Page 87 of Unbound Duchess

Soon. Soon, but not right now—and right now, all she wanted was for Laurence to keep going.

She lifted her arms, an ache shooting through her tired muscles as she boldly slid them around the back of Laurence’s neck.

“I was thinking of you as well, you know,” she confessed, arching her back into his chest.

A low groan poured from Laurence’s throat as her backside slid sensually against his length, and with one arm still pinned around her waist, he drew the other up, his hand creating a necklace of fingers around her throat.

“You were?” he asked, his voice dipping into the deep, husky tone she loved so much.

“Yes,” she breathed, shudders moving down her body as the arm around her waist shifted, and fingertips began to draw gentle trails from her navel, up to the valley of her breasts, then down to the apex of her thighs.

“Tell me,” he rasped, those magic fingers of his starting to swirl in slow circles over the bud of nerves between her legs; it was already sensitive and hungry with need.

Ellen let out a soft whimper as those slow strokes drove her deeper into languid desire.

“I thought that I would not see you again,” she confessed, her voice turning low and breathy as her body surrendered to the pleasure. “That I would never get to feel you touch me like this again.”

Laurence brushed another kiss along her throat as his hand circled her throat and dipped to her breasts. He teasingly thrummed his fingertips against her already taut and sensitive nipples as his other hand continued making those lovely swirls over her clitoris.

“That sounds like torture,” he rasped, then gently dragged his teeth across her shoulder. She gasped at the slight pain, but it quickly shifted into a moan as his tongue lapped over the small abrasion, taking the sting away and replacing it with pleasure.

“Yes,” she gasped, arching further into his touch.

“But you came back to me,” he murmured, his fingers dipping to her tight sheath, “like the wonderful little wife you are; you came back to me.”

A moan poured from Ellen’s throat as Laurence slid two fingers into her tight, wet channel. Tiny white fireworks began to explode behind her closed eyes as he set his hand to a steady, sensual rhythm, rocking her in such a way the bathwater began to lap at the sides of the tub.

“Such a good little wife you are,” he crooned into her ear, squeezing her breast as he pressed her tighter to him. “I do not say that enough. There are many things I do not say enough, but I plan to.”

Ellen whimpered, her climax growing closer as Laurence worshipped her body.

“I can understand how a man could become obsessed with you,” he whispered, a growling undertone entering his voice as his fingers moved harder, faster. “You are so, so very good, Ellen. Only a fool would be blind to your beauty, your goodness, your strength.”

It was too much. The heartache of what was about to happen. The praise that contradicted what he was about to do. The pleasure that was building within her core at such a heady speed.

“Don’t say such things,” she whimpered, caught half between a sob and a moan, her heart breaking at the same time as her pleasure was reaching its earth-shattering pinnacle.

“You know it is true,” he whispered, his deep voice dragging her further toward the pleasure as the world began to spin.

His fingers dove faster, further, reaching a spot inside of her she never knew existed, and with that touch, her mouth fell open, her back arched, and she let out a strangled cry as her world shattered into pleasure-filled starlight.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

“Where are you going?” Laurence asked.

He watched as Ellen stood on trembling legs, no doubt still weak from her orgasm, and climbed carefully over the edge of the tub. She said nothing as he reached for her robe and wrapped it tightly around her as if it were a shield.

“Has the water grown too cold?” he asked, following her every movement as she began to dry her hair.

Again, Ellen did not answer. Did not even look at him as she sat in a chair and began wringing water from her dark tendrils.

Worry slithered into his mind, making his already taut body grow to stone as he felt the shift in mood between them. He scowled as he looked down at the water’s surface, self-loathing and doubt leeching into him.

“I was too rough, wasn’t I?” he said, looking down at his hands. He’d tried so hard to tuck that rougher side of himself away for her. After what she had just gone through, she needed nothing but softness. His true self had broken through, despite that awareness, and he hated himself for it.

“No,” Ellen said, her soft voice full of pain as she finally spoke to him.

He looked at her, his eyes pleading for her to be honest. Several heartbeats passed before she finally met his eyes, and his heart twisted when he saw them brimming with tears.