His hips left the bed as the first spurt of his orgasm tipped him over the edge into mindless, thoughtless joy.
This time she pulled away, and he spurted his seed over her buttocks and her thighs as he dragged her back into his arms.
Oblivion took him.
*****
Gerald snapped his eyes open, shocked that he had tumbled instantly into slumber. The candles still flickered and it was dark outside. He could not have been asleep long. She lay in his arms, on top of him, and her back had chilled with the night air. Softly, and not without effort, he snagged the edge of the sheet and tugged it over them. The blankets came with it.
With tenderness, he cocooned her, cradling her in soft warmth. His cock, lying flaccid, twitched when she shifted and moaned. Miraculously, he wanted her again. Gerald rarely slept in any bed but his own. With his last mistress, he’d provided her with a house and visited her when he felt the need. He could not imagine doing that with Annie—or her accepting it, he acknowledged with a fond smile.
He grazed her forehead with his lips, content to wait until she awoke. If that took her until morning, he would lie here and hold her. She smelled of ivory soap, oranges and their coupling. He would have to wash her before she left, although a basic, masculine urge longed to leave her smelling of him. To leave his scent on her.
Tonight something in him had changed. He no longer wanted the same things he had when he entered.
It was only right the earth-shattering event happened here, where he’d spent years learning who he was and what he wanted to do with his life.
Fitting because he had only just discovered the truth. But he would not reveal the word lurking at the back of his mind. He felt at one with her as he had with nobody else before, not even his sisters.
Her lashes fluttered and she opened her eyes. He ensured her first sight was of him, curved his hand over her cheek to keep her in place.
“I want more,” he said.
She glanced over his shoulder at the candles, which were burned down just over half way. “We have time.”
He shook his head. “More than tonight.”
She sighed and stretched like a cat. “How can we? We agreed—”
He stopped her sensible words by kissing her. One kiss turned to another, and he couldn’t bear to be apart from her any more.
Rolling over her, he slid between her thighs and pushed inside her. Although she was a little tight, she lifted her knees and opened her legs wider, smiling up at him.
Only when he’d joined them did he feel complete. “Why does this have to end? We can meet here. I haven’t had enough of you, Annie, and I suspect you feel the same.” He withdrew for the exquisite pleasure of thrusting back in.
She licked her lips and gasped. Conversation ended.
This time their lovemaking was fast and frantic, thrusting hard until they both came in a burst of fireworks.
He lay over her, panting, as his senses returned. “Annie.”
“Gerald.”
He couldn’t envisage a time when he didn’t want her.
CHAPTER EIGHT
ANNIE WOKE AS A CHURCH CLOCK STRUCK SEVEN. She remained still, blinking the sleep away. Not that she’d had much rest. She’d resented every moment of sleep. Although he’d asked her once more, he hadn’t persisted, otherwise he might have broken her heart.
Gerald lay next to her, his arm slung around her waist in a possessive gesture she could get used to far too easily. She knew every inch of his body now, more than any other man she had ever known, or would be likely to know. Her head spun, and her body ached from his thorough and enthusiastic lovemaking.
She lay with her back to him, snuggled into his big body in a way she vowed she would never forget. The last thing he’d done, about two hours ago by her reckoning, was to collect hot water from the kitchen, and washed her tenderly. She’d teased him, saying he was quite useful, for an earl, and he’d laughed at her, claiming not all earls were so handy.
This was the furthest away from each other they’d been all night, but now it was time to separate. For good.
She slid out of bed and reached for her shift.
Although she didn’t look at him, she felt his awareness. “You’re going,” he said.
“I have to. By the time I’m dressed and presentable it will be eight o’clock.”
The sheets rustled as he got out of bed. “I’ll make tea.”
She couldn’t deny she loved his previously unsuspected domesticity.
By the time he returned, she was in her stays and petticoats, busy shaking out her gown ready to put it on. He put the tea-tray on a table and came to help her. “You did your stays on your own?”
He touched her bare back. She shivered, unable to quell the response. “I’ve been doing them on my own for years. It’s a trick of the lacing.” She’d had to re-lace them because he’d pulled the tapes out of the last few holes when he’d undressed her last night. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d sliced through them with a knife, so little heed had she taken at the time.