Page 75 of The Lady’s Guide to Deception and Desire
He reached further and she was aware of his finger touching where she ached most for him, stroking between the folds of her sex.
“Benedict!” Her eyes flew wide as he found the tiny nub. Her hands, upon his shoulders, squeezed hard, and she froze.
A force—breathtaking, shattering—drove through her. It was so great, so unexpected, that she threw back her head, gasping in great gulps, crying, laughing.
The bolt of sensation rippled down to her toes and to the peak of her breasts. She shuddered and quivered, and while the waves were still moving, Benedict took her by the hips and anchored her to his own body.
He entered her not with his finger but with the thickness she craved, and she spasmed again to feel him there.
“Rosie, my Rosie.” His eyes closed as he jerked upward, sliding through her open wetness.
He gave only three thrusts before his own torrent crashed upon him, and she felt the pulse of his body rising through her.
But she was glad; gloriously, deliriously.
In a startling cascade that left her giddy and tingling.
Because the pleasure wasn’t just hers, but his too.
It was theirs, and it was all more than she could have imagined.
Afterward,she curled against him, warm and soft, and slid her hand across his chest. Pulling her closer, Benedict settled his wife into his side, glad that she was his. He wanted to hold her like this forever.
He knew how their life would be. He would love her unreservedly, and she’d know she was loved, without question.
He rested his cheek to the crown of her head, nuzzling her hair. “I’ll never let harm come to you. I’ll be right here, and I’ll try to make you happy. I promise.”
She shifted onto her elbow so that she was looking down at him, and her eyes shone. “I am. More than I thought I ever could be. We’ll make each other happy. Whatever’s in your heart, you must tell me, and I’ll do the same. Every day, we’ll make the choice to love one another, and to show it.”
Rosamund brought her lips to his and he wrapped her tight again.
There were more ways to cherish one another than could be counted, and he intended to explore them all. Together, the possibilities were endless, and the adventure of love was only just beginning.
Epilogue
Osmington beach
October, 1903
Rosamund setdown her brush and closed the lid on her watercolours.
The sky was changing too quickly. It had been blue when she began but the sun was fast descending. There was far more yellow now, and pink and orange. She couldn’t keep up.
“Melinda! Tommy!” she called to the children jumping in and out of the waves, a spaniel and Jack Russell splashing alongside them. “Ten more minutes, then you must dry your feet.”
“Truly?” The girl gave a disappointed wail. “Binky and Hercules are having such fun.”
A masculine voice joined Rosamund’s from the direction of the cliffs. “No arguing with your mother.”
Reaching her, he came to sit on the sand. “Found this for you. Hold out your hand.”
Into it he placed something cold and hard and curving.
“Another ammonite.” She smiled. It was one of many he’d given her over the years. Just like the first. “Did the sea sound the same back then, do you think? On this beach, when this creature was alive?”
“The cliffs would have extended further, but I expect so. The sea is always the sea, no matter what else changes.” He nuzzled her ear and placed his hand over the small swell of her belly. “We all have our time, don’t we?”
He could always tell, when she was feeling a little melancholy.
