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By the time the fifth blow landed on the sensitive backs of her thighs, Josie was sobbing. It burned… it burned like a thousand suns… yet when Elijah rolled her onto her back, pulling her against him, his cock seeking comfort between her thighs, she was soaking wet with arousal. Her lips met his hungrily, pulling him against her even as she cried out at the shocking sensation of being filled with one thrust as her sore bottom pressed against the mattress.
Their joining was rushed. Frantic. Fueled by lingering reactions to fear as much as their own ardor. A confirmation of life.
When their breathing slowed, so did Elijah’s touches. He stripped her down, and she returned the favor, kissing every inch of each other as they went, stoking the fires of their passion. The skin of her bottom still burned, especially when he gripped it, but the pain had transmuted into something far more pleasurable.
They moaned in unison, moving together as the glory of their love flowed over and through them. Josie looked up at the man moving above her, in her, and knew she had finally found the love she had always sought, the happiness she’d yearned for, and saw him looking at her the same way. He bent his head, claiming her lips yet again, thrusting strongly between her thighs as the need riding them crescendoed and peaked.
Josie cried out against his lips, her fingers digging into his shoulders, legs clutching him closer to her. His cock thrust deep, sliding through their combined wetness and filling her completely.
Wrapped in a tangle of limbs, her bottom and between her legs throbbing for two entirely different reasons, Josie nuzzled Elijah’s shoulder with her nose.
“I am sorry for rushing off the way I did. I should have stopped and waited to speak with you.”
His arm around her tightened, and his lips brush the top of her head.
“You have no idea how glad I am to hear that.”
Squirming around, Josie got into a position where she could look Elijah in the eyes.
“Trust me, I may be impetuous at times, but there is nothing I want more than to spend every night safe in your arms.”
Elijah grinned at her. His open expression would have shocked most of his acquaintances since he normally did not lower his barriers. Josie luxuriated in the intimacy and love emanating from him.
“Trust me, minx, I will do everything I can to assure that outcome.”
“I love you, Elijah.” Tears stung her eyes at the emotions that surged inside her, filling her with such joy that she could barely contain it. She was so, so grateful she had married the wrong Stuart brother.
“I love you, Josie. My little minx.”
There was still a traitor to uncover and catch, a Season to finish, but for now, Josie was—perhaps for the first time—perfectly content with her life.
Epilogue
Lily
Staring out the window at the rolling greenery outside of London, Lily heaved a sigh of relief. Across the barouche-landau, on the opposite bench, her maid looked up at her with an inquisitive brow before deciding Lily had not actually been trying to catch her attention and looked away again. Thankfully, Chastity was used to Lily’s preference for quiet reflection over constant chattering.
The lady’s maid had been a gift from the Duchess of Frederick, Lily’s godmother, during the Season, but they had rubbed along well, so Lily had asked if Chastity would extend her employment and accompany her to the country. It was a special boon because Lily had left for Derbyshire several days before her parents, permissible only because she had her lady’s maid to travel with her as an erstwhile chaperone. As there was no need to spend the night at an inn, she did not need a more formidable one.
Sighing happily again, Lily leaned back against her bench seat, inwardly smiling when Chastity ignored her this time. Several years older, Chastity’s sober demeanor was a good match for Lily’s quiet, bookish ways.
If she never had to go to London for the Season again, she would be perfectly happy. The only reason she had done so was her friend Evie had asked her and her other two best friends. Josie had thrived on her first foray into Society, and Mary had deftly dealt with her second Season, but Lily had hated every moment.
Gentlemen, she had discovered, did not like a woman with their own mind. At least, not the nincompoops she had been introduced to. Several had been drawn in by her relationship with the Duke and Duchess of Frederick, but they had not stayed after realizing Lily was the type to speak her mind. Which was a relief, even if it was lowering. She had always imagined marrying and having children, but if that was what London had to offer…
Unfortunately, the options in Derbyshire were not much better. Perhaps she would become an aged bluestocking spinster, firmly on the shelf, playing doting auntie to her friends’ children. After her first Season, Lily found the prospect far more appealing than she would have countenanced at the beginning.
Granted, she had not gone into the Season with high hopes, knowing well she was not what many considered ‘sociable,’ but whatever hopes she’d had were quickly crushed underfoot by the general attitudes of theton.Her very first week out in Society, she’d heard the incredibly handsome Lord Broderick—with who she’d thought she’d had a very interesting conversation—remark to one of his friends that the only way she would find a husband would be to sew her mouth shut.
After that, to gauge the gentlemen’s reactions, Lily had become even more outspoken about her views and opinions. Like Lord Broderick, they were polite enough to her face, but she saw through their facades and overheard some of their comments, enough to know those gentlemen were assuredlynotfor her.
The carriage came to a sudden, jerking stop, tumbling the occupants about. Chastity cried out, flinging her arms wide as she was thrown forward, and Lily opened hers to catch her. They fell back against Lily’s bench, shocked by the abrupt halt.
“Stand and deliver!”
What? A highwayman? Lily and Chastity exchanged disbelieving looks before Lily quickly released her maid and knowing she was being a perfect twit, leaned out the window to see a man on horseback, wearing a long black cape and mask, pointing a gun at the carriage.
Botheration. This was the last thing she needed today.
