Page 108 of Rules for a Bastard Lord
His hand tightened on the back of her head, drawing her back to his kiss. He pushed inside her and soon was touchingevery part of her mouth, thrusting in and out while her breath caught, and her belly tightened.
One of his hands slid down her side, cupping her bottom before squeezing it. But then he broke away from her. He tore his mouth aside, his breath heaving in and out.
“Bluebell,” he said. “We can’t.”
Oh, they could. They most definitely could. But she didn’t say that aloud. Instead she nodded. “Lie back. Let me wash the cut.”
“No—”
She glared at him. She knew her cheeks were flushed and her nipples tight. Lord knew she was all liquid when it came to him. But she put steel into her voice. “Take off your shirt, and lie back.”
“It’s nothing.” But when she did not change her expression, he sighed. He pulled off his ruined shirt, and the candlelight cast his hard muscles into a golden relief.
“Lie down,” she said, her mouth dry.
He did as she bid, the mattress creaking slightly under his weight. She wrung out a cloth in the basin, and she sat beside him as she gently wiped away the blood.
“I love you,” she blurted out. Then she froze. Lord, she hadn’t meant to say that yet. She hadn’t meant to confess it so baldly. But there it was. She’d said it, and so she was forced to continue. “I don’t know when it started. It was a quiet thing, growing from something so tiny that I didn’t notice. Like spring, when suddenly you look around and everything’s blooming, and you hadn’t realized.”
She watched him swallow. His eyes were shadowed and his body completely still. He was holding everything inside, and she’d never know his thoughts. So she focused on her task as she cleaned his wound.
“It happened yesterday,” she continued, purposely keeping her tone light. “I hadn’t heard from you in days, and everythingwas awful. I missed you. I wanted to talk to you. I wanted…” Well, there were many things she wanted from him. With him. “And then today you were here, and it was spring.”
She set aside the cloth, not daring to touch him again without knowing what he was thinking.
“That’s gratitude, Bluebell,” he finally rasped. “It’s not love.”
She twisted his nipple hard. She hadn’t intended to, but she’d been looking at that brown flat disk with the tight bud. She seen the golden hair that whorled around it, and then he’d made that stupid comment. So she’d pinched him, except she’d been looking at his nipple so she pinched that.
“Ow!” he cried out, gripping her hand as his belly jerked, and his legs lifted off the bed.
“Don’t tell me what is and isn’t love. Do you think I haven’t felt grateful before? I know when my heart is given to a man and—”
He jerked her forward. A pull from his hands, and she landed flush on his chest. Then his mouth was on hers. She was greedy as she lay on top of him. She thrust her tongue into his mouth and felt him groan as the sound rumbled from his body into hers. He let his hands roam, caressing her back and bottom. And there, hot against her private parts, was his organ. Big and rock hard, even through their clothing. She rolled her pelvis against him, and once again felt that low rumble between them.
But then he pushed her back. His expression was tortured as he spoke.
“I’ve lied to you.”
That startled her. She pushed up on her arms, lifting her chest, but not moving off his hips or legs.
“When?”
He swallowed. “Do you remember that time in your kitchen? When we… When I…”
She felt her face heat. Of course she remembered that. She was hoping to do it again.
“Yes.” Her voice came out husky, and his eyes locked on her mouth.
“I told you I wouldn’t take your virginity.”
She nodded slowly. “You didn’t.”
“I—I don’t know. My fingers were inside you when… God, you were so tight, and then you came and there was blood. I don’t know if I tore your membrane. It didn’t matter then. You weren’t going to have a highborn marriage. But now…” He looked up to the ceiling, and she saw misery in the press of his lips. “I should have told you then, but…”
“But you didn’t think it mattered. You didn’t think I was legitimate.”
“Not the granddaughter of an earl. I never thought…”
