“What is it, darling?” Fenton was at her side in an instant, drawing her against him. “Is everything all right?”
“Oh, Fenton, when I’m your viscountess we can do this any time we wish.”
The puzzled concern on his face was adorable. He touched her cheek. “That will be wonderful, won’t it?” His tone was uncertain.
Fanny bit her lip. “Oh, Fenton, I’m having second thoughts.” She covered her face with her hands, pretending real distress as he gripped her shoulders and put her away from him.
“Second thoughts?” There was no trace of amusement in his voice. “You certainly appeared to enjoy our bedroom sport. Have you any complaints? Why, we are not even married, Fanny, and yet we’ve…we’ve made love like rabbits five times. Are you telling me now that you’re dissatisfied with proceedings?”
She dropped her hands. Lord, he appeared so adorably vulnerable with that look of concern that indicated he feared his performance was not up to her exacting standards that she had to suppress a giggle.
“Oh, it was all wonderful, Fenton, truly it was. But I have such a low boredom threshold. I mean, perhaps I’ll be bored by the sixth time. It’s usually about the sixth time I start to get bored with something and until a few days ago I knew nothing of all this.” She shrugged as expressively as she could. “Will the sixth be any different or have you demonstrated your entire repertoire?”
“You little wench!” Correctly interpreting the quirk of her lips and arch look he finally realised she was teasing him.
With a squeal she landed on her back upon the bed, looking up into Fenton’s burning eyes as he caged her body with his.
“Three minutes!” he muttered as he lowered his face to plunder her mouth, coming up for air to add, “Enough time to give you an experience you won’t forget and deliver you to the parson with sufficient self-respect so we can both hold our heads up in front of the gathered company.”
He lowered his head to kiss her, his erection jutt
ing into her belly, his breathing, fast and furious, heating her ear while his artful fondling between her legs heated her blood.
“Lesson number six,” he growled as he raised his head.
She gasped as she received him, bunching the counterpane in her fists and squeezing shut her eyes as he worked his magic. Never before had she felt him so deep. Arching her back to meet him at each thrust, she cried out as her beloved husband-to-be pounded into her, burying himself to the hilt.
“Oh, God!” she moaned as his pleasuring heightened each spiral of sensation and his deep thrusting seemed to reach the very core of her.
“Harder! Harder!” she shrieked as he pounded into her and she felt her inner being claw its way to the summit. Higher and higher she climbed, despite knowing she was entering dangerous, unknown territory until she was balancing on the precipice, her senses suspended in an agony of thrilling excitement before a final thrust sent her over the edge.
“Oh, Fenton!” she cried out as her body seemed to combust in a shower of fiery embers. A red haze swirled behind her eyes as she felt Fenton’s fingers digging into her upper arms while he continued his thrusting until, with an orgasmic howl, he, too, collapsed, boneless on top of her.
For a moment neither moved nor spoke. The landscape had changed. They were altered, inside and out. Bound forever in that moment, even before they intoned the vows that would unite them inextricably in the eyes of the church.
“That was…exquisite,” she whispered, conscious of the wonderful feel of him, inside and out. It took her several minutes to recover her breath sufficiently to add, “I’m convinced.”
“And you’re wonderful.” As if he were drawing on his final reserves of strength, Fenton withdrew, drawing her up against his chest and holding her close.
His adoring look lanced her heart and Fanny squeezed his hand. “Let’s get ourselves married now, shall we, darling?” she whispered.
He nodded, adding in a rush as he stayed her from rising, “Fanny, I’m so sorry I believed Bramley’s unfounded allegations.” He buried his face in her hair, adding wryly, “Though I think Bramley will feel he’s been served more than his just desserts when he gazes upon the squalling Quamby heir eight months from now and sees his own thuggish nose.”
Fanny pulled away to frown at him. “Antoinette is flighty but I’m sure she never went quite so far before accepting Lord Quamby’s suit.”
Her frown was obliterated by Fenton’s kiss, even as she knew her defence of her sister was completely unfounded.
“She certainly did, and the talk’s all over town.” Fenton took her hand and helped her off the bed. “It’s just fortunate she’s been taken up by His Grace and everyone knows that at least if the child she bears isn’t her husband-to-be’s it will have been foisted on her by Lord Quamby’s heir.”
Fanny sighed happily. “Mama is so pleased.”
“Enough about Antoinette. Here are your stays, madam.” Fenton assisted her with her undergarments before helping her into her rose-coloured twilled silk gown. With an appreciative sigh, he stepped back. “And now we’d best hurry and be sure to arrive separately if we are not to be thoroughly chastised by the terrifying dowagers.” With a finger beneath her chin he tilted Fanny’s head up. “They’ve been waiting for us in the blue drawing room this half hour, completely unaware that we’ve both been under the same roof, and as it’s my Uncle Roderick marrying us I’d wager he’s already cock-eyed.”
With a final, proud and proprietary look, he tucked her hand through the crook of his arm and led her to the door. “I shall be paying scrupulous attention to ensure he doesn’t inadvertently marry you to Brimble or Mama’s pug.”
“Darling Fenton.” She felt overcome by the love and warmth in his smile. He’d shown her what it felt to be adored and appreciated and he’d more than atoned for his brief lack of faith. Bramley would spend the rest of his life paying for that—and the odious creature knew it.
Nevertheless, her tone was offhand as she murmured, “Just so long as they can kiss like you, my dearest, I’ll be content.”