Page 51 of Wickedly Yours

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Christ.

Rowan’s heart hammered in his chest. Rolling to his side, he was surprised to hear her slight protest as his body left hers. “Shhh.” His mouth brushed hers. “I’m heavy.”

A smile crossed her lips as her eyes fluttered closed. “Yes, but I like it.” She looked peaceful.Happy.

His heart skipped a beat seeing that slight twist to her lips. The strength of her joy filled the air around them. When had her happiness become so important to him? He was giddy at the slightest hint of a smile from her lips. Pressing a kiss to her temple he smoothed back the dark mass of her hair, marveling at the softness of the strands. He threaded his fingers through the curls marveling at the way they slid through his fingers like silk to float gently over his chest.

“The things I will do to you, Bella,” he whispered, already wanting her again. If he were to put into words what he felt at that moment, Rowan would have said,completion.

“I will allow it.” She snuggled closer. “I feel the worst is over and thus can continue to tolerate your attentions.”

“Don’t be too sure.” He nibbled on her ear.

Pushing herself up on an elbow, the dark pools of her eyes wandered over his face. She looked seductive and wild with her hair spilling over her naked shoulders, not a bit of virginal shyness apparent. Thank God she’d been dressing like a governess for most of her life or he’d be challenging half the men in thetonto duels despite her sour manner. She was rarely sour with him, however. Arabella could even be described as pleasant lately. Jemma jokingly asked at the wedding if Rowan was giving Arabella laudanum to make her more amenable.

He would like to think her change in manner was because of him.

Rowan was not a jealous man by nature. He bore affection for some of his bed partners and others had been purely for physical reasons. There had never been any commitment between he and his lovers. No promises made. Certainly, he’d not been possessive of any of those women. But none of those relationships compared to the way he felt about Arabella.

Challenging. Far more intelligent than was good for a woman. Dark. Prone to deceit. There were many ways to describe her.

Mine.

He’d known from the moment Lady Cupps-Foster asked him to retrieve her from Corbett. He went because shewashis.

Her hand, slim and pale, trailed down his chest, the fingers threading through the dark hair. The hand paused at one of his nipples, rolling it gently between her fingers. She cast a sideways glance at him, wanting to see if her touch affected him. She moved her hand farther, splaying it across the center of his stomach. Her nails gently raked his skin.

This was interesting.His cock twitched at her approach.

Closing his eyes, Rowan was content to allow her to explore. Her touch, neither innocent nor experienced, was incredibly arousing. She paused at the line of hair which led below his waist.

“Go on.” He whispered. “Unless you are afraid.”

A snort of disbelief met his ears, followed by her fingers wrapping around the length of him. “I am many things, Malden, but not a coward.”

“Indeed not, my love.” His breath sucked in as her fingers circled his shaft. She gave him a light, exploratory stroke as if gauging his reaction. When he gave a grunt of pleasure she continued in her ministrations. “No more Malden.” He choked out. “We agreed.” A groan left his lips.

“Oh, yes. I forgot.” She paused. “Did I not do that right? Are you sore as well?”

“I’m not sore.” But his cockwasswelling painfully beneath her touch. If she kept this up he would take her again and shewassore. His hand covered hers.

The dark eyes narrowed. “I am too bold.”

He could feel her retreating from him, even though she hadn’t moved. Arabella was so sensitive to the slightest rejection. He would need to be careful and pay close attention to his words and actions until she trusted him.

A frown started to form on her beautiful lips.

“Bella.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and kissed the end of her nose. “I happen to like your boldness. But even though I am not sore, you are. If you persist in your…worshipof me—”

A small laugh escaped her. “Worship? Oh my, you are very full of yourself, Malden.”

Her laughter aroused him more than any touch of her hand.

“Rowan. Next I know, you will be writing an ode to my eyes. Good Lord, or perhaps my,” he wiggled his eyebrows.

“Cock.” She said the word with absolutely no hesitation.