Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78100 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78100 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“Please, oh please don’t stop,” she begged as she neared completion.
“No, darling. Stay with me. Come with me.”
She would never accustom herself to the way he moved inside her and against her, as if he knew just the sensation she needed. Half-wild, people called him. This was the wonderful thing about having a half-wild husband. He was the passion others avoided, the poetry that proper ladies didn’t read.
“Oh, Marlow. Oh, please.”
He grasped her hips as she ground against him. She found her satisfaction with him deep inside, thrusting even deeper. He would not let her get away, not that she wished to. Her inner walls clenched against his hard length, and she was lost again to that blissful place he always took her. Half-wild, but fully wonderful.
Wanton.
Wondrous.
She collapsed against his chest, feeling his blood thrum beside her ear. He surged up into her, gaining his own release before she could even catch her breath. He gasped and went still, clutching her hips, driving her down.
“Rosalind. My God.”
She held him, nuzzling her head against his. Slowly, he relaxed and let out a long breath.
“The way you make me feel,” he whispered. “God save you, Rosalind. You make me lose all control.” He looked up at her, his blue eyes full of torment. “Did I hurt you?”
“No. Well, not the second part. The spanking hurt.”
His hands slid down to her backside, resting on her bunched-up skirts. “You drive me mad,” he said.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s nothing to be sorry for. It’s fantastic.”
He gazed at her a moment. His regard seemed less like love than concern. “What is it?” she asked, taking his face in her hands. “What’s wrong?”
He looked away, then shook his head. “It’s nothing. Being here among everyone…well. I feel guilt and anxiety too.”
Her lips twitched up in a grin. “Maybe you need a spanking.”
“No, my darling. I’m more likely to go at you again if you don’t behave yourself.” He kissed her right upon her teasing smile. “The spankings in our household shall only go one way, I’m afraid.”
“My way.” She made a pretend pout, though she wasn’t really upset. She loved to hear him talk about their relationship. Their household.
He lifted her away from him and she noticed dampness between her legs. “Goodness, will there be a baby now?” she asked.
“There’s not always a baby, sweeting. But perhaps. It would be all right, wouldn’t it? We’re not in such danger anymore.”
“Yes, that’s true.” She wondered what a baby of theirs might look like. Would it be light blond like him, or have the dark Lockridge coloring that everyone found so striking?
“Are you feeling better now?” he asked, brushing back her hair. “A bit less guilty?”
“Yes. Oh, yes,” she answered. Even if she wasn’t, she wouldn’t have admitted it because she’d had quite enough spanking for one night.
As for the other, well, she wouldn’t mind indulging another time or two. Or three.
Chapter Fourteen
Nothing to Fear
Marlow stood at the edge of the vast, manicured garden overlooking the west side of the palace. The Tuscan sun glowed on mid-morning grass, turning it from green to gold while birds flitted through the hedges.
His formal, royal wedding was tomorrow, but his mind was on his first wedding, when everything had been warmth, and relief, and wonder that they were alive and together. Together, just the two of them, with no worries of the future.
“I found him.” August’s voice cut through his silent memories. “Our honored bridegroom-to-be.”
He turned and saw that August was not alone. Townsend was with him, frowning as he walked across the terrazzo. Marlow looked back out at the gardens, feeling ill at ease, which made no sense because they’d always been so comfortable with one another. “How are you fellows today?” he asked.
“I could get used to living in a palace,” said August. “The breakfasts alone…”
“Why are you off here on your own?” Townsend asked. “Nervous about the wedding?”
“Not at all. I’m overjoyed to marry your sister.” He turned to face his friend. “Thing is, we’re already married. This whole rush to make something honorable of our union… It feels insulting, a bit.”
“You know what’s insulting? Running off with Rosalind in the first place.”
“Come now.” August cut in before the tense conversation could become a heated one. “I brought you out here to make amends with Marlow, not to antagonize him.”
“I’d just like to know what he was thinking,” said Townsend. “How he thought it might work out.”
“I had no idea Rosalind planned to steal away to India. I didn’t even know she was on the ship for weeks. We did not plan anything.”
Townsend crossed his arms over his chest. “You expect me to believe it was all Rosalind’s idea then? Rosalind’s fault?”
“Love makes people act out of character and do impulsive things.” He narrowed his eyes at his friend, now his brother-in-law. “I seem to remember you storming into Wescott’s marriage proposal, starting a brawl, then running off to France.”