Page 78 of Made for the Marquess (Second Sons of London 4)

But Minta didn’t want to talk. She wanted to kiss. To touch. To become one with this man. It had been almost a week since they had made love on their wedding night.

She latched on to his coat’s lapels and pulled him toward her, their mouths melding and fusing. The passion sparked quickly between them as they lost themselves in the kiss, which continued on and on. Frantic not to lose him, Minta continued kissing him, unknotting his cravat and slipping the buttons of his waistcoat undone. He seemed as eager for her, almost tearing her clothes from her, stripping her of her layers of garments quickly, discarding them to the floor.

Soon, they were both naked and in each other’s arms. Minta began kissing his neck, hearing the growl deep in his throat. She moved lower, knowing how much she had enjoyed his hands and mouth on her breasts. She tweaked his nipples and then circled her tongue about one, hearing him suck in a quick breath. She moved her hands, touching him everywhere.

Even his manhood.

It sprang to life in her hands and she stroked it lovingly. It was as strong as steel yet encased in velvet. She ran the pad of her thumb over the tip and found a bead of moisture there, spreading it. He groaned again and caught her wrist.

“Keep doing that and I will spend before I can get inside of you,” he growled.

“I don’t mind,” she told him. “I want to please you as you did me.”

Minta walked him to the bed, him backward and her nudging him on until he bumped into the mattress and fell onto it, taking her with him. Laughing, she walked her hands down his body until she grasped his cock in one and stroked it. Then bending, she kissed it.

Percy moaned.

She smiled.

Not knowing exactly what she should do but letting instinct guide her, she opened her mouth, taking him in, gliding her tongue along his long length.

“Yes,” he hissed.

She continued experimenting on him, knowing what she did seemed to be working by the noises he made.

Then he grabbed her waist and lifted her, setting her down upon his shaft and lowering her upon it.

It was the most delicious feeling ever.

“Ride me,” he commanded hoarsely.

Once again, she hadn’t a clue what to do but between his hands on her waist and her moving, he seemed pleased. Minta realized she took him in more deeply in this position—and she could better control her own pleasure. Soon, their sweat-slicked bodies danced together in a timeless fashion and she felt the rising pressure grow and grow until it erupted. She cried out in pleasure and he did the same.

Collapsing atop him, she kept him inside her, her cheek nestled against his wildly beating heart. Gradually, it slowed.

He lifted her from him and nestled her against him, as two spoons might fit together. This was everything she had wanted. To love him. To be with him.

She struggled to stay awake, wanting to revel in the feel of his hard body against hers, his arms about her. It was impossible, though, and her eyelids slowly drooped and darkness engulfed her.

When Minta awoke, the bedclothes were tucked about her.

And she was alone. Again.

Why did he leave her? Why were they as close as two humans could possibly be and then he felt the need to desert her each time?

Determination filled her. Although it was almost light, Minta decided to go to her husband. Louisa had mentioned how wonderful making love was as sunlight poured into the room, bathing Owen’s body. Minta wanted to see her husband’s beautiful form in the light of day. She wanted to hold on to him as they made love and never let go.

Slipping from the bed, she pulled on her dressing gown and cut through the various rooms until she reached his door, hoping it would be unlocked. She felt a bit guilty entering his rooms uninvited but thought she was his wife. This was now her house as much as it was his. Nothing was going to stop her from climbing into her husband’s bed and showing him how much she cared for him.

She turned the knob and pushed open the door, grateful he hadn’t thrown the lock in order to keep her out. She moved across the bedchamber toward the bed, hearing how restless Percy was, moving all about the bed, mumbling in his sleep. A small bit of sunlight was starting to make its way inside the room and she gazed down upon her husband, love for this man filling her heart.

Her hand moved to smooth his hair when a bloodcurdling scream erupted.

For a moment, Minta froze, frightened by the suddenness and intensity of the noise. She watched as Percy’s eyes flew open, filled with terror, and he wheeled, burying his face in the pillows and yanking the bedclothes over his head. The scream continued, though muffled, as he thrashed about, his body quivering violently. Then he raised up on all fours, a guttural groan sounded from him like some wounded animal.

She moved toward him instinctively and wrapped her arms about his torso, pressing her cheek against his back. He stiffened and grabbed her wrists, jerking them apart, freeing himself from her grasp.

He wheeled and she saw half a dozen emotions flicker across his face, one after the other. Fear seemed to dominant them but she also caught pain, regret, and then anger, which surged to the forefront.

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