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“Please, David, please.” Amalia half cried, half moaned the words and made another swivel with her bottom, right against him, and as if by magic, the doubts and voices and longing was gone, replaced by need and lust and her, only her.
He did as she asked, setting the pace, filling her and withdrawing, only to thrust into her, giving them each the union, the joinder, again and again.
In mere moments, he’d thrown his head back, crying out her name as everything, even the danger and the party, faded away so there was only the two of them—together, in the house, as they were, but new and different and better. Full circle, but so much more.
David managed to move one hand around to stroke her, willing himself to memorize the desire—desire for him so apparent in every one of her features. Amalia’s nails dug into his shoulders, marking him as her entire body stiffened before she clenched around him once more, her heavy lashes fanning as she squeezed her eyes shut and moaned.
Her reaction was all his body needed to lose any semblance of control. His hips rose off the mattress and everything that was him poured into her as her muscles milked his cock, almost taking his soul with his come.
They collapsed against each other, skin to skin.
“Shh,” he whispered. “It’ll be all right.”
She nodded and mumbled something unintelligible, her face still on his shoulder. He brushed her silky nut-brown curls, arranging them so they were neat once more. After all, she’d not like anyone to think she was messy.
David kissed the side of
her neck as he rubbed her back. “There you are.” He kissed her forehead. “That was beautiful. You’re beautiful.”
Amalia pulled back and stared into his face, her lips pursed as if she was searching for something. He grabbed his handkerchief from the bedside table and dabbed as carefully as he could so not to ruin her cosmetics.
“Thank you,” she said, as he finished and tucked the article in the pocket of his jacket, which he’d hung on the bedpost. He shifted her a little so she could still cling to him as he eased off the condom.
“It’s nothing.” He planted another soft kiss on her neck, and then another and another as he moved them both to the edge of the bed so they could dress once more. At least he enjoyed the gown. She needed more of these necklines.
“No, thank you for...that, and for everything. For being here and for being you.” She ran her hand through his hair, tickling his scalp and neck. God, that was good, so good. The tingles she sent through his spine when she did that were everything, enough to make him ready to go again, however ill-advised.
“Who else would I be?” he managed to say. He caught her wrist and brought it to his mouth, sucking on the area where glove met flesh. “And there’s no person I’d rather be with and no place I’d rather be than in your bed.”
God help him, that was true.
“Same,” she whispered and laid her head against his shoulder. The two sat in silence, on the floor, her long skirts blanketing his legs. “David?” she finally asked, lifting her head to meet his eye once more.
He swallowed at the catch in her voice. “What?”
Amalia reached up and stroked his beard before tracing his lips for a moment. It was his turn to suck on her finger. He couldn’t help himself. She giggled a little, before moaning. She closed her eyes for a moment, and, to his immense pride, had to grit her teeth before pulling herself free.
“I’m serious.” She pouted a little, before her eyes and lips softened as she stared at him again. “I...um... I just wanted to say...”
David started. A noise. He placed a hand over her lips. “Wait, did you hear that?”
Voices, muffled, but growing louder and footsteps, close, ascending the stair and stopping, not at the study, but right outside the door. A knocking rattled the frame.
“Amalia. I know you’re in there. Everyone does.”
Thad.
David shuddered.
“Get dressed.” The door jiggled. “We’re waiting in the other room for you. We want to beat you in poker, and, well, Father wants to do a different sort of beating when it comes to David and making him wait will only make him angrier.”
The two stared at each other again, opened their mouths and dissolved into ill-advised giggles. They were in such trouble. Hopefully, Thad hadn’t inherited his skills with weaponry from his father.
Chapter Twenty-Five
David picked at his fingernails while Amalia bit hers. Jonah was probably more comfortable inside the whale. Somehow, not only were they caught, but they permitted Thad to herd them into Mr. Truitt’s study to play cards. Well, Amalia was playing cards. He was working, or pretending to work at least, mulling over papers instead of meeting any of her relatives’ gazes. Though he couldn’t help taking small peeks around the game table.
Thad kept covering his mouth with his hand and making odd hog-like noises every time he glanced at his sister. Jay Truitt glowered from behind his cards, which was better than he deserved. The man did indeed take a swing at him when he and Amalia emerged from the room, but his wife had caught his arm. After a few harsh whispers, Jay had been calmed down enough to sit. And only pound his fists against the table every so often.
