AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He slid out, then back in again, his movements slow and measured. She caught the rhythm easily, lifting her hips to match his thrusts. Pleasure spiraled through her, making her tingle and causing her center to coil even more tightly. Though it had seemed impossible she would experience a release like he had given her earlier so soon, she felt her body straining for it.
“Not so quickly,” he murmured. “Take it slowly.”
“I am not so patient,” she replied, her voice thick with desire. “Next time we go slow.”
“Always next time with you.” He swallowed hard. “Mon Dieu,when you move like that you almost convince me.”
“Then let me do it again.”
He groaned. “Who am I to fight you?” he said through clenched teeth. His thrusts grew harder and faster, taking Honoria’s breath away. The rhythm of their bodies faded away, and she simply moved with him, allowing him to take her where he would. The coil inside her tightened until it strained to the point of discomfort. Tears stung her eyes, and she heard herself begging him in English.
“Please, please, please.”
His mouth came down on her breast, sucking her nipple into his mouth. She arched up to give him access and he drove into her, pushing her over the edge until she was flying. With a cry, she soared higher and higher, her body going rigid and then straining against him to take more and more.
“Look at me,” he said from somewhere far away. She opened her eyes and met his gaze, letting him see just how high he had taken her. “You will be the death of me yet,mon ange,” he all but cursed, and then he thrust hard into her, making her cry out with more pleasure. She clenched around him, her body resisting as he pulled away. A moment later he collapsed on top of her, and she realized he’d spilled his seed on the bedclothes rather than inside her. With a groan, he rolled onto his side, taking her with him.
Her body still convulsed in pleasure, and she could not quite stop the purring in her throat. He leaned in and kissed her cheek. “More?” she murmured.
He chuckled. “Little wanton. Sleep now. I promise to meet your demands when I can breathe again.”
She closed her eyes, but though she’d expected to dream of him, instead she dreamed of a pale girl dressed all in white and reflected in the blade of the guillotine.
Nineteen
Laurent stood nearthe window, staring at the Temple. He’d watched all afternoon, leaving Honoria to sleep. After he’d cleaned up, he laid a blanket over her, dressed, and took up his position at the table. Marie-Thérèse had gone back inside, but he’d drawn her from memory and noted everything else he could before the memories faded.
Now he had nothing to do but to watch the shadows grow over the medieval fortress as afternoon faded and turned slowly to evening.
He wanted to go back to the bedchamber, draw the blanket off Honoria’s lovely body, and take her again. He resisted, telling himself he had better watch the prison and ensure the procedures had not changed from yesterday to today.
But duty was only part of what kept him from going to her again. The other part was fear. Honoria had completely undone him. He’d lost all control, all sense of finesse and skill. He’d forgotten to behave like a gentleman and taken her with a savagery reminiscent of some sort of wild beast.
He’d tried to maintain command of himself, but the way she moved, the sounds she made, and the feel of her clenching around him were too much. Not that she’d seemed to mind. He’d watched as she climaxed, her eyes darkening to purple and her lips parting in wonder. In that moment, she truly resembled an angel. His angel. He wanted to see that look on her face again and again in all its forms. He wanted to hear her beg him in coarse English, cry his name as she came, purr with contentment when he’d satisfied her.
He should not care so much for her or her pleasure. Not that he was a selfish man, but he and Honoria had no future together. Perhaps they had another night, perhaps not that much. There would be noagain and againfor them. He would never know her body, her likes and dislikes, intimately. What they’d shared was all he was likely ever to have with her. It should have been enough.
