Page 59 of Rogue Lyon

He moved faster, steaming in and out of her, dragging her onto him as he lunged forward.

The air was pushed from Meredith’s lungs each time he hit full depth. She closed her eyes and fisted the covers. The pressure was growing in her cunny. The way he was rubbing over a hot, sensitive spot inside of her was driving her crazy with longing, with need, with the desire to hit that pinnacle of pleasure.

It crossed her mind that they were feral, like animals, rutting in a sweaty, needy, desperate way. That thought turned on the pleasure signals all the more. How frantic they were for each other, for their joining.

“Oh… Oh…don’t stop,” she gasped. “Please.”

“Are you…near?”

“Yes. Yes.” She’d shouted out the words, but she didn’t even care if they were heard. This was all that mattered. They were all that existed.

And then, as the wave of ecstasy rose inside her, she held her breath and savored the moment before it crashed through her body. She cried out, arched her back, and curled her toes.

“Argh…my goodness, I… Yes…”

He was pulsing inside her as she throbbed around him. Wet heat flooded her and she battled to catch her breath. Her entire body was shaking and perspiration popped on her brow.

He released her hips and cupped her ass cheeks as he slowed. “Meredith… I… That was…”

“Exhausting.” She flopped forward onto the bed.

Slipping from her, he dropped to her side. He laughed and blew out a breath. “Yes, you are right. It is quite the exercise. But the best form of exercise, don’t you agree?”

“I think I do.” Cool air washed over her naked ass and his release seeped from her cunny. But she couldn’t move. The total and complete satisfaction was overwhelming and she closed her eyes and sighed.

She’d sleep awhile. Regain her strength with Jules at her side, and then perhaps they’d find another new way to thrill one another.

Chapter Fourteen

It was time to leave Paris. Jules was keen to get back to London with his expensive and rare purchases. Meredith got the feeling he didn’t like them being in the same hotel as his rival, Mr. Delaware.

So they had a carriage loaded, ordered a basket of cheese, bread, and wine, and headed north late in the afternoon.

As she took one last look at the hotel, a little fist of sadness gripped her heart. It was the one place in her life she’d ever be known as a married woman. And now, that was over.

She took the fake ring off, held it up, and then tossed it from the carriage window.

“Meredith.” Jules’s gaze followed her movements. “Why did you do that?”

“It wasn’t real, and you said for one night only. It’s already done two, so it’s definitely expired.”

His mouth opened as if to say more, then he closed it again.

They sat in silence and she became lost to her memories as the sun slid from the sky.

Three days later, they arrived back in London having had separate bedrooms in the small inns en route, staff who knew her to be the apprentice of a great art dealer and not a pretend wife.

They had played chess to pass the time and discussed strategy and tactics. Jules had spoken of a trip to Rome to see the master’s work in the Sistine Chapel, and they’d played brag and cribbage with a set of cards Jules had produced.

But they hadn’t spoken of their nights together.

Not once.

In fact, they’d barely touched, apart from Jules helping her up and down from the carriage.

And now, she was outside the ladies’ entrance at the Lyon’s Den holding her small suitcase and a bottle of sultry French perfume that Jules had purchased for her. It had been very generous and thoughtful of him.

She sighed and pulled her shawl a little closer. Rain threatened and a stiff breeze came in from the west.