Page 17 of Claiming His Estranged Viscountess (Rogues from War 2)

Desire set free, he let it reign. He moved blindly, seeking pleasure like crazy. And found it. With such a wrenching intensity, he feared he would pass out. He grunted without an ounce of finesse, primal. He delivered all he had in waves of spurts that took him to another dimension entirely. He fell on her, incapable of moving. She cradled him embracing him. His body gave way; he stayed there for long minutes, savouring her, her warmth, her breathing, her receptiveness. Never had he been so… nurtured as at that precise moment. Eyes closed, he relished in her. He adjusted his weight to the mattress, but kept their bodies joined. He wanted not to leave her embrace. Ever! With that, slumber vanquished him.

Aurelia awoke in the middle of the night with a sense of… completeness. Warmth surrounded her. Limbs entangled in an elaborate embrace, bed sheets and counterpane wrinkled around them. He held her in his sleep, on his belly, half over her, his mouth touching the curve of her neck, breathing goose bumps in her sensitive skin. She stayed there for a long time revelling in this unusual intimacy. Her blank eyes fixed on the bed’s canopy, she sighed, her mind peregrinating.

She had never experienced this level of intimacy in those years. It became strange, and she did not know how to deal with it. She wished she had more information of how other married couples did it. But she did not, she would have to find the way herself. A sense of misplacement… contentment. She did not want to. Did not want to get used to it, to take it for granted. Then miss it, crave it, not have it. What good would it do?

She had loved him so much! Only heartbreak came of it. Nothing else would come of it, with utter certainty. If she acquiesced herself to fall for him again, it would destroy her, this heart would be a barren place; she would lose all sentiment, hope. Life. She would not allow it to happen. Once almost dried her out. There should not be a second time.

Trying not to wake him, she disentangled from him little by little. The bed was so cosy and inviting, his body so heavenly against hers. She nearly succumbed to her will to remain in it. The fire on the fireplace dying, giving the room an inviting glow. She put her legs out of his bed, out of his embrace. The little light made her see where her clothes lay scattered. She collected them and tiptoed to her chamber through the connecting door.

Between her cold bed sheets, she endeavoured to get a modicum of sleep. She fell into a dormancy full of erotic images.

Conrad awoke with a sated sensation he did not remember having ever had. His bedsheets wrinkled like a nest. Images of last night played in his mind, arousing him. He groaned and his arm moved looking for her, eyes still closed. His bed cold. He opened his dark lashes to daylight seeping through the worn-out curtains. She was nowhere to be seen. Loneliness descended onto him. He wanted her here, with him! He wanted her again. And again. Bloody hell!

She evaded him once more. He would not earn her trust, would he? Her body, well her body became his last night. Oh, Last night! It had been the second time he had really enjoyed sex, in the full sense of it. He learned fast that sleeping with any woman might be completely different from sleeping with the woman he wanted, terribly. Satisfying the urges of the moment, as he had done his entire life, came to be an arid experience, divested of all its due importance. Unlike last night; he could call that being with a woman! Even though he wanted to have slept with her, the whole night, wake up by her side and–and renew the enjoyment.

He threw the bed sheets over and jumped out of bed. It would be a waste of time to stay in it mulling over things he could not have. Better go help her and lighten her burdens.

Chapter Seven

Conrad rode to the fair where he knew she would be. He did not need to look long for her. As soon as he spotted a group of people, he saw her in the middle of it. She conversed and smiled at everyone, so sociable, he found it difficult to fit it with the withdrawn wife he dealt with at the manor.

Today, she dressed a water-green day dress, not in the latest fashion, but pleasant all the same, a shawl wrapped around her shoulders. Her bonnet shaded her perfect face. The amenable weather made for a cool temperature and a cool sun in between clouds. The light played with her features, resembling a Branwell Bronte’s portrait. He made a mental note to commission a portrait for her. Her beauty deserved no less.

The fair itself stretched over the main street and beyond with several booths selling the most varied products from food to clothing, shoes and riding gear. Many people walked about in groups, pairs or alone.

He tied his horse and approached the group. The ladies curtsied, the men nodded. He turned to her, eyes full of hidden messages; he bowed and kissed her hand in a slow caress. “Good morning, my Lady Strafford.” His voice sounding hoarser than he intended.

His eyes on her brought back their steamy… exchange of last night and heat suffused her cheeks. Her breath caught in her throat and she had to blink several times to shake the effect he had on her.

Aurelia was dumbfounded with his arrival and his courteousness towards everybody. Talk about his never coming to the fair! Early morning alone in her bed had been no congenial task, by the way; she survived anyway. She left soon after breakfast in the hopes of keeping distant from him all day. It appeared he would allow her no such a thing.

She curtsied. “Good day, my lord.” She tried for a bland smile, but it came out provocative and… evocative.

The surrounding people watched the communication attentively. They had

told her he and she looked besotted last night. She cursed her behaviour then. She should have stayed home when she saw he intended to come. Miss the fun though? Never! He could go to blasted hell. Not to mention the way the night ended. A fiery wave crossed her body at the memory. A memory she could not stop replaying over and over again. It made her melt and crave. Yearn, like a blushing debutante! Damn him!

“Isn’t it a beautiful idea?” The strident Lady Johnson was saying.

Aurelia’s distraction with her husband made her lose the thread of the conversation. She looked around at a loss what to answer.

“My Lady Johnson, we would be honoured to come for tea, doubtlessly!” Conrad came to her rescue.

“Oh, certainly, Lady Johnson.” She amended hastily.

“We are settled then.” Conrad again. “Now, if you allow me, I would like my wife to show me the novelties of the fair.”

“Of course, my lord.” They agreed.

He offered her his arm, leaving her with no other option than to follow him.

“What are you doing here?” She demanded between her teeth after they distanced from the group.

“You left my bed quite in a hurry, I should say.” To which a renewed wave of blasting heat assailed her. “I wanted to ask what the reason for it might be.” He smiled blandly, his eyes so intent on her shaded face she feared she might catch fire.

“Why can’t you just keep to yourself?” Her anger a notch higher.

“As far as I see, the fair is a public place.” He placed his hand over the gloved one of hers, causing a veritable gale in her guts. “I have the right to be here as much as you.”

---