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“My heir.” He repeated firmly.
“My bastard.” She insisted. They weren’t married!
“My heir, even if I have to carry you to the church tied and gagged!”
“I’ll shake my head, saying no!” She stated doggedly.
He snaked his arm around her still slim waist. Their eyes merged and dived in each other for a long time. “Indomitable witch!”
“Despotic devil!” She devolved, offering her lips up for him to kiss.
When he kissed her, they forgot all about their disagreement. The kiss was lust, longing, sorrow, fire, touch. He gathered her closer, deepened the caress and she matched him in every single manner. They clung to each other until they had to come up for air. He released her kneeling before her, taking her hand.
“Lady Selene Rockfield, please give me the honour of becoming my wife.”
She looked down at him, a solemn expression in his clove eyes turned up to her. Her throat tightened, her tears ill hidden. She had no more strength to refuse him. Not now that she’d realised she loved him. She was all wrong for him, in every possible way. How could she resist? She craved him body and heart. He’d proposed so many times. He might stop doing that. What a shame it would be to refuse since she felt what she felt for him. Now, she had to think about her child, too. Who knows she could love him and find happiness in that, even if he didn’t love her.
She nodded, smiling faintly. “Yes, Your Grace.”
He smiled. Oh dear, he smiled. Her heart melted. That big man knelt before her, smiling. This had to be the happiest moment of her life. Still kneeling, he embraced her by her waist and dived his face in her abdomen, cherishing the life that grew there. She held his head, merging her fingers in his sleek dark hair.
She reached for his hand; he stood up. She took him to her bedroom. In bed, they undressed each other; naked, they embraced, their whole bodies touching, her hands hovered over his strong big frame, sensing his smell, his warmth. She cradled him between her bent knees, revelling in him.
He lifted his head and looked at her, lit by the fire in the fireplace. “I am all muddy and sweat from the journey.” He excused himself.
“The smell of you turns me on.” She admitted a tad shyly.
“Is that so?” He asked smug, as his hand voyaged from her waist to her breast, temptingly. “Hm, it’s bigger, more delicious.” Holding it, he took it in his mouth.
The pleasure felt so agonisingly melting she contorted in delight. “It’s more sensitive, too.”
“It’ll take less to seduce you then.” Naughty, he did it again.
“As if you had a hard time.” She breathed a laugh. “Oh!” She moaned with his touch.
Her reaction seemed to fuel him. They stared at each other, enthralled. “God, Selene, I need you now!”
In response, she opened more for him, arching when he joined their bodies.
A long time afterwards, Selene remembered to tell him about her half-brother.
“I am not surprised.” His hand hovered over her back, as she lay on his chest.
“With this I’m even more unsuitable for you.” She caressed his shoulder, feeling the ripples of muscle. “A brother with unpaid debts.”
“No, you aren’t.” His tone vehement. “You are and will be a Rockfield.”
“Never mind this is another scandal.” She said stoically.
“I don’t care about what others think. They’ll get used to us.” Finality in this.
“In my half-mourning?” She lifted her head eyeing him under her lashes.
“Well, yes!” He didn’t blink. “It’s this or you marrying me far gone with my heir.”
“We don’t know it’s a boy!”
“I don’t care. It’s my blood and will be legitimate.”
