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His gaze met mine, and he looked betrayed. “That I cannot bear. I can’t handle knowing when he’s inside you, much less feeling how much you enjoy it. I can’t... My God, I just can’t...”
He shook his head, backing away from me. “Rationally, I know I’m being stupid. I know he’s your husband. He has every right. I have none. I’m not anything to you. This shouldn’t be eating me alive, because if you’re going to have sex with your husband, I would want you to enjoy it, but—”
“Urban,” I said in a placating voice as I reached for his wrist. But he pulled his hand away and stared at me as if I were taking a knife to him.
“How could you do this to me,” he rasped. “I worship the ground you walk on, and you make me experience it with you when you come for another man?”
“But I didn’t,” I promised, shaking my head.
His face crumpled before he said, “I know you didn’t intend it, and I’m sure you didn’t want me to feel it, and God knows I didn’t want to invade your privacy and feel it either, but—”
“No,” I murmured insistently, cupping his face in my hands so he’d focus on me. “Look at me. I didn’t. Soren didn’t come to my room last night. We were not together. Not at all.”
Urban froze, gaping at me as if I’d just spoken a foreign language.
“He hasn’t visited me in that manner since... Well, not since we learned I was pregnant with Anniston. Which was months before you ever stepped foot in Donnelly. And please don’t ever say you’re not anything to me. You’re most certainly not nothing to me. You mean quite a lot, actually. I think I might even…” Not sure if I could confess aloud just how much he meant, I looked into his eyes
and lamely repeated, “You mean a lot to me, Urban.”
Lips parting, Urban expelled a breath of relief before he faltered and insistently shook his head. “But I felt your... And it was definitely lust. You had an orgasm.” He blinked at me, baffled by what he was learning.
When I blushed hotly, he narrowed his eyes. “Wait. Who the hell were you with then if it wasn’t Soren? Dammit.” He stepped close, pointing. “I never tried to seduce you because I knew loyalty was important to you, but if you’re not going to be loyal to your husband, then you’ll be disloyal with me. No one else.”
Frowning, I smacked him on the arm. “Stop being an idiot. The only time I’ve broken loyalty with my husband is with you... In my dreams. And that is all.”
“But...” He frowned at me a moment, and my blush grew brighter. Finally, the truth hit him. “My God.” He fell back a step, gaping with shock. “You pleasured yourself.” His expression was so incredulous it would’ve made me laugh if I weren’t so embarrassed. “I didn’t even consider that.”
“Yes,” I hissed under my breath before glancing around and then adding, “I was drunk and…and… Well, you saw how I was. I just needed a little something. Some relief. Now, can we please just shut up about it?”
A wide grin overtook his face. “Yes, my lady,” he murmured cockily. “Shutting up now.” Only for him to frown and shake his head. “Except, wait. That was the first time I’ve ever felt your release. Why have I never felt it before?”
I scowled. “I’d rather know why you had to feel it in the first place.”
He bowed, looking too smug for his own good. “Because your pleasure is my pleasure, my lady. Tell me.” He shifted even closer after he straightened. “Were you thinking of me while you touched your sweet little—?”
“Don’t you dare say it,” I commanded, narrowing my eyes and pressing my lips thin, even as my insides heated with the memory of imagining he’d been there while I’d touched myself.
He grinned, even as he mimed zipping his fingers across his lips.
Sighing, I rolled my eyes. “You’re impossible.”
I turned away to leave him, because obviously, I’d done my duty and calmed his rage, but he snagged my wrist.
“No, wait.” He turned me back to face him, his grin quizzical. “You didn’t answer my question. Why was that the first time I felt it?”
I scowled right back, but he didn’t catch on, so I crossed my arms over my chest and muttered, “Why do you think?”
His brow furrowed before the truth finally hit him. “No,” he whispered, shaking his head. “No, that can’t be the first time you... My lady? Why would you deny yourself pleasure for so long?”
“That wasn’t my first time,” I mumbled, shifting uncomfortably. “It was just the first time since you’d come to the castle.” Clutching my scorching cheeks, I closed my eyes and moaned. “God, why did I just admit that to you?”
“Because who else could you admit it to?” he said simply.
I opened my lashes to stare at him, realizing something. He was right. I could tell him anything. I knew I could tell him anything, and it would be okay. I could always trust him to keep his silence with my secrets, and I could trust him to still accept me afterward. No matter how embarrassing, mortifying or awful a confession might make me look, I knew he wouldn’t think less of me. He wouldn’t judge me. His feelings for me wouldn’t waver, which gave me a peace and security I had to cherish.
My God, when had our relationship morphed into this?
No wonder why I couldn’t help but love him.
