descended on her lovely features. “I was certainly not embarrassed.”
“Good.” Then he pressed a kiss to her brow.
“But I am angry you thought to check if you had released in me. Would it truly be so bad to have a child?”
He buried his face in her hair.
“Edmond?”
“Maryann died in childbirth.”
“I know.”
