Page 44 of Surrender Your Grace
Her fingers curled in his coat, willing him to stay. But she knew she couldn’t hold him.
“Come home safe,” she whispered, almost addingand quickly.
“Always. I have much to come home safe to.”
The next moment, he was gone.
Chapter 12
Andrew woke in his own bed, still fully dressed, a soft, familiar weight nestled beside him.
Memory rushed back, and he groaned. Damn. He was a poor excuse for a husband. He’d meant to lie down for just a moment. The soft mattress, fresh linens, and blessed quiet had overtaken him. She must have waited and waited then finally come to him.
He turned onto his side and watched her sleep. Flawless skin, gold gilded lashes fanning her cheeks, the inviting curve of her lips that made his mouth ache to taste her. The longer he looked, the more certain he was: Cici’s beauty far eclipsed her sister’s, a so-called “incomparable.”
Her curves, her coloring—none of it fashionable. But he preferred her. Every part of her.
Green eyes fluttered open, hazy with sleep. “What time is it?” she murmured, her voice huskier than usually, making his body stir.
“Still early,” he said, looping an arm around her waist and pulling her close. “We’ve got time.”
She nestled against his chest as he buried his face in her hair.
“Why did we stop sharing a bed?” he asked, inhaling her scent, lilacs and vanilla, as he nuzzled her neck.
“Your schedule,” she replied, her voice catching. “You didn’t want to disturb me—or so you said.”
“I was a fool.” He pressed against her, his arousal firm against her belly, his lips finding the edge of her jaw. “The rewards far outweigh the inconvenience.”
“I agree,” she whispered, flushed and breathless, angling her head and exposing her throat.
He couldn’t resist and dragged his tongue over her fluttering pulse. “Last night, I intended to take my time,” he growled. “This morning, I have no patience.”
He shoved her nightgown up to her waist. “This must go.”
She lifted her arms without protest, and he whisked the soft gown over her head, pausing to take her in as her hair tumbled free, the red waves spilling over her bare shoulders and full breasts. Simply exquisite.
Her eyes sparked with desire as her fingers found the buttons of his shirt. When they were both bare, he resumed his kisses—hungry, consuming—his hands mapping every silken hill and hollow. He nudged her thighs apart, and she welcomed him between them.
“I must have you now, Cici. We can go slow another time.”
“I don’t want slow,” she said, her voice ragged. “I want you inside me. It’s been much too long.”
He groaned as he entered her, the tight heat of her body robbing him of breath. His control slipped as her sheath clenched around him. He found the pearl of her pleasure and circled it, drawing a gasp from her lips. As she arched to meet his thrusts, her nails bit into his shoulders.
She spiraled higher. Bending, he sipped one tight bud into his mouth, and that was all it took. She cried out his name, body clenching tight around him as she shattered.
The sound, the feel, the rush—he couldn’t hold back. He groaned her name, spilling into her as waves of pleasure rolled through him. Their bodies trembled in the aftermath, tangled together, breathless.
He kissed her once more then rolled to his side, her face tucked beneath his chin as they held each other in perfect silence.
It didn’t last. He could already hear the house stirring.
“We’ve got maybe five minutes before Tibbs and Mary come knocking,” he murmured.
“Can’t we stay in bed until noon—like at Arendale?”
“This isn’t West Sussex, I’m afraid. Things move faster in London.” He sighed. “And I’m due at Parliament at ten for a vote I cannot miss.”
