Chapter Twenty-Five #2
He spread her with his fingers, readying her for his penetration. And then he was nudging his way inside her, and it stretched, and stung and she couldn’t help tensing up.
He stopped immediately. “Is it too much?”
“It’s a lot,” she said truthfully.
“Relax your muscles,” he instructed. “Breathe deeply. I’ll take it slowly, allow you time to adjust to my girth.”
She nodded, biting her lip. “All right,” she said shakily.
He began moving again, slow and steady, filling her inch by inch. She spread her thighs wider, finding a more comfortable angle.
“Yes, that’s right. Find what feels right, Ana.”
When he was all the way inside, he stopped moving. She could feel him, a stirring, a pulse buried inside her, like a heartbeat.
“Ana. I want you to know pleasure as you’ve never known it before.”
“I already have. Tonight was beautiful, it was melting and urgent . . . I want more of that pleasure. I want more of you, Dex.”
“I’ll give you everything. Everything, Ana.” He held her gaze and began moving gently inside her, a rolling sensation, as though she were a ship riding a wave. “Let me love you.”
The familiar beginning, undulations deep within her belly. “More. I want more.”
He moved faster, thrust deeper inside her.
Her body expanded to fit him; her thighs spread wider.
She lay her head back on the pillow, surrendering completely.
He knew what to do. He knew how to take her to that place that existed outside of time.
A place where the only thing that existed was ecstasy.
“If I touch you while I move inside you, I may be able to give you another climax.”
Waves of pleasure beginning to flow inside her, his body above her, braced on his wrists, looking down at her with a hungry expression.
It was dark, he’d blown out the candles, but she could see the hard lines of him, the jaw, the dark eyes.
The enormous muscles of his arms bulging as he supported his weight above her, moving slowly, slowly. Deliciously.
“Wrap your legs around my hips. Cross your ankles.”
She did as she was told.
“Good, Ana. That’s so good. Now, move with me.”
She didn’t know what he meant intellectually. He was the one moving, thrusting, pulling out and going back in.
Move with him. Move her hips up when he moved his, ankles crossed over his body. She could control him. She understood that suddenly. With little movements of her body, she could control his rhythm, the depth of his thrusts.
“That’s right,” he praised her. “You’re in control now. Show me what you want.”
Wordless felt good. It felt like just letting go of the constant struggle to make the world understand her, to impose her will, to assert control. Here, in this bed, she didn’t have to struggle. She was understood. She was cherished.
He understood that she wanted him to stop for a moment, so she could catch her breath. She didn’t have to tell him. He listened so carefully, his breathing going harsh and ragged from the effort of controlling himself but wanting to do what she needed. And then . . . the need building.
His fingers finding her sex, gently massaging her as he slid in and out. The friction making her gasp. And then he angled deeper, rising above her, the root of him hitting the place where his fingers had been. Every stroke, every slide of him against her bringing her closer to that wordless place.
“That’s it, sweetheart. That’s it, you’re getting closer.
You’re going to come hard. It will last longer this time.
You’re sweating, your hair is damp. You’re so beautiful.
Your lips are swollen because I’ve been kissing you for hours, biting you.
Your lower lips are swollen around my cock.
Gripping me, kissing me, begging for me.
You want me to fuck you. You’re going to beg me for more again and again. ”
She still never expected this torrent of words from this silent man. In the dark, surrounded by velvet, the taste of brandy on his tongue, the lingering scent of his musk and citrus cologne. His gruff commands. The instructions he gave her. The endearments.
“Come for me, sweet Ana. Beautiful Ana.”
It was the endearments that undid her. That made her lose control. Hearing her name in that deep, throaty growl. Hearing him say such tender things. The contrast of his sweet words and the iron of his grip holding her arms above her head, the total control he had over her body.
“Dex . . . Dex, I’m . . .”
“Yes, you’re coming. You’re going to come. You can let go. I’ve got you. I’m here inside you. I’m all around you. Your body is mine, Ana. You’re mine to pleasure. Let go, let me take you there.”
And she did. And it was glorious.
And then as she was still floating, still dancing with pleasure, his movements became more frenzied, he groaned and dropped his full weight onto her body.
“I’m . . . going to come,” he growled. He pushed into her so hard and fast, her body lifted off the bed. He pumped fast, faster, until she thought she couldn’t take anymore and then he shuddered, groaning, sweat dripping from his face, and collapsed against her, his hips jerking.
“Fucking hell, Ana. I’ve never . . . that was . . .”
“It was beautiful,” she whispered, the words demolishing a wall inside her chest, some piece of herself that she’d been keeping separate.
This was no convenient arrangement. This feeling of wanting to own him more completely, give everything to him, body, heart, soul. This loss of control and this needing.
In this moment, limp from pleasure, replete with the warmth of him wrapped around her, the sound of his ragged breathing in her ear, his breath on her cheek.
How close he was holding her as if he would never ever let her go.
As if he couldn’t get enough of her in the same needy way she felt about him.
Was this enough? If this was all she could have of him, his body, his whispered commands, was it enough?
Her mouth filled with words she couldn’t say. I love the way you hold me. I think I could love you. If you let me. I want to melt into you and never be separate again.
Instead, she blurted out what she’d been wanting to tell him for days: “I know your secret.”
He rolled over, his eyes shadowy in the firelit room. “Back to that, are we?” His voice was quieter. She stirred, a bit uneasily.
“I’ve discovered, despite your best efforts to hide it from me, that I’m not the only damsel in distress negatively affected by the war that you’ve rescued. You’re a regular Sir Gawain.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
He had become, if possible, even more motionless. Like a statue in the dim light next to her. She reached for one of his hands.
“Dex, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. You’re a good person.
That’s something to aspire to, to be proud of!
Agnes and Cloris told me about Katherine Miller, and I made the connection to that list of yours I found—she’s Kitty, isn’t she?
And she’s the widow of one of your men who died?
And you’re making sure she’s fed and cared for, and it was probably you who provided her with the funds to keep her house, wasn’t it? ”
“I am not a good person. It was my fault they died. The least I can do is provide for their families.”
“Then you’re admitting it!” she cried triumphantly.
“Aren’t I clever, Dex? I’ve figured you out.
Why you would want to keep your generosity a secret from me is beyond comprehension.
But you can’t hide from me. Like it or not, I’m intimately connected to you now.
I’ll find out every little heroic attribute about you and force you to confront the fact that you, the Duke of Warburton, are changing people’s lives for the better. ”
“After robbing them of the best parts, forcing them into poverty, illness, darkness. Stop it, Ana. Stop talking about this. You can’t understand what it’s been like, all this time, knowing I’d ruined so many lives.
Not just the lives of the enemy, but the lives of men I cared for, and the lives of those they cared for. ”
Ana heard the rawness of his voice, and it broke her heart.
For the first time she could see clearly the magnitude of the burden he carried.
The same burden that had introduced him to her, that had brought them into this marriage together.
She understood, at least that part of him.
It was a large piece to his puzzle, but the solving brought her no joy. Not when he was so obviously anguished.
She touched his arm. “I won’t mention it again, Dex. I thought you might like to hear good things about yourself, most people do. But you aren’t a bit like most people, are you?”
“No.” He turned his head to her, searching her face with unreadable eyes.
She shivered. “Well, I’m glad for that. Most people, it turns out, are predictable. The more I learn about the world, the more I find that to be true.”
“I can think of one thing you might learn tonight that won’t be predictable,” he said, a glint of fire sparking in his steady eyes.
An answering spark lit a fire deep in her belly. She allowed him to roll her over until she was face down on the bed and couldn’t ask him any more questions or confront him with secrets. She allowed her body to take over again.
“Take me again,” she whispered. “Harder this time.”
He held her by the waist as he took her from behind with long, sure strokes. She felt depraved. Desired. Cherished.
It was enough. But only for now.