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“You’re sure.”
It was posed as a statement, but she knew what he was asking. And while she appreciated his consideration, she very well knew her own mind.
Georgiana let out an irritated huff and pulled him on top of her, letting her actions speak for her. Loudly.
Henry grunted in surprise, but he did not stop. Instead, he cupped her face in his hands and gave her a brutal kiss that only ended when she took hold of his hard shaft. A hiss escaped his lips, and he pushed her grasping hand away.
“I believe I can manage things from here,” he quipped, his dry tone just barely masking the tremble in his voice. Georgiana smiled to herself. A smile that quickly vanished on a gasp as he eased into her.
“Oh God,” she breathed, and Henry immediately halted. “No,” she added, pressing her hands to his backside to urge him forward. “Don’t stop.”
It was the height of vulgarity to act so wantonly in bed. But it had been so,solong. And never anything like this. Georgiana felt as if she would burst into flames if she went one second longer without him inside her. And said as much.
“Very well,” Henry grunted as he resumed his movements. “As my lady commands.”
Georgiana bit back a laugh. She enjoyed his talk far too much, as if he were some sort of errant knight in an erotic Walter Scott story. But all thoughts of chivalry escaped her as he pushed fully into her. Henry let out a low curse and held absolutely still for a moment. Georgiana’s eyelids fluttered at the feel of his hard length filling her. She hadn’t known it was possible to be sated so completely. But then he began to move. And that was even better. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, still swathed in the fabric of his shirt. He moved in slow, deliberate thrusts, taking her deeper and deeper each time. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and a strangled grunt escaped his lips. He began to move harder and faster, panting by her ear. Georgiana arched her back, taking even more of him, until it felt as if every part of her was filled with him. The sound of his growing pleasure, the scent of his skin, the feel of his warm, strong body pressing against hers all pushed her closer to the edge of her own release.
“Georgie,” he growled against her ear, hard and sudden.“Fuck.”
It felt like someone had set off fireworks inside her. Sparks soared through her body as they came together. Henry wrenched himself from her just as her pleasure began to subside and let out an aching groan. Only then did she realize he had been holding his own release at bay, waiting for her. His consideration filled her with a different kind of warmth. One she had never experienced before. With the viscount, making love had always been perfunctory. An act meant to generate a result that she had never managed to accomplish. But this was something entirely new. And entirely not in keeping with the arrangement they had agreed upon.
For she wanted so much more.
Henry collapsed beside her, still catching his breath, and Georgiana pushed to her feet. She began searching for her discarded wrapper and underclothes.
“Is something wrong?”
She looked over her shoulder, and a fierce longing shot through her. He had sat up on one elbow, peering at her with a confused expression far more open than usual.
“Of course not,” she said stiffly, fighting the urge to climb back into bed with him as she slid her wrapper around her shoulders.
He raised an eyebrow in question, and Georgiana’s heart clenched briefly, but then she pushed the feeling aside. “I’m just tired. Can’t risk falling asleep here.”
Surely he could understand that.
His jaw tightened ever so slightly, but then his expression returned to that familiar wall of stone. “Quite right.” He sat all the way up, still watching her much too closely.
Georgiana forced herself not to look away. “Good night.”
As he stared back at her, his dark gaze was inscrutable as ever. “Sleep well.”
Chapter Fourteen
Henry awoke just as dawn was breaking over the Mediterranean. He hadn’t bothered to change out of his clothes last night because he hadn’t wanted to part with Georgiana’s scent just yet.
In other words, he was pathetic.
He moved to the edge of the bed and stretched his leg out tentatively, pleasantly surprised to find it didn’t ache much. Dr. Abernathy’s exercises were working, then. That was encouraging, given how determined Henry had been to not let his knee hold him back last night. It had been a risk, but well worth it. One he hoped very much to take again. Heat flared through him as image after image of Georgiana flashed through his mind. She had been so lovely and so very reactive to his touch. In truth, Henry had been more than a little worried that he wouldn’t be able to satisfy her, that the previous evening had been a fluke, and he would never measure up to her late husband. But the way she had crawled onto his lap after he pleasured her with his mouth had been incredibly gratifying to his ego, especially since she was the first woman he had been intimate with since his injury—not that he had ever been much of a lothario before that. But what he lacked in quantity, he liked to think he made up for in quality.
He rubbed his face and let out a sigh. He still wasn’t sure what had come over Georgiana. Henry had been about to pull her into his arms and ask her to spend the night with him, or as much of it as she dared, when she began acting as if they had just swapped business tips rather than a passionate encounter the likes of which he had certainly never experienced before.
Though Georgiana had put on an admirable show, Henry wasn’t quite convinced that he was alone in feeling shaken by the emotions their coupling had dragged to the surface. Her demeanor may have been calm, but she hadn’t been able to hide the trembling in her fingers or the raw vulnerability in her eyes.
But that didn’t mean her dismissiveness hadn’t hurt.
Still, Henry was hardly in a position to confront her about it, as there were far too many things he had no wish to reveal. In the meantime he would suffer her slings and arrows while taking whatever comfort he could find in her lush, welcoming body. She had been even more perfect than he had ever imagined—and at one time Henry Harris had done quite a bit of imagining. Now he planned to acquire as many memories as he could before this affair came to an end. And end it would.
Hopefully without destroying him in the process.
