Undercover Duke, стр. 55

Being joined to him this way felt odd—and entirely unexpected—but it was also a pleasure all its own. It made them one. Husband and wife. The fulfillment of everything she’d hoped to have from him.

Well, not quite everything, but she wouldn’t think about that now.

“Better?” His voice was rough and thick, as if he fought to keep going.

Or perhaps to keep going slow? She wasn’t sure. “Yes.” She was growing warm down below and sort of tingly. It was rather pleasant. She even found the filled-up sensation enjoyable . . . when she wasn’t finding it uncomfortable. “Mostly better, anyway.”

“Put your legs around my waist and hook your ankles together,” he said.

Normally she would have balked at his commanding tone, but he was in charge of this since she had absolutely no idea what she was doing. She changed her position in the way he’d ordered, and instantly the tingling became something wildly pleasurable.

“Oh!” she said, her eyes shooting open. “Oh, my. That is . . . quite . . . a bit better. . . .”

He chuckled. “I thought it . . . might be.”

He was hers now. For good. Her husband. And they could do this together whenever they pleased. She smiled up at him, her hands stroking his curly hair.

Uttering a moan, he bent to kiss her forehead. “Ah, Vanessa. You will be my downfall. And just now I don’t . . . care. As long as I can have this . . . with you.”

My downfall. The words should have hurt. Instead, they made her exult. He wasn’t immune to her. And that was quite a bit better than she’d anticipated.

Now he began to drive into her more quickly, his eyes like flames igniting her above as his “cock” ignited her below. He rubbed one particular spot down there with his finger, too, somehow improving the already amazing feelings sweeping through her.

“Oh, Sheridan,” she moaned. “My darling husband. You are . . . magnificent.”

“So . . . are . . . you. . . .” he murmured.

Now she was the leaf being carried along by the river’s current, faster and faster as he thrust into her more quickly. Vanessa’s hands slipped down to grip his remarkably broad and muscular shoulders as she held on for dear life. Something was about to happen—she could feel it down below—and the more she strained into him, the closer it seemed to approach. Her blood rushed in her ears, the way the river rushed forward toward a precipice, and she just let it . . . come.

“My wife . . .” he managed. “My duchess . . . my goddess . . .”

The words pushed her over the edge, sending her falling, falling toward the churning, tumbling waters below. And when she plunged beneath the surface, her body shook, and she fell back nearly insensible as he drove hard into her and gave a hoarse cry.

It was glorious.

Sheridan lay there on his side beside his new wife and tried to arrange his senses into some semblance of order. Bloody hell, had he really called her his “goddess” there at the end? He had not expected to lose his mind quite that thoroughly.

He had not expected her.

Now that she was curled up against his side, eyes closed, with the covers pulled up under her arms and a contented smile gracing her face, all he could think was how beautiful she looked, with her raven curls tumbled about her shoulders and her alabaster skin aglow.

Or perhaps he was imagining that last part, one effect of the fever in his brain that came whenever he was near her. She still wore his pearls, and that, too, stirred his cock. To be honest, everything about her did.

He chuckled at the thought of how she’d insisted upon his undressing while she watched, right in the midst of his grand seduction. That had definitely aroused him. To have her gaze regarding him with such fascination . . .

Good God. Every time he turned around, she said or did something to tempt him. Not to mention, catch him off guard.

Now he understood what society meant when it dubbed a woman a diamond of the first water. Because Vanessa had more facets than any finely cut gemstone, and every moment he was with her, she showed a new one. He wondered how long it would take for him to discover them all. Even now, the very way she lay showed him new curves he’d missed caressing, soft places he’d missed kissing, and a thousand other small details it would take him a lifetime to catalog.

He sat up, annoyed with himself. He was turning into the most maudlin fellow ever. She didn’t have to wrap him about her finger. He was doing it for her.

She opened her eyes, a slumberous look on her face. “I need to ask a favor of you.”

“What sort of favor?” he asked suspiciously. Given the way he’d been thinking of her, if she asked him for the moon, he’d probably try to kidnap it from the sky.

Worry knit her brow as she laid her hand on his chest. “Do you think you could . . . well . . . promise me you will never do with another woman what we just did together?” She cast him a quick, darting look. “That you’ll take no mistresses as long as I’m alive?”

The request took him aback. Why would he need a mistress? Vanessa was more than enough for him. “No mistresses. I promise.” When relief brightened her face, he added, “Will you promise the same?”

She blinked. “Certainly. I promise never to take a mistress.” Then she laughed gaily, dispelling some of the tension between them.

“Very amusing, minx.” He tipped her chin up with one finger. “I will get you for that later.”

“Oh, I dearly hope so. Just make sure it’s something wonderfully naughty. I’ve only just discovered I rather like being naughty. At least with you.”

When his blood began to race once more, he