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Chapter 28
Evie did not emerge from her chamber all day. St. Clare had announced that she was under the weather and would not be gracing them with her presence until morning.
Isabel understood that to mean that Evie was still suffering from the effects of the journey and hoped the rest would do her good.
Millie pouted all through supper about the fact that the duchess hadn’t joined them. But then she learned that she wasn’t allowed to join the adults for dinner during the house party, and her pouting was raised to another level.
She only stopped sulking long enough to ask both Rhys and Isabel to sing to her before bed. And Isabel took it as a sign that she had gotten over the betrayal of being excluded from the meals during the party.
Isabel was glad that Millie was easy to pout and just as easy to forgive. That gave Isabel room to make mistakes, of which she was certain to make plenty. Raising a six-year-old child was not something she’d ever thought she’d have to do. And she thanked the stars that the girl she had to raise was Millicent.
After tucking Millie to bed, Isabel and Rhys made their way to their respective chambers. Isabel had changed for bed and settled under the covers when her husband entered the room.
“Do you know,” he said, as he approached the bed, “that the paint in my room has dried?”
Isabel smiled. “When did that happen?”
“I have no idea.” Rhys climbed onto the bed and kissed her on her mouth before settling under the covers. “I keep going there every day to change, but I only just noticed that the windows are closed, and the hearth is blazing.”
Isabel hid her smile. His room was once more a comfortable place of habitat, and still, he chose to spend the night with her.
He doused the candles and rolled on top of her. He kissed her slowly, and Isabel let out a deep sigh. Would they finally start their conjugal duty? Her body hummed in excitement.
Last night, when he’d turned away from her, she had worried that he simply didn’t want to bed her, although his body had been hard, and she had felt the evidence of his desire against her belly.
Today, he kissed her hungrily, and his hands roamed her body, greedily gathering her against him.
She felt wanted, needed, and it was the best feeling in the world. But it had been so long since she had been intimate with a man. And the only time she was, that man had turned away from her a few days later. She hoped it wouldn’t happen with Rhys, but how did she ensure it?
What was that Evie had told her?
Let yourself enjoy his kisses and touches… No matter how indecent.
Well, perhaps Isabel was wanton because she didn’t find anything indecent in what Rhys was doing to her.
Rhys kissed her deeply now, his tongue playing at the corners of her mouth. The taste of him dulled her senses, and all her previous worries disappeared. She was so consumed by their kiss that she didn’t notice that he’d raised the skirts of her shift. He widened her knees and settled in the cradle of her thighs.
He kept kissing her as he placed the tip of his manhood at the center of her femininity, and Isabel gasped. His hot shaft jolted and pushed at her center, demanding entrance. Isabel closed her eyes and rolled her hips, wanting him inside her.
Rhys moved his hips, slowly and gently invading her heat. Isabel felt the stretching and widened her legs to better accommodate him. Rhys clenched his teeth and placed his hands on either side of her head.
“Ah, darling. You feel too good,” he croaked out.
“Kiss me, Rhys,” Isabel pleaded.
With a groan, he covered her mouth with his, nibbling on her lips, licking at the corners of her mouth as he rocked and seated himself inside her in one thrust. Isabel’s eyes opened wide, and she gasped.
“Does it hurt?” Rhys held himself still, his face a grimace of pain.
He was hot and hard inside her, filling her deliciously. It did not hurt. On the contrary, being completely joined with him was truly the best feeling in the world.
“No,” she said, her voice breathless. “Does it hurt you?”
Beads of sweat covered Rhys’s forehead, and he looked truly pained. But he shook his head. “Too good.”
Rhys withdrew slightly and thrust again, the bed shaking with the force. Isabel let out a moan from the contact.
“Hold on to me,” he whispered.
