Page 51 of Dropping the Ball

She inched her legs open more, tugging Alden’s hair in an attempt to signal what she wanted. Alden growled in response and quickened his pace as he moved closer to her center.

“You are beautiful,” he murmured, kissing higher and higher up her thigh. “You are fearless. You are formidable.”

Each compliment brought him closer to the part of her that was dripping for him, and when he finally brushed his fingertips across her wetness, then sank his tongue into her heat, Bernadette nearly lifted off the bed. She let out a sound that was so far from what a proper, respectable lady should make that it was laughable.

Alden licked and stroked her, shifting so that he could circle and tease her clitoris with his tongue while his fingers delved inside of her. He was so talented and knew what her body wanted so well that it was only a matter of minutes before Bernadette’s breath came in shorter and shorter pants. Her body tensed and throbbed, until the glorious moment when it felt as though her soul had been turned inside out.

She let out a cry, grasping Alden’s hair tightly and arching into him. Alden groaned and plunged his fingers deeper into herpulsing sex. At the moment when her orgasm crested and began to subside, he pulled quickly back, repositioned himself, then thrust into her.

Bernadette let out another cry as her body gladly accepted his hot, hard intrusion. He filled her to the hilt, making her arch into him, then began to move as if he were being driven by some unseen force.

It was raw and perfect. They were not two members of the aristocracy, caught in an impossible situation and surrounded by curses and challenges. They were two creatures of love and passion who would stop at nothing to get what they most needed from each other.

Before long, Alden made a rough sound of satisfaction, and his thrusts became more forceful for a moment before ebbing. He continued to move in her for another few seconds, then pulled out and sagged to her side to catch his breath.

“My love,” he managed to pant out before rolling to his side and taking her with him.

Bernadette made a happy sound and moved with him, curling her body around his, despite the heat and stickiness of everything they’d done. She didn’t care what was neat and tidy, she just wanted to be close to him.

A few minutes later, when they had managed to catch their breaths, as they cuddled together, Alden said, “Damn. I should have been more careful.”

“More careful?” Bernadette asked, muscling herself up onto her side so that she could gaze down at him.

Alden smiled sleepily. “Neither of us are spring chickens, my love,” he said. “But that does not mean the possibility of a child out of wedlock is out of the question.”

Bernadette’s smile faltered slightly. “I would not care,” she said, then leaned in to kiss Alden’s soft lips.

She did care a little, though. Carrying on a love affair when they were not married and she was married to someone else was one thing. Bringing a child into that situation was something else entirely. She did not doubt that Alden would accept and provide for whatever children they might have. He would love them as if they were legitimate, she knew.

But any children that were born from a scandalous affair would have a tough row to hoe in the world that awaited them. Under East Anglian law, even if there was no possibility that Hethersett could have conceived her children, he would still legally be seen as their father. He could send them away to boarding school or have them farmed out, should he wish. She would have no say in the matter.

She shook her head, then settled to lie against Alden again. Hethersett would never do such a thing. He was a kind and reasonable man. He had always been her friend from afar.

“What was that shake of your head for?” Alden asked, turning to his side so he could converse with Bernadette and pulling her into his embrace as he did.

“Silly thoughts,” Bernadette said. “Ones I shouldn’t entertain.”

Alden brushed a strand of hair back from her face. “Would you care to share those silly thoughts with me?” he asked. “I do so like your silly thoughts.”

Bernadette smiled, but her earlier laughter had deserted her, no matter how sweet and light Alden was attempting to be.

“I should not worry about the morrow,” she said, rather than coming right out and sharing her fears. “Worrying about what has yet to come ruins one’s happiness in the present.”

“So true,” Alden said, leaning in to kiss her lips lightly. “And we all know that the ball is what tomorrow will bring.”

A different sort of dread swooped through Bernadette’s gut. She had forgotten the ball in the last, glorious hour.

“How are you feeling about the ball?” she asked, not certain what her aim was.

Alden shrugged one shoulder. “I suppose the entire thing is irrelevant now, but it is far too late an hour to back out of it.”

Bernadette lowered her eyes to stare at his chest. “You … you should not discount all of the young ladies who are here as your guests entirely. Some of them are quite nice.”

Alden tensed, but he did not say anything at first. When Bernadette peeked at him, he was staring at her with a frown. “After all this, after the love we share, you would still have me choose a bride other than you?”

Bernadette winced and squirmed. “I do not want you to,” she said, staring at his chest again and playing with his chest hairs. “But you must admit that marrying someone else would be the simpler option.”

She expected him to launch into a verbose protest and to tell her all the reasons she was wrong.

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