Page 50 of Pregnant With His Majesty's Heir

Lucien tried and failed to repress the need to slide his erection against her warm curves. He bit his lip, forcing back a sigh of raw pleasure.

‘You’re awake.’

Lucien’s eyes snapped open, taking in the pale light of dawn. ‘Sorry,’ he murmured. ‘I didn’t mean to wake you.’ But now she was awake he fitted her more closely against him, fanning out his fingers across the silky skin of her abdomen. Excitement shot through him. His child was in there. Tiny, vulnerable, but alive.

His grin widened. This time it had nothing to do with sex. Or not as much, he corrected, as Aurélie moved, hips twitching in a shuffle that teased his tight groin.

‘I’ve been awake for a while.’

Lucien’s grin faded as he tried to read her tone. Was it pensive? Distracted? Had she lain there thinking through her list of objections to marriage?

His mouth firmed. Whatever it took, Aurélie would marry him, and soon.

‘How are you feeling?’ He glanced past the undrawn curtains to where the sky pinkened around the peak on the opposite side of the valley. ‘Any morning sickness?’

She shook her head, her hair tickling him. ‘Not at all, surprisingly. Not yet, anyway.’

Lucien heard a world of weariness in her tone. Despite the dictates of his body, it reminded him of how tough things were for her at the moment.

Reluctantly he lifted his hand from her warm flesh. ‘I’ll go and let you catch up on sleep.’ He clenched his jaw, preparing to move away, despite an internal howl of protest.

Her hand on his stopped him. She planted his palm on her hip as she twisted a little, looking over her shoulder.

The movement of her buttocks against his erection made the breath hiss between his gritted teeth. Her rich brown gaze met his and it was as if it had a direct line to his libido. Try as he might, he couldn’t prevent the throb of his arousal against her.

Aurélie’s lips twitched. ‘You’re a morning person.’

He shrugged. His throat dried with the effort it took to hold still. If her lush body wasn’t temptation enough, that almost-smile shredded his resolve to give her space.

‘So am I. Usually.’

He nodded. ‘I understand.’ Even if she wasn’t nauseous, she was probably fragile in the morning. She wouldn’t want...

His heart hit his ribs as she pulled his hand up to cover her breast. Automatically his fingers closed around her ripe curves. Riper, surely, than before?

Lucien nuzzled her neck, brushing away wavy locks, then gently bit down at the spot where her shoulder curved up to her neck.

‘Ah!’ She arched, her derrière pushing back hard. Pleasure scudded through him.

‘You like that?’ He sounded smug and didn’t care. He liked it when Aurélie forgot to argue and throw up obstructions. When she was responsive and downright needy. ‘When we’re married we can do this as often as you like. And more, much more.’

Gently he pinched her nipple, feeling her shudder of response and the rolling wave of excitement that made her undulate against him. He pushed his knee up high between her legs. Her choked moan was music to his ears.

‘When,notif?’ she gasped. ‘You take a lot for granted.’

‘You know it’s the best option.’ He kissed her neck, breathing in the scent of spring and needy woman. ‘Best for our baby.’ He slid his hand to her belly, feeling that surge of excitement over his child growing there. ‘Best for us too, Aurélie. I promise you won’t regret it.’

On the words he moved his hand to the downy hair at the juncture of her thighs, slipping through damp folds to the slick heat at her core.

A shudder erupted. From her or him? Either way, feeling her readiness for sex, hearing her laboured breaths, made him harder than ever.

Yet Lucien understood the art of negotiation. Reluctantly he lifted his hand and withdrew his knee from between her thighs. It was torture, since Aurélie wasn’t the only one straining for completion.

‘Lucien!’ She grabbed his hand and pulled it towards her, but her strength was no match for his. ‘Why did you stop?’ It sounded like a sob.

‘I’m waiting for you to say yes.’

‘YouknowI want you!’ She sounded petulant. Lucien imagined her pouting mouth and, despite his determination to make her wait, couldn’t stop the tilt of his hips that brought him into delicious friction with her bare rump.

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