"Everything," he echoed, easing back then pushing forward again, testing her pain and her pleasure thresholds, groaning when he discovered them. "Noelle…" He began moving—not slowly and easily, but deeply, totally, melding their bodies with the same fire that infused their love. "Sweetheart … ah, God, Noelle…"
Roaring fireworks blazed to life inside Noelle, each thrust taking her closer to an explosion she wasn't sure she'd survive. Her entire body was gathering, tightening, screaming with its clawing need for release. Her nails scored Ashford's back, and she tossed her head on the cushions, arching and arching until she was crying out with every fiery thrust, aware of nothing save the battering invasion of his body.
Ashford was as wild as she, his hands sliding beneath her bottom, lifting her up to meet each plunging stroke, driving himself harder and farther each time, in an instinctive need to be as deep inside her as possible when he came.
Abruptly, Noelle reached a pinnacle of sensation, a million brilliant lights bursting inside her, then erupting into frenzied spasms of completion that tore through her like lightning. She screamed Ashford's name, her body arching like a bowstring, and he went utterly still, pushing into her contractions, holding himself there and then throwing back his head, shouting her name, his hips pumping wildly as he poured himself into her.
The feeling of his hot seed spurting into her was excruciatingly erotic, and Noelle's climax resurged, the spasms so hard and sharp, she thought she'd faint. Ashford groaned, his own body still shuddering in the throes of release, and he pressed deeper still, crushing her into the cushions and fusing their bodies into one.
They collapsed together, his body blanketing hers, their limbs trembling with reaction, their breaths coming in shallow rasps.
Recovery took a glorious eternity, and Noelle was in no hurry for that eternity to end. Eyes shut, she floated, her entire body boneless, replete, her fingers trailing up and down the sweat-slick planes of Ashford's back.
At last, in slow, jerky motions that seemed to require every remaining ounce of strength, Ashford shifted his weight to his elbows, staring down into Noelle's face, his own expression a mixture of wonder and concern.
"Noelle?" His voice was husky, rough with emotion, taut with worry.
Her lashes fluttered, then lifted. A dreamy smile touched her lips and she reached up, brushed damp strands of hair off his forehead. "H-m-m?"
He caught her wrist, brought her palm to his lips. "Did I hurt you, sweetheart?"
"You made me the happiest woman on earth." Noelle sighed. "Had I known it would be that incredible, I would have accepted your marriage proposal in one second rather than two."
Ashford chuckled, easing them onto their sides, then bending to retrieve his coat from the floor. He covered them both, tucking most of the material around Noelle, tenderly cradling her against him. "If I'd known it was going to be that incredible, I would have married you that first day on the train."
"With Grace as our attendant?" Noelle shook her head. "I think not."
Tipping up her chin, Ashford regarded her soberly, all amusement having vanished. "I'll speak with your father first thing tomorrow. I want my ring on your finger at the first conceivable moment." His eyes darkened. "And speaking of conceiving…" He kissed her, slowly, deeply. "I want my child growing inside you. I want that almost as much as I want you."
Noelle twined her arms about his neck. "Then it's fortunate the two go together." Her voice broke. "I can't believe this is finally happening."
"Believe it. Because before this Season is a few weeks under way, you're going to be Mrs. Ashford Thornton."
"In a month? I doubt that's possible."
"Oh, it's possible, all right," he assured her. "I'll make certain of it."
Somehow Noelle didn't doubt that he would. "Very well." An impish spark lit her eyes. "Although, according to that constable we met, marriage sounds rather bleak—at least from a gentleman's perspective."
A corner of Ashford's mouth lifted. "I'll take my chances." Abandoning the lighthearted banter, he caressed her cheek with his knuckles. "Speaking of which, thank you for intruding tonight when you did. Had it not been for your quick thinking, I'd probably be in prison right now."
Noelle's humor vanished as well. "My job, like yours, is to protect the one I love."
"I realize that." Ashford's expression hardened, yielding that same penetrating intensity Noelle had sensed throughout tonight's robbery—and alerting her to the magnitude of his next words.
"Bearing that in mind, and given that I'm going to have to take you home soon, I think it's time you learned precisely who the man you love is, and what he's guilty of."
* * *
Chapter 15
« ^ »
Noelle regarded Ashford solemnly.
"I already know who he is," she said. "It's only what he does I'm uncertain about." A dismissive shrug. "As for my getting home, don't worry too much about that. Chloe and I worked out a plan that will ensure I get back to my room, undetected. It's far more important that you and I talk." She lay a palm against his jaw. "And I do want to know everything. But first, you know this. Nothing you tell me will change my feelings for you. Nothing."
Ashford's eyes darkened again, this time in wonder rather than passion. "I'm humbled by your faith," he murmured, gathering handfuls of her hair. "I love you, tempête."