Page 94 of The Duke's Counterfeit Wife

She didn’t want to return there. She didn’t want him to leave her, either.

But he didn’t. He climbed onto the bed once more, and without saying anything, gently pried her fingers from the headboard. Perhaps he realized how tightly she’d been holding on, because he kissed each palm.

“Good lass,” he murmured again, sending a spike of-of something through her.

Joy? Pride?

Then he tugged her against him, and the pair of them fell into the bed. When he pulled the blankets up to cover them both, she found herself praying nothing would interrupt this.

Interrupt them.

She could hear his heart beating. Her head was tucked up under his chin, and she marveled at how easily they fit together.

And her thoughts from earlier today came creeping back.

Could she be happy like this? With this grumpy, commanding man? This man who held her as if she were precious, who treated her as if she were special?

How was that even a question?

She’d never considered living her life with a man in it, but Griffin had taught her there were some definite bonuses.

“Griffin?”

He wasn’t asleep, she could tell. Still, his only response was a shifting, pulling her closer.

She swallowed, and whispered, “I have to tell you something.”

It was what she should have told him before. She wasn’t certain why it was important, but it was.

Felicity paused, not sure if she should expect something more from him. When he said nothing, she ventured, “I—thank you. That was my first time—I mean, not my first time, but…”

“Ye have a son, Flick.”

“I have never orgasmed with another person.”

There. There, it was said.

Awkward and shameful and in her typical stilted way, but still: it was said.

Griffin had frozen, even his breathing still. Then, slowly, he pulled away just enough to stare down at her. Of course, she couldn’t see, not in the dark, but she could feel his gaze studying her face, and she felt herself blush. Did he not believe her?

Instead, all he said was, “That’s why ye wanted me to teach ye about pleasure?”

She exhaled, grateful. “Yes.”

Perhaps he could see in the dark, because his lips unerringly found hers.

He hadn’t kissed her since he’d walked into this room; had only touched her and made her feel the kind of pleasure she hadn’t thought possible.

But now he kissed her.

And it was so soft, so gentle, she felt tears pricking at the back of her eyes.

Then he pulled away, brushed a kiss across her nose, and with brusque movements, pulled her back against his chest, tucking her under his chin once more.

She listened to his heart.

Thank you, she whispered silently.

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