“Let me go,” he growled, as her fingers tightened into talons.
She cried out as he hauled free and flung himself against the mattress. In a fierce, gasping release that left him trembling and exhausted, he pumped his seed onto the sheets
He collapsed beside her and closed his eyes, panting for breath. Struggling to return from the brink.
Diana lay silently, fighting to calm her racing pulses. Familiar bitterness flooded her even as she trembled with rapture.
Twice, she’d failed.
She forced her mind into creaking movement. Staring up at the room’s ceiling, she gathered her courage.
“My nurse was a Gypsy.” Her voice rasped with nerves and the aftereffects of pleasure. Oddly, talking about what they’d done was more difficult than participating.
She turned her head on the pillows and met Ashcroft’s unblinking jade gaze. He looked tired but relaxed, and lazy satisfaction glinted in his eyes.
When he didn’t offer encouragement, she forced herself to continue. “She had ways of preventing pregnancy.”
The ease leached from his expression, and he rose onto one elbow to study her. Part of her wished he’d kiss her. Another part knew if he did, her already failing ability to pursue this subject would evaporate completely.
And she had to pursue this subject.
If he didn’t mean to give her his seed, she couldn’t justify her presence in his bed. She’d have to end this affair. Against her will, her heart contracted at the idea of never seeing him again.
And the prospect of informing Lord Burnley of failure was terrifying.
Ashcroft frowned. “What’s wrong?”
She tried to make her expression neutral as she cast around desperately for a reason why she wanted him to climax in her body. How did a woman ask for such a thing?
She licked her lips. His gaze flickered to the betraying movement. “I feel…I feel cheated when you don’t…when you don’t finish…”
“I do finish.” His voice was even, as if they discussed the weather or a promenade in Hyde Park.
“Not inside me.” The words were a whisper.
“You’re blushing.”
“I’m sure I am,” she said with an abrupt return of spir
it. “I hate it when you withdraw. I feel you’re…you’re robbing me of the full experience.”
He tapped her cheekbone in gentle reproof. “I’m robbing you of the disaster of a bastard.”
“I told you…”
“Yes, you have some mysterious Gypsy potion.” She winced at his tone’s dryness. “You’ll forgive me if I express skepticism.”
Damn him for not believing her. Although she couldn’t blame him. “Even if you got me with child, I wouldn’t expect…”
Hauteur replaced the smile. He became the worldly, supercilious Lord Ashcroft. The tender, affectionate man might never have existed.
“I don’t bring unwanted children into the world.” His strong white teeth bit off each word.
She could almost have laughed. How wrong he was. This child was wanted beyond anything he imagined. “Surely with all your women…”
Releasing a frustrated breath, he rolled away and left the bed. She tried not to miss his nearness. How easy to let herself drift into a voluptuous dream. What was terrifying was she suspected it was too late to save herself. Because she wanted him lying next to her. She didn’t want him glowering at her from several feet away.
“Madam, it is extremely bad form to mention a man’s previous lovers.”