The Daring Miss Darcy (Lost Ladies of London 4)

He straightened and looked at her, his blue eyes sparkling. “I would have been gentle and tender. I would have taken you slowly, stared into your eyes as I filled your body. I would have given you everything of myself, held nothing in reserve.”

Oh, it sounded so perfect. “Will you not do so now?”

He kissed her, a slow melding of mouths that tugged at the muscles deep in her core. Their tongues danced in a sensual, erotic rhythm. The taste of him fed her addiction, soothed her soul.

“I will do whatever you ask,” he said, breaking contact. “But you must answer one question first.”

She had nothing to fear anymore. This man made her feel strong and invincible. “Ask me anything.”

“Do you love me, Estelle?”

The directness of his question made her catch her breath.

“I am not speaking of how you felt years ago,” he continued. “Or how you felt while living in that hellhole in France. I am speaking about how you feel now. Here. In this moment.”

She did not have to examine her thoughts. The answer lived within in her. Indeed, she heard it before he asked the question. “I have loved you for as long as I can remember. Yes, I love you now as much as I did then.”

One corner of his mouth turned up into a wicked smile. He took her hand, pulled the coverlet back to the end of the bed and gestured for her to lie down.

She sank down into the mattress, gloried in the sight of him rising above her. He lavished her body with tender kisses, tasted her intimately in a place she never imagined he would. His actions were slow, yet she could feel an intense passion barely contained.

He did not bring her to that glorious place where she cried out his name and shuddered in his arms, but it was not far away. Indeed, the feel of him entering her body, of him pushing deep, sent a pleasurable shiver racing to her toes.

Ross cupped her face and kissed her as he withdrew and entered her again.

“Oh, Lord,” she panted for the sensation was beyond anything she had experienced before. It was beautiful, highly arousing. Heavenly. “Do it again.”

Their eyes locked and the power of it touched her soul. “With pleasure.”

He closed his eyes on the next deep, measured thrust. A groan left his lips.

“Give yourself over to me, Ross.” She wrapped her legs more firmly around his waist as he rocked in and out of her.

“Do you like the feel of me inside you?” he breathed before moving to kiss her lips, her chin, to suck her lobe. “Do you like it when I fill you full?”

“Like it? It’s divine.”

Her words brought a slight shift in energy, he quickened the pace, angled his hips in such a way that he rubbed against the intimate place begging for release.

“Oh, Ross,” she gasped as the bed creaked and he drove harder.

“I need to withdraw soon.”

“Don’t.” The foolish word left her lips unwittingly, for common sense played no part in it.

He stopped and looked at her, his eyes heavy with desire. “If I don’t withdraw, you know what that means should there be a child?”

Oh, she knew. Nothing in this world would make her happier. “I know.”

He pushed inside her again. “Then you will swear it before God.”

She didn’t know if he meant to marry her or make her his mistress. “What am I to swear to?”

“That you will marry me. What else?”

“I swear.”

He plunged inside her. Four strokes and they were both hovering on the brink of their release. Her body exploded first, and then he stilled above her, flooding her with the essence of the man she loved, as he would have done on their wedding night. A guttural groan left his lips. They gasped each other’s names. She felt whole, blissfully happy. Surely nothing could come between them now. Surely nothing but happiness lay beyond this night.