Page 140 of The Duke's Wicked Widow
His praise made her squirm, breathless, atop him. His hips moved under hers as if he wanted to increase the pace.
“Ye want more of this?” he asked, flexing upward into her, and all she could do was whimper, “Please!”
With a chuckle, Fawkes moved his hand from her throat to her shoulder, nudging her forward. She braced her hands on his knees again, and he reached for her hair, tugging her head up so she was staring at her reflection.
“Look at ye,” he grunted, as he began to thrust upward. “Look how beautiful ye look as ye take my cock.” Each word was accompanied by a thrust, and her fingers dug into his knees to hold herself steady. “I’ve been dreaming of this since that first night, lass, when ye stared at that window while I fooked ye.”
She remembered that snowy night, the darkness outside the window reflecting her surprised gaze. Oh God, just the memory of what he’d done to her that night sent her arousal shooting higher and higher.
In the ornate mirror before her now her gaze was slick with need, lips parted as he pounded into her from behind. She didn’t think she wouldevernot be amazed by the way he made her feel, as he dragged in and out of her.
“Fawkes,” she moaned, her eyes fluttering closed. “Please, more—”
“Nay, love, open yer eyes. Watch yerself. Ellie, watch yerself.”
His tone had turned harsh and there was no thought of disobedience. Her eyes flashed open to see her flushed cheeks and breasts, swaying intriguingly with each movement.
“Ye make me lose control, lass,” he growled, reaching for one of those breasts, rolling her nipple the way she loved.
Ellie arched against his hold, mewling breathlessly, as his hold on her hair tightened.
“I’m going to come in ye, Ellie,” he rasped, and her gaze shot to his in the reflection. “I’m going to spend deep in yer cunny, and ye’re going to watch me, like a good girl. Aye?”
Oh God oh God oh God.
“Yes! Fawkes, yes!”
“Watch yerself take my cock. Watch yerselfcomeon my cock, Ellie.”
With that command, he squeezed her breast, and she shot off over the edge of the precipice she’d been climbing. Out and over and away, far into the great beyond, pleasure wrenching a wordless shout from her tongue as her thighs squeezed his in desperation.
And she didn’t look away from the mirror.
Dimly, she felt him spill inside her, something she hadn’t felt in so long. Her inner muscles contracted, pulling at him, urging himdeeper deeper deeper.
Fawkes gathered her, pulling her back against him, his cock still buried deep inside her, joined as he wrapped his arms around her middle. Her thighs went limp, opening so her reflection showed a thoroughly wicked woman, spread across his lap, speared by his cock.
Over her shoulder, she saw him smile, that dimple appearing despite his heavy breathing.
“That’s my good lass,” he murmured, stroking her skin in praise.
Finally, Ellie allowed her eyes to close, her head to drop back on his shoulder. “I love my new mirror,” she whispered.
She could feel his laughter building in his chest, and her smile grew in response.
“Ye liked that?” He kissed her temple, then her jaw. “Perhaps we should keep it in these chambers for a few more days.”
“Or ye should come help me get dressed more often,” she quipped.
“Undressed, perhaps.”
Their breathing was returning to normal, but they were still joined. Experimentally, Ellie flexed her inner muscles, and heard him suck in a breath in response.
“God Almighty, I love ye, Ellie MacMillan.”
Ellie MacMillan.That was who she was now. NotLady, notStoughton,notAycock…not evenDanielle.
She wasEllie.AndMama. Andwife.
Smiling, she snuggled back into her husband’s hold. “And I love you, Fawkes.”
“Forever?”
“Always.”
