Something protective and fierce flashed deep in his eyes. “Good. It will only get better from now on, I promise.”
I believe you, she thought, gazing up into the dark beauty of his face.
The hushed quiet was broken by the crackle of the fire and the erratic thud of her own heartbeat as Rayne carefully began to move inside her. Holding her captive with the intensity of his blue gaze, he slowly withdrew, only to thrust again even more slowly … rising and sinking into her heated wetness with a mesmerizing rhythm, guiding her response with his hand on her hip.
Madeline felt a sob rise up in her throat as too many emotions welled inside her. She had never felt this treasured, this desired. She had never yearned this much. Rayne made her want him more than she wanted to breathe.
This sort of wanting shouldn’t be possible, this burning need to be one with him.
And then the firelight blurred as she trembled uncontrollably. She was only aware of Rayne, of his heat, of his masculine scent, of the way he filled her aching emptiness.
When the cresting wave of passion broke over her, her hips rocked violently in cadence with her cries of ecstasy.
Rayne felt the same violent explosion of pleasure moments later. His body clenched, then shuddered as he came, intense tremors of sensation flooding every part of him.
When finally he quieted, Madeline was still pulsating around him, her breasts rising and falling unevenly with her ragged breaths. Struggling harshly for air himself, Rayne lowered himself weakly to his elbows, sheltering her in a possessive embrace while burying his face in the fragrant silk of her hair.
It was several long moments more before he could find the energy to raise his head—and he suspected Madeline felt a similar blissful lethargy. When he pressed a tender kiss to her damp forehead, she slowly opened her eyes.
Her expression held warmth now, not wariness, and the soft, sated look in her luminous eyes was enchanting.
“I must say,” she whispered hoarsely, “that you kept your promise. No wonder you are so fond of lovemaking.”
Delight shivered through him, part laughter, part desire. “I was happy to oblige, love.”
Carefully withdrawing from the sweet haven of her body, Rayne eased onto his side, then rolled onto his back, drawing Madeline against him so that her head rested on his shoulder.
Her feminine curves aligned perfectly with his harder ones, he noted, breathing her in. When she gave a contented sigh, Rayne acknowledged his own momentary contentment. How right it felt to hold her like this.
Admittedly, he ought to be worried. He had never savored a lover’s pleasure so much before. And of all the women he’d bedded, none of them had moved him as much as Madeline had tonight.
A dangerous sentiment, Rayne thought, as his fingers absently stroked the slender stem of her neck beneath her hair.
It wasn’t surprising that he felt a fierce protectiveness for Madeline. Or that he’d wanted to banish her insecurities about her desirability. Or that he was keenly, painfully aroused by her potent sensuality. He had been right about her passionate nature. Her alluring, utterly feminine body was pure temptation, a man’s private fantasy. The desire to make love to her again was still stinging him.
Shifting his head slightly, Rayne gazed down at her face. By any conventional standards, Madeline was not beautiful or even particularly pretty. But the golden firelight made her so just now. In the rosy aftermath of passion, she looked well and thoroughly bedded … her skin flushed and soft, her smooth hair gleaming in the light cast by the dancing flames.
Something primal tugged again deep in the pit of his belly—and that was before her eyelids fluttered open and she met his gaze, her big, gray eyes drowsy and replete.
Indeed, she was glowing.
Rayne frowned at the realization, remembering Madeline’s stated desire to find love in marriage. If he wasn’t careful, she might grow too enamored of him. He didn’t want to raise her expectations or allow her to think he would ever feel anything deeper for her than friendly affection.
He had not given anyone access to his heart for a very long time, and he would never do so again.
At the shy, tender smile Madeline gave him, however, Rayne felt the rare clutch of his heart. His unconscious response should be a warning to him, he reminded himself. It was a mistake to encourage any more intimacy between them. Even now he might already have let it grow too strong.
He couldn’t deny, either, that during the enchanting moments when he’d claimed Madeline as his wife, long-dormant emotions and desires had swelled and surged to life within him. Joining with her tonight in their marriage bed was like filling a space in him that had been empty for too long.
Yet he intended to rely on his new professional challenges to fill the void in his life. He’d already begun calculating his first steps and written
to Will Stokes to gain his collaboration. In fact, he planned to meet with his former fellow spy early tomorrow morning. If anyone could help him infiltrate a ring bent on assassinating the Regent, it was Will, Rayne reflected.
He wouldn’t share the details of his plans with Madeline, though, other than to tell her he had business that needed his attention. Knowing her, she would ask to help him, and he didn’t want her interfering, or worse, coming to harm.
Rayne quelled a faint smile at the thought. No, Madeline was not the dutiful wife he had once sought. Moreover, he had a strong suspicion that she would prove much more than he’d bargained for.
Still, he was glad to have chosen her. As for the future of their marriage, he would promise her fidelity, certainly. Since meeting her, he hadn’t wanted any other woman and doubted he would anytime soon. But he intended for them to have separate bedchambers and separate beds. And except for conjugal visits, he meant to keep his hands off his new wife. He was determined to curb his lust for her, for he wanted no repeat of his disastrous love affair with Camille Juzet.