At Last the Rogue Returns (Avenging Lords 1)

Lydia did as he asked, drawing him deeper. “Like that?” Oh, Lord.

“Hmm. Just like that.” His emerald eyes locked with hers. The powerful connection that existed between them grew stronger with each slow thrust. “Once you’re used to the feel of me inside you, I shall push past your maidenhead. And then I shall make you mine—in every conceivable way.”

“Do it now. Don’t wait.” Contradicting emotions battled for supremacy. The need to rush, to hurry, fought with the need to make this moment last a lifetime.

He bent his head, sucked her nipples to peak as he slipped in and out of her. The bulging swell of muscles in his arms and shoulders held her riveted. She ran her hands over the bronzed contours, relished the smoothness of his skin.

Greystone was a magnificent man.

Lydia knew the moment he was ready to take her fully. He claimed her mouth, the wild dance of their tongues sending delightful pulses to her core. And then he thrust once—long and hard and deep, so deep.

“Oh, God, Lydia.” His eyes danced hot and feverish. “It feels so good to be inside you.”

She clutched his arms and held her breath as the slight stinging sensation passed.

He stilled above her, watching. “Are you all right? Do you wish to continue?”

“I’m perfectly fine.” Lydia smiled. “And yes, I want to continue. Very much so.”

Relief passed over his handsome face. “Thank the Lord, for this is the only place I want to be.” To tease her, he withdrew slightly, only to thrust inside her again. “Do you like that?”

Lydia’s breath caught in her throat. “You … you know I do.”

He moved slowly at first, each long slide filling her full. His measured strokes fanned the fire within. Lydia grabbed his firm buttocks and urged him to hurry. He captured her hands, held her arms above her head, ground against her, pounded harder, quicker.

The bed rocked, the mahogany frame creaking in unison.

A moan of ecstasy slipped through her lips.

Their ragged pants echoed through the room.

He squashed her into the mattress as he claimed her in the wild, untamed way she found so utterly irresistible.

“I’ll not last much longer,” he gasped. “But I want you to come again.”

He withdrew, came to lie on his side behind her. Hot hands caressed her breasts, those nimble fingers soon finding their way between her legs. Lydia draped her thigh over his, opened herself to allow him to do whatever he pleased. He stroked her in the expert way that drove her wild, and then he was inside her again, deep inside.

“Greystone,” she cried as her world shattered suddenly and she almost said “I love you.” She shuddered, the muscles in her core pulsing, hugging his shaft.

On a guttural groan he withdrew again, his seed spurting over her thigh. Never would she forget the look of satisfaction etched on his face.

They took a moment to catch their breath.

Both sighed in sated exhaustion.

“I hope I have met your expectations,” he teased as his hand came to rest on her hip.

“Without exception, it was the most … the most thrilling moment of my life.”

An arrogant smile played on his lips. “Until next time.”

Next time?

Those two words sent her heart soaring.

Love for him filled her chest.

She wanted to stay at the manor and never leave. But the stark reality of her situation hung over her like an executioner’s axe. She had no clothes, no belongings. Cecil was her legal guardian. She could not force herself on Greystone and so had no choice but to return to home.