Page 33 of Truly, Madly, Daring

“I know,” she said, relaxing at his words, trusting him as she breathed through the shock of it and the discomfort gave way to other sensations.

She wrapped her arms around him, delighting in how solid he was, how strong, his frame enveloping hers in the best way. Slowly, he moved, and Emmeline gripped his arms hard as the sensation shifted from discomfort to a peculiar acceptance.

“Oh,” she said as he eased inside her once more, her body becoming accustomed to his presence. “Oh.”

“Is that good, pet?”

Emmeline gave a little cry and wrapped her legs tighter around him. “Y-Yes,” she said, eyes wide now as she relaxed into the pleasure of it.

Wrexham sighed and kissed her again and Emmeline lost herself in the moment, in him, her husband, this extraordinary man she was determined to know inside and out.

“So sweet,” he whispered, touching her with such reverence she felt loved and cherished, no matter if that were an illusion.

She did not know what went on in his well-guarded heart, but in this moment there was tenderness and a genuine desire to please her and that was enough for now. She wanted more, she wanted everything, every piece of his heart, but she could wait. He raised his hand to her mouth and traced the shape of her lips and Emmeline kissed his fingers, nipping at the pads. He smiled at her.

“Open your mouth,” he told her, and when she did slid a finger past her lips. Instinctively, she closed her mouth over it and sucked and Wrexham’s breath hitched.

“Lord, I shall remember that,” he said, his lips quirking as he withdrew his hand and slid it down her body, moving to seek the place between her thighs that had yielded so dramatically to his tongue yesterday. He teased her with the slick finger, touching lightly as he loved her, carefully stoking the fire he had lit until she was hot and restless, almost frantic with need.

“Wrexham,” she pleaded.

“I know, pet,” he soothed, his voice like dark silk. “Be patient. You’ll have your way, for I cannot last much longer. You feel too good, so good, and my control is unravelling.”

That pleased her more than she cared to consider, the idea of a man like this losing control because of her. Though she knew herself to be pretty—not that her husband could see her—but she had never considered herself the kind of woman that men lost their wits over. With Wrexham, though, the way he touched her, the things he said… he made her feel desirable, powerful, and more at home in her own skin than she ever had before.

The touch of his hand on that tiny nub of flesh became firmer, more insistent, and then he ducked his head and closed his mouth over her breast, suckling hard. Emmeline threw her head back as the climax hit hard and fast, stealing any semblance of control. She cried out, the shocking sound ringing in her ears but not stopping her from shouting again, unable to stop the raw cry of pleasure as it tore from her. Her body seemed no longer her own, but his, under his control as he sent her spiralling into the sweet, bright dark where little explosions glittered against a black velvet sky.

“Christ,” Wrexham murmured and sucked in a breath, his body growing taut, and he jerked away from her. His sudden withdrawal made her exclaim with shock and disappointment, swiftly followed by fascination as he took himself in hand. Emmeline watched with rapt attention as his powerful frame spasmed. He let out a coarse exclamation that shocked her but was immediately forgotten with the sudden splash of heat over her belly as he spilled his seed upon her skin, making her gasp.

He didn’t move for a moment, his breathing harsh and uneven, his beautiful skin flushed and damp. Emmeline simply stared, drinking in the sight of him.

“I’m sorry,” he said, gruff now. “I… I ought to have warned you. Are you horribly shocked?”

Emmeline tried to smother her bark of laughter, but was not entirely successful. “N-Not at all shocked,” she managed.

His eyebrows drew together. “Are you laughing at me?”

“No! No,” she said firmly. “It’s only… I wasn’t shocked in the least, Wrexham. I… liked watching you.”

She bit her lip at the obvious surprise she saw on his face.

“I beg your pardon, my lord. I’m not what you expected, am I?” she asked, suddenly concerned she had been too honest. She was supposed to be an innocent girl. She was supposed to be horrified by such intimacies, though how that did anyone any good she had never understood.

“Indeed, you are not,” he said, and her heart thudded anxiously when she could not read his tone. “You are a constant surprise, Miss Milly.”

“I’m sorry,” she offered..

He frowned at that. “Whyever would you be sorry? I’m not.”

“You’re not?” Her lips quirked upwards as he shook his head.

“Marrying you was the most sensible decision I ever made in my life. How on earth did I persuade you into it? You’re quite marvellous, you know.”

“Am I?” she asked shyly, delighted by his words.

He leaned closer, and she met him halfway, sighing as he pressed a soft kiss to her mouth.

“Quite, quite marvellous,” he murmured against her mouth. “Thank you.”