The incoherent words, moans, and lurches started again the moment he kissed her deeply. If she enjoyed it, he could go on allnight. He added a finger just because he wanted to feel her velvet squeezing around him.
She writhed and trashed on the bed until she let out a piercing cry that, without a shadow of a doubt, Enright, Mrs. Lawrence, the maid, and the footman must have heard. But who cared? He would never ask her to be quiet. Quite the opposite. He wanted her wild and unrestrained.
He kissed her inner thighs and moved up her body, pausing to suck her nipples again.
She lay on the bed, her arms spread and her eyes shining.
“Did you like it?” He caressed her hair.
A strangled noise came out of her.
“What?” he asked.
She nodded.
He covered her with a quilt and gathered her in his arms. She sagged against him, likely exhausted. His own desire roared with desperation, but he was happy to hold her and give her the comfort she needed now. He rubbed her back.
“You’re the most wonderful thing that has ever happened to me. I hope you will marry me, and not simply because it’s practical, but because I can’t think of anyone better than you to share my life with. No, sorry, that sounded terrible.” He chuckled. “I mean, I really want you to be my wife.” That was hardly better, but at least he’d been clear. He waited for her to say something, but she remained silent, her head on his chest. “Did I shock you?”
Not a word.
“Angeline?” He craned his neck to see her face.
Her eyes were closed, and her breathing came out softly. His angel had fallen asleep.
