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He wanted to come inside Abigail. Wanted to finish deep in her, mark her as his in the most animal way possible. But that was impossible, would cause more problems than it solved—and bringing himself to climax in front of Abigail, with her eyes trained on his cock and her pillow lips half-open in a soft, breathless sigh, was beautiful enough in itself.
‘Fucking hell.’ He couldn’t stop the blasphemy, couldn’t stop the beast in him from coming out. He tugged at his cock with quick, frenzied strokes, more aroused with every breath Abigail took in front of him. ‘God help me.’
He spurted once, then again, onto the base of Abigail’s stomach. A fierce storm of pleasure ripped through Marcus; he had no breath, no reason, barely even a body anymore. And when Abigail reached out and delicately stroked the slick, sensitive head of Marcus’ cock, the rush of bliss was so intense that it bordered on pain.
‘Oh, you.’ Marcus couldn’t say anything else. If he tried to speak again, he would say something unwise; you are meant for me, never leave me, I love you. ‘Oh, Abigail.’
He couldn’t leave her dirty. Marcus reached for the pristine linen handkerchief he always kept in the pocket of his discarded waistcoat, licked one corner of it, and gently removed every trace of their lovemaking from Abigail’s stomach. Abigail lay beneath him, breathing hard, her eyes wide and so full of feeling that they almost made Marcus want to begin all over again.
When he’d finished, he murmured in Abigail’s ear. ‘We can go to bed.’
‘No. I don’t want to move.’ Abigail slid her arms around Marcus’ neck, slowly but surely bringing him back down to the spot by the fire. ‘Not an inch.’
‘I don’t want you to be cold.’
‘Then don’t let me leave your arms.’
The order was given with such lightness, almost in jest. But Marcus, as he drew Abigail into his embrace and threw every blanket within reach on top of them both, felt the words settle into his soul.
For the first time in his life, he felt as if he had been given a true purpose. More than stealing jewels for fun, more than giving money to the poor… what he had to do in life, had to commit to with more passion and fervour than anything else, was never let Abigail leave his arms.
As beautiful as the countryside was by day, it acquired an enchanting glamour at night. Owls traded eerie calls to one another as Abigail lay cocooned in Marcus’ arms, blankets wrapped around them both, her body so warm and heavy with contentment that she barely felt human anymore.
Only animals could feel this physically comfortable. No, not even animals—flowers, perhaps, at most. She felt like a flower, opening up to all the light the world could give her, her roots finally planted in earth that nourished her.
But the man responsible for all of this was still a mystery. Even though Marcus had opened up his criminal life to her, laying it practically bare—even though he had laid his body bare, and to some extent his heart—the essential facts of the man’s life, the truth of him, was still beyond her reach.
She whispered to the stars. ‘Who are you, Marcus?’
Marcus was silent for a long moment. Just as Abigail was sure that he had fallen asleep, he took a deep breath and spoke.
‘I’m… I’m no-one of importance. Not really.’ He stroked Abigail’s shoulder blades; Abigail moved closer. ‘And… and I would be the happiest man alive, Abigail, if you would at least think about being a woman of no importance alongside me. To… to consider the prospect.’
Happiness, hot and bright and almost entirely unfamiliar, exploded in Abigail’s heart. She gasped, briefly breathless; Marcus kissed the top of her head again and again, soothing Abigail until she could speak. ‘Yes.’
‘You’ll consider it?’
‘I’ll do it.’
‘My darling, consider first. You know nothing of my life.’
‘Then tell me. Goodness knows I’ve asked you.’
‘What… what if I show you?’
‘Showed me?’
‘I am meant to return to my—my usual life tomorrow. A carriage will arrive for me. Would you come with me?’
‘Yes.’
‘Good.’ Marcus looked down at her. His starlit face was the most beautiful thing Abigail had ever seen. ‘I’m glad of it.’
Tomorrow would hold even more adventures than today had. Abigail kissed Marcus’ chest, hoping he could feel it through the linen of his shirt, and blinked as a tear of pure joy gathered in the corner of her eye.
Life had always been relatively kind to her. At least, she had always thought so; apart from her mother and father, the rest of her existence was tranquil. But now, having met Marcus, Abigail could see all the happiness that had previously passed her by.
No longer. Abigail closed her eyes. From now on, no ounce of happiness escapes me.
