Page 80 of Kathryn

So be it. If she wanted cold, calculated servicing, he would bloody well give it to her.

He shrugged off his banyan and flung it away, not caring where it landed or if he could find it again afterward, and clumsily climbed up onto the bed.

His hands shook as he shoved her nightgown up to her waist.

She spread her thighs for him, but when he reached for her sex—to ready her—she flinched and tried to pull her legs closed. “Please don’t. Just…do it.”

Gerrit gritted his teeth so hard it was a miracle they didn’t shatter. He lowered to one elbow, his movements jerky with anger, and took his cock in his hand. It was as hard as ever, evidently not sharing his brain’s distaste for what was about to happen.

Not since his very first time with the mistress his father had engaged for him when Gerrit had been fifteen had he mounted a woman so selfishly and taken his release.

But if that was what Kathryn wanted? Then, by God, he would give it to her.

***

Katie felt the rage radiating off Dulverton in the darkness. Indeed, it amazed her how easily she could read the language of his body even though she could not see him. She kept waiting for him to say something—preferably no—but something told her she would be waiting a long, long time.

She bit her lip to keep from making any sound when he dragged his slick crown against her soaked, swollen sex. He jolted—as if surprised to discover how wet she was after issuing such a cold declaration—and Katie silently cursed her eager body. But it wanted what it wanted without any care for what her heart or mind preferred.

So did her hips, which tilted to take him deeper, a shudder rippling through her at the exquisite stretch. Rather than pause to allow her time to adjust, as he normally did, he worked her with thrusts so relentless and savage that each one drove her up the bed. Being penetrated—just the notion of having his body inside hers—was always enough to make her hungry for him, but tonight the pleasure that usually coiled inside her until she could no longer contain it was slow to build. And when—scant seconds later—Dulverton’s pounding grew faster and wilder, Katie knew that this time, unlike all the others, he would not ensure that she reached her climax before him.

He plunged uncomfortably deep, and his big body froze, his thick shaft swelling deliciously and almost pushing her toward the edge.

Katie tightened her inner muscles around him until she was close, so close, so—

But then his body stiffened again, not with arousal, but with awareness—he knew she was on the brink of release—and he abruptly withdrew, leaving her shockingly empty.

Katie clenched her hands, frustration suffusing her as he slid off the mattress. This was not going the way she had planned—had hoped. He’d not resisted or insisted. He’d just… accepted.

She opened her mouth to tell him that she had been wrong—that she’d not meant what she’d said earlier—but the words stuck in her throat like burrs.

“Goodnight, Kathryn.” He opened the door and disappeared into his room, leaving her alone with only doubt and need for company.

Chapter Twenty

Gerrit looked up at the sound of the knock, but the door opened without a response from him, and his mother entered, dressed in her traveling clothes. Pink, of course.

He grimaced. It was barely six o’clock. Gerrit had not believed she would be awake and ready to leave so early or he would have left the house even earlier. He sighed and got to his feet. “What can I do for you, Your Grace?”

Rather than take a seat, she strode to the front of his desk. “I will only take a moment of your time, Gerrit.”

He raised his eyebrows, willing her to get on with it.

“I wish I did not have to leave right now, but—”

Gerrit sneered. “But your lover needs you.”

Her gaze briefly flickered ceilingward—as if she were seeking divine assistance—and then she sighed heavily, looked him directly in the eyes, and said, “You need to give your marriage a chance, Gerrit. You need to give Katie—”

“It astounds me that you believe I want your advice about my marriage. Or anything else, for that matter.”

“You can insult me, Gerrit, but it does not erase the fact that you are slowly killing off the delicate shoot that is your future happiness. I know about your mistress in Lyme. I know you plan on following in Boon’s footsteps just as you have done in every other—”

“You are keeping my horses standing, madam. It is time you were off. Past time.”

“You cannot make me stop loving you, Gerrit.”

“I do not want your love,” he seethed. “I never have and—”