have pulled out if he’d wanted to.
Her eyes opened and her passion-clouded gaze locked with his
and held.
His own orgasm gripped him without warning. Everything
inside him tightened until he felt he’d snap and then pleasure detonated,
exploding through his limbs, his torso—his cock—as blessed rapture razed him
deep in the sweet confines of his wife’s body.
When the last tendril of ecstasy subsided he thumbed her
hair back. Logic told him to get up and go back to his room. His emotions were
too raw to risk letting her get any closer than she already had.
But when she laid her head on his shoulder and sighed
contentedly against his neck while his waning arousal still throbbed inside
her, he couldn’t force her away. He stroked the silken strands of her
honey-colored hair before he gathered her in his arms, stood and then carried
her to the bed.
“I should be getting dressed. I have a million things to
do,” she began.
Ignoring her protest, he began unbuttoning his shirt. “I’m
not through with you yet.”
* * * * *
Primrose regarded her sleeping husband. She should have
risen long ago but after he’d taken her twice more, she’d been so physically
sated and drained she’d been reluctant to do anything but doze in his arms.
He’d fallen asleep immediately and while their encounter had left her
exhausted, she couldn’t allow herself to surrender to fatigue.
Myriad emotions nibbled at her, the foremost of which was
fear. She harbored no illusions about her husband. Common sense prevailed. When
he tired of her he’d leave again. It was a punishment she’d have to endure in
order to gain the child she so desperately wanted.
Adam would eventually go back to the dens, to those women.
Primrose harbored no illusions about that. But a child… His child… Fulfilling
the earl’s last request was easy for her because at least she would have a part
of Adam. At least they would share a child.
Even if he stayed she realized that he, like all men, would
tire of home life and seek pleasure elsewhere. While that hadn’t concerned her
before, the idea of Adam in the arms of another woman made her feel sick inside
now.
The shadows lengthened in the room, making her wonder how
long she’d lain here. It seemed sinful, being abed for the better part of a
day. But Primrose could not bring herself to rise, to don clothes.
She’d never been naked for so long a time in her life and
some until-now-unacknowledged part of her…liked it. She enjoyed the feel of the
sheets on her bare legs, her belly. She’d luxuriated in the air caressing her
nude flesh when she’d stripped for Adam. And his hands. Oh his hands.
He touched her with a certainty that evidenced vast
experience. And while a spark of jealousy flared in her at the idea of him
being intimate with other women, another element of her offered herself up like
a sacrificial lamb to his inordinately skilled hands.
She’d never imagined how coupling could involve both the
mind and body. Prior to today, she’d assumed only the flesh was concerned. But
trepidation—sheer not knowing what he’d do next—lust and carnal sensation had
rendered her his willing slave.
In spite of it all guilt gnawed at her. She needed to get
out of bed, to dress, to attend to household matters.
Biting her bottom lip, she inched toward the edge of the
bed, hoping not to wake Adam.
She failed.
His eyes opened and focused on her before turning feral. Her
stomach tightened when he scooped an arm around her and dragged her to him.
“Where are you going?” he asked roughly.
“I’ve no idea what time it is. There is so much I must—”
He grunted. “Do you want to rise?”
Stricken, she debated. “I have to…”
His eyes searched hers, opening her to him, laying bare her
soul. It was too penetrating. Too exposing.
His amber irises turned a rich shade of mahogany. “I did not
give you permission to leave this bed.”
Primrose’s pulse rioted. Every instinct she
Her eyes opened and her passion-clouded gaze locked with his
and held.
His own orgasm gripped him without warning. Everything
inside him tightened until he felt he’d snap and then pleasure detonated,
exploding through his limbs, his torso—his cock—as blessed rapture razed him
deep in the sweet confines of his wife’s body.
When the last tendril of ecstasy subsided he thumbed her
hair back. Logic told him to get up and go back to his room. His emotions were
too raw to risk letting her get any closer than she already had.
But when she laid her head on his shoulder and sighed
contentedly against his neck while his waning arousal still throbbed inside
her, he couldn’t force her away. He stroked the silken strands of her
honey-colored hair before he gathered her in his arms, stood and then carried
her to the bed.
“I should be getting dressed. I have a million things to
do,” she began.
Ignoring her protest, he began unbuttoning his shirt. “I’m
not through with you yet.”
* * * * *
Primrose regarded her sleeping husband. She should have
risen long ago but after he’d taken her twice more, she’d been so physically
sated and drained she’d been reluctant to do anything but doze in his arms.
He’d fallen asleep immediately and while their encounter had left her
exhausted, she couldn’t allow herself to surrender to fatigue.
Myriad emotions nibbled at her, the foremost of which was
fear. She harbored no illusions about her husband. Common sense prevailed. When
he tired of her he’d leave again. It was a punishment she’d have to endure in
order to gain the child she so desperately wanted.
Adam would eventually go back to the dens, to those women.
Primrose harbored no illusions about that. But a child… His child… Fulfilling
the earl’s last request was easy for her because at least she would have a part
of Adam. At least they would share a child.
Even if he stayed she realized that he, like all men, would
tire of home life and seek pleasure elsewhere. While that hadn’t concerned her
before, the idea of Adam in the arms of another woman made her feel sick inside
now.
The shadows lengthened in the room, making her wonder how
long she’d lain here. It seemed sinful, being abed for the better part of a
day. But Primrose could not bring herself to rise, to don clothes.
She’d never been naked for so long a time in her life and
some until-now-unacknowledged part of her…liked it. She enjoyed the feel of the
sheets on her bare legs, her belly. She’d luxuriated in the air caressing her
nude flesh when she’d stripped for Adam. And his hands. Oh his hands.
He touched her with a certainty that evidenced vast
experience. And while a spark of jealousy flared in her at the idea of him
being intimate with other women, another element of her offered herself up like
a sacrificial lamb to his inordinately skilled hands.
She’d never imagined how coupling could involve both the
mind and body. Prior to today, she’d assumed only the flesh was concerned. But
trepidation—sheer not knowing what he’d do next—lust and carnal sensation had
rendered her his willing slave.
In spite of it all guilt gnawed at her. She needed to get
out of bed, to dress, to attend to household matters.
Biting her bottom lip, she inched toward the edge of the
bed, hoping not to wake Adam.
She failed.
His eyes opened and focused on her before turning feral. Her
stomach tightened when he scooped an arm around her and dragged her to him.
“Where are you going?” he asked roughly.
“I’ve no idea what time it is. There is so much I must—”
He grunted. “Do you want to rise?”
Stricken, she debated. “I have to…”
His eyes searched hers, opening her to him, laying bare her
soul. It was too penetrating. Too exposing.
His amber irises turned a rich shade of mahogany. “I did not
give you permission to leave this bed.”
Primrose’s pulse rioted. Every instinct she
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