Page 124 of The Earl's Bluestocking Bride
Emotion tightened her throat. “I love you too.”
With shaking hands, he undid his belt and lowered his breeches. His undergarment followed, and he stepped out of them, then grabbed the layers of her skirt and lifted them up around her waist. He shifted forward, the hair on his thighs scraping against the tender insides of her legs as he made his way to that hot, wanting part of her.
“Do it,” she murmured, parting her thighs to reveal herself to him. “I need you.”
“Fuck.” A shudder rolled through him. “Easy, love. Too much of that and I won’t last.”
She grinned. “Then don’t. We have all night.”
She didn’t know what was making her so brazen, but she never wanted it to end.
He fitted himself against her and pressed in. Her eyes widened as he filled her, and she exhaled slowly, allowing her muscles to relax. He held her gaze the entire time.
When he was deep within her, he began to rock. Just small movements at first, seating himself deeper and nudging her bud over and over again.
With one hand remaining in place behind her, she grabbed him with the other and yanked him toward her. “More.”
His lips curved. “If you insist.”
He drew out in one smooth motion and thrust back in so hard, her vision nearly whited out.
“Oh,” she cried.
She needed more of that. Now.
Wrapping her legs around him, she urged him to do it again.
He did, and her head fell back, her mouth open, as starbursts of color exploded before her eyes.
She was so close. So close. Teetering on the brink. Just one more and…
He drove into her again, and she shattered, calling out his name. Pleasure like none she’d ever experienced turned her limbs languid even as she trembled from the overwhelming intensity, completely out of control of her own body.
“Fuck.”
His hands slid beneath her bottom, and he lifted her against him. She clutched his shoulders as he thrust relentlessly into her, then groaned, rapture stealing across his face as he released within her.
Thankfully, he set her down before his legs gave out, and he collapsed onto the desk chair, his breeches still around his ankles.
“Wow.” He patted his lap. “Come here.”
Amelia lowered her feet to the floor, padded over to him, and sat. He wrapped his arm around her waist and held her close. She rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes as contentment washed over her.
They were quiet, but it was peaceful and perfect. Amelia smiled to herself. When she’d proposed her practical marriage to Andrew, she’d never have dreamed that she could be so happy with him—and have her writing too.
This was not at all how she’d foreseen the future playing out, but for once, she couldn’t be more pleased that nothing had gone according to plan.
CHAPTER 30
Suffolk,
December1820
As the carriagetrundled along the tidy country road, Kate stuck her head out the window.
“We’re almost there,” she called. “Perhaps another mile or so.”
Amelia’s gut churned with both excitement and nerves. She was eager to see her new home. Andrew had told her such lovely stories about it. But she was also anxious to discover how the household staff would react to her presence.
