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“Edmond! Are you truly soused?”
“Perhaps, Duchess.”
Then he came back over to her and she realized he held his handkerchief. He gripped her legs and tugged her to the edge of the bed, widened them, and cleaned her. A frown appeared on his brow, he shook his head, then his gaze once more traveled to her center.
“You are soft and pink here,” he murmured, tracing a finger over her exposed flesh.
She gasped, wanton heat once again stirring in her blood.
“I want to taste.”
Before she could formulate a response, he dipped his head and glided his tongue over her.
She cried out weakly, her thighs falling apart even wider at his urging. His lips covered her nub and sucked hard. Adel lost her breath. His tongue flicked over her with firm then light strokes, throwing her into an almost violent release. She quaked, panting. He did not let up, but kept sucking and licking until she writhed with bliss.
“You taste sweet…I could feast on you forever,” he said as he rose and flipped her over, drawing her to knees. Her loud cry bounded off the wall as he shoved his thick length into her in one hard move.
“I will never get enough of your taste and the feel of you in my arms.”
Desire curled through her body as his words stroked her.
“You’re stretched so tight around me,” he growled. Then he proceeded to take her with a roughness she had never experienced before, and she gloried in every pounding thrust until she fragmented under the onslaught of such ecstasy.
Provocative words of encouragement spilled from her lips, and the bed groaned under his loss of control. With a muffled shout, he found his own release, and collapsed onto the bed, twisting her so she fell atop him. Seconds later, his chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. She covered him with the blankets and snuggled down beside him in the tiny bed.
“I love you, Edmond,” she whispered.
Of course he would not respond, for her duke was fast asleep.
Adel had no idea how long she lay on the bed curved into his side, simply listening to his breathing. She shifted and her heart thudded as she felt the wet warmth of his seed pooling along the insides of her thighs. Oh, God, it is too soon. He was not ready for this.
She pushed from the bed on trembling legs, containing her wince at the tender ache between her legs. She hurriedly dressed and he did not stir. Adel quickly collected the card pack and the game. The front of her chemisette was torn, but she ensured her riding jacket covered the damage before she left the cottage, throwing on her cloak to protect her from the last raindrops of the storm. The horse was gone, she assumed it had returned to the warmth of its stables at the onset of the downpour, but Maximus was waiting by the door, his tail thumping when he saw her.
Relief filled her at his presence, and with determined strides, she walked away from the cottage and strode toward the main house, uncaring that mud splattered the hem of her riding habit. Edmond had been so passionate and natural—his caresses, his words, they had been everything she wanted to hear and everything she wanted to hold close. Adeline feared he had truly been drunk, but not insensible. What would he do when he realized he had released his seed in her?
Chapter Twenty-Two
Edmond woke with a splitting head and a curse spilling from his lips. Once again he had passed the anniversary of Maryann and his son’s death in a drunken haze. Suddenly he despised the notion of liquor and vowed then he would never imbibe to drunkenness again. He pushed from the bed and paused, heat and something elusive slithering though his veins. Something was different. He struggled to remember, and fleeting impressions of Adeline crowded his mind.
Her compassionate smile.
The storm in her eyes that darkened to passion.
Passion… Her lips parted in bliss, her body arching to him, wet heat enveloping his length.
The cottage smelled like his duchess.
He frowned and glanced around. There was nothing to indicate she had been there. He scrubbed a hand over his face as the wisp of a dream roiled though his mind. He glanced down at his flaccid cock, which seemed sticky with the release he’d obviously achieved from dreaming of Adeline.
Hell.
He was like an untired youth. But he was grateful the worst had passed. And he had some explaining to do to his wife. It was hard to explain the guilt that had stirred to know Maryann rotted in the ground, and he
was whole, healthy, and without a doubt falling in love with his new wife.
He dressed in a slow manner, mindful of his headache. A few minutes later he exited the cabin to a very dreary atmosphere. When he’d realized it would rain yesterday he had not tethered his horse so that it could return to the stables. It would rain again today. Maximus bounded over to Edmond, getting mud all over his clothes. He chuckled and hugged him around his neck, playing roughly with the great brute. They made their way to the estate, and his steps slowed when he spied Adeline and his girls strolling along a path.
Sarah spied him and with a shriek raced over. He swooped her into his arms, and placed her atop his head, as how his father had done with him many times. His daughter gripped tuffs of his hair for purchase, giggling.
