Clara trembled anew. How could she already be so needy? She had never experienced desire like this before, but she was moments away from another release. Instead of fighting her desire, Clara closed her eyes and clung to whatever part of Reggie she could reach. He slowed his thrusts and pressed harder to her nub. Clara moaned and writhed against his fingers, straining toward the pleasure he gave so effortlessly.
His mouth pressed against her hot skin. “Clara love, are you ready? Come for me. Now.”
Clara clenched tight about his length and his fingers rubbed harder. Her body exploded around her and she fell into a fast sea of nothingness.
Chapter Five
Reggie pulled the blankets tight about Clara’s body, listening to her light snore and the frantic beating of his own heart. He’d done it. He’d made her his very own, and all in one afternoon. He couldn’t believe his good fortune, or his luck.
Reggie slipped his hand under the sheet and touched her belly. The little miracle beneath her skin pushed against his palm and made him smile. In just a few months time he could hold his child in his arms. It didn’t matter to him who’d fathered Clara’s babe. But he would love them and protect them and their beautiful mother for all the days of his life.
Clara stirred restlessly. “Do you two think you could wait to play until after the birth? I was trying to rest.”
Reggie smiled and touched her cheek. “Forgive us. We were just getting better acquainted. I cannot wait until the child comes.”
She opened one eye and regarded him solemnly. “You are so very different than I expected. Blackstone never wanted a child. He thought a pregnancy would interfere with his pleasures.”
Reggie sighed. “What a fool he was.”
Clara glanced down, a nervous smile hovering on her lips. “I never told him, you know, about the child. It seemed I didn’t have to. When I suspected I was increasing he’d already left my bed. Of course, he had other women to entertain that I didn’t know about then.”
Reggie slipped his knuckle under her chin and raised her gaze back to his. “You will never get me out of your bed, or you out of mine for that matter. I want to share every single moment of our life together. Including the difficult parts. I want to attend the birth.”
Clara’s eyes widened. “Reggie. You can’t. What will people say?”
“I don’t care. They’ve flapped their gums enough over our lives anyway. Why can’t the two of us create a little scandal all our own?”
Clara rose to her elbow. “Reggie. The process of birthing a child is best left to women. I would not like you to become distressed.”
“Distressed or not, that child will be mine once the words are spoken of course. I’ll not part with you in your time of need. Haven’t I already stood beside you through everything else?”
Clara blinked back tears. “You have. You’ve been the truest of friends.”
“Then let us end our mourning by being decidedly wicked. Do you perhaps think I could indulge you once more?” He slipped his hand between her legs and squeezed. He drew her close to kiss. Their lips brushed.
Clara drew back, her eyes full of mischief. “Oh, Reggie. We are the wickedest of mourners.”
“That we are.” The click of the lock had Reggie curling his arm about Clara’s shoulders. He leaned close to her ear. “Brace yourself for the beginning of our own scandal, darling, we are found out. Mrs. Blackstone stands aghast at my door and she looks shocked enough to faint. Could we be that lucky?”
Clara met his gaze, her lips pressed tight over a smile. “She swore to disown me should I ever fall prey to your charms. And it seems very obvious that I have. We must be the luckiest couple in the world, my darling.”
About the Author
Heather Boyd is the author of erotic romance with an historical bent. A fan of regency England settings, she writes m/f and m/m stories that push the boundaries of propriety and even break the laws of that time. Brimming with new ideas, she frequently wishes she could type as fast as she can conjure up new storylines. She lives with her testosterone-fuelled family north of Sydney, Australia.
Heather loves to hear from readers. You can visit her on the web at www.heather-boyd.com or send her an email at [email protected]
Chills
Book 1 of the Distinguished Rogues series
Chapter One
London
Spring, 1813
Constance Grange tucked a stray, dark curl behind her ear and stared at the numbers on the page until they blurred into meaningless shapes. “This simply must be some sort of terrible mistake?”