Page 55 of The Rebellious Countess
“Fuck. I’ve never dreamed of taking a woman while on a horse. Certainly not when my mind should be focused on something as important as keeping us alive.”
“I need this to live,” she gasped. “The joining of our bodies is everything I want and desire.”
“Then I am yours.” He let Máira set the pace while he held them astride the stallion. Let her explore her sexual appetite—which just might kill him. His little wife was turning out to be so much more than he’d ever realized. She rode his shaft as if she were born to. Up and down, in and out, flexing and squeezing every goddamned inch of him as she mewled and panted and made him want to come without thinking of her release.
And then she was there, her warm, tight core pulsing around him as he took her lips in his to silence her scream in a passionate kiss he never wanted to end. He pushed up from the stirrups, meeting her downward thrusts with those of his own. Stars exploded in the sky, or perhaps it was just in his mind’s eye, but they were there, brighter, more blinding, and more explosive than any fireworks released by Louis the XVI and Marie Antoinette. The only thing both events had in common was the impending doom and tragedy that would no doubt follow, at least to his heart.
Butmon Dieu,as he pumped the last of his seed bursting from his body and deep into hers, all he could think was,tu es à moi.
You are mine, Máira. Now and forever.
Máira pulled back from his kiss, her chest heaving as her soft languid body relaxed into his. They were one. The way he wanted them to always be.
“How did you keep us on this horse?”
“I don’t know,” he breathed.
“That’s twice you’ve given me pleasure while sitting astride this horse. The poor thing must feel used.”
“I will get him a mare when this is over.”
“I’m sure he will appreciate that.” The coy smile on her lips transformed her into the siren she was meant to be.
Elias cleared his throat and lifted her from his cock. The greedy bastard was charging up to go again, but he couldn’t risk it. As it was, he would have to ensure she wasn’t pregnant before they filed for an annulment. “Máira?—”
She pulled back allowing him enough space to close the falls of his trousers. “Don’t, Elias. I know this means nothing. I will not hold on to you if I am with child.”
“That wasn’t?—”
“It was the risk I was willing to take. If I somehow end up with child, I will find a solution.” She leaned back and swung her body around as if she were one of acrobatic riders he’d seen in Covent Gardens, all the while pulling her skirts underneath her and her cloak over her head so that he could no longer see her beautiful face. She’d built a wall between them which angered him more than her words.
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means I relinquish you from all paternal responsibilities.”
He couldn’t believe his ears. “And if I don’t want to give up my rights as our child’s father?”
She shook her head as if it were a moot point. “It doesn’t matter. We both know this wasn’t a real marriage.”
“What in damnation are you talking about? I told you it was legal.”
“You also told me you would not be bound to me. It’s fine.” She patted his hand on the reins as if she were appeasing a child. All he could think about was their child.
“We will be fine.”
“You dismiss me as if I donated my seed to your cause and that is the end of my role in our child’s life.”
She shrugged in response.
He’d thought he would have to let her down easy, but that wasn’t the case at all. In fact, if any heart was breaking…no. The pain in his chest was not from his heart.
He snapped his hand out of her reach and the horse complained for the first time, but he ignored it, too upset by the recent turn of the tide. “What if Iwantto be bound to my child?” He didn’t say ‘bound to her,’ and if his comment caused her any personal duress, there were no signs of a blow to her heart. “My child will not be born a bastard,” he spit out.
The laugh escaping her lips was brittle and false. “I will find a father for my child if need be.”
A growl escaped his lips, shocking her and him. “He has a father.”
It was her turn to bristle. “Butshedoes not?”
