lazy smile. “I like how it feels against me. It’s rough…”
“I see.” His grin turned sly. “Do you like it rough, Lady Amelia?”
He watched the flush rush over her skin. She pressed her lips together and didn’t respond, but her eyes glowed, and he knew he was right.
Just like that, he was hard again.
* * *
“Amelia, love. Wake up.”
Amelia peeled her unwilling eyelids open forcefully, then she smiled as she saw Evan gazing down at her, a hint of concern in his dark eyes.
“Are you all right?”
“Mmm,” she murmured. She yawned, then moved her body experimentally. She was slightly sore in her muscles and her core, but it was a pleasant kind of soreness, wrought by pleasure. “I am all right. In fact, I feel wonderful. I haven’t had such a good night’s sleep in…years, it feels like.”
Amelia had lost track of the number of times they’d made love. She couldn’t get enough of Evan, of his touch, his kiss, his body. Enough of the feeling he gave her when he was braced over her and thrusting powerfully inside her. And the wicked pleasure it gave her when he turned her over and entered her from behind, touching parts inside her that made her whimper and squirm. Or when he lay on his back and settled her over him, whispering roughly, “Ride me, Amelia.”
Evan’s concern gave way to a smile. Stretching, Amelia sat up in bed and glanced out the window above the bed. She could see nothing but dreary gray.
“What time is it?”
“A little after seven.”
“Has the weather improved?”
“It has. It’s stopped snowing, although there is a considerable amount of snow on the ground.”
“Too much for us to travel?”
“In a carriage—yes. But”—his eyes twinkled—“I’ve borrowed a sleigh.”
“A sleigh!” She clapped her hands together at her chest. “How wonderful!”
He leaned down and cupped her head in his hands. Tenderness suffused his expression as he said, “Merry Christmas Eve, Amelia.”
She reached up to wrap her arms around him, and he kissed her gently, his lips warm and dry. The touch of his lips sent sizzles through her, deep into her womb, reawakening her body and reminding it of all the sensual pleasures he could give.
But he pulled away. “I brought you breakfast. We should leave as soon as you’re done. I want to get you home in time for dinner with your family.”
* * *
Evan leaned against the door, watching Amelia gather the few things she’d brought into the tiny room. She carefully folded the last item, the nightgown she’d worn only briefly last night, and placed it into the valise. She closed it with a snap, then turned to face him. She smiled. “There. I’m ready.”
He nodded, but he didn’t move.
Damn. He wanted to take her home, because that was what she wanted. Because she was worried about her family and because she wanted to be with them for Christmas.
But in this room, in this tiny space, she belonged to him. Once they left it, she would no longer be his. Out there, in the real world, she had her own life, a life which was quite separate from his own.
She gazed at him with those guileless blue eyes. She wore a high-waisted, long-sleeved white dress with dark gray ribbons trimming it, and a gauzy fichu tucked in to the neckline.
He wanted to take the dress off her. He wanted to expose all her creamy skin to his hungry gaze. He wanted to keep her naked, in this bed, for the rest of winter.
He took a shaky breath, the warring desires within him too powerful.
“Should we go?” she asked softly.
He shook his head. No, they shouldn’t go. They should stay…
But she needed to be with her family for Christmas.
He closed his eyes. Arousal thrummed in his blood. This could be the end of his time with Amelia. This erotic, intense, concentrated time in which they’d bared all to each other. Once they left, she might return to that cold, aloof, impenetrable woman he’d found on the snowy side of the road.
His last
“I see.” His grin turned sly. “Do you like it rough, Lady Amelia?”
He watched the flush rush over her skin. She pressed her lips together and didn’t respond, but her eyes glowed, and he knew he was right.
Just like that, he was hard again.
* * *
“Amelia, love. Wake up.”
Amelia peeled her unwilling eyelids open forcefully, then she smiled as she saw Evan gazing down at her, a hint of concern in his dark eyes.
“Are you all right?”
“Mmm,” she murmured. She yawned, then moved her body experimentally. She was slightly sore in her muscles and her core, but it was a pleasant kind of soreness, wrought by pleasure. “I am all right. In fact, I feel wonderful. I haven’t had such a good night’s sleep in…years, it feels like.”
Amelia had lost track of the number of times they’d made love. She couldn’t get enough of Evan, of his touch, his kiss, his body. Enough of the feeling he gave her when he was braced over her and thrusting powerfully inside her. And the wicked pleasure it gave her when he turned her over and entered her from behind, touching parts inside her that made her whimper and squirm. Or when he lay on his back and settled her over him, whispering roughly, “Ride me, Amelia.”
Evan’s concern gave way to a smile. Stretching, Amelia sat up in bed and glanced out the window above the bed. She could see nothing but dreary gray.
“What time is it?”
“A little after seven.”
“Has the weather improved?”
“It has. It’s stopped snowing, although there is a considerable amount of snow on the ground.”
“Too much for us to travel?”
“In a carriage—yes. But”—his eyes twinkled—“I’ve borrowed a sleigh.”
“A sleigh!” She clapped her hands together at her chest. “How wonderful!”
He leaned down and cupped her head in his hands. Tenderness suffused his expression as he said, “Merry Christmas Eve, Amelia.”
She reached up to wrap her arms around him, and he kissed her gently, his lips warm and dry. The touch of his lips sent sizzles through her, deep into her womb, reawakening her body and reminding it of all the sensual pleasures he could give.
But he pulled away. “I brought you breakfast. We should leave as soon as you’re done. I want to get you home in time for dinner with your family.”
* * *
Evan leaned against the door, watching Amelia gather the few things she’d brought into the tiny room. She carefully folded the last item, the nightgown she’d worn only briefly last night, and placed it into the valise. She closed it with a snap, then turned to face him. She smiled. “There. I’m ready.”
He nodded, but he didn’t move.
Damn. He wanted to take her home, because that was what she wanted. Because she was worried about her family and because she wanted to be with them for Christmas.
But in this room, in this tiny space, she belonged to him. Once they left it, she would no longer be his. Out there, in the real world, she had her own life, a life which was quite separate from his own.
She gazed at him with those guileless blue eyes. She wore a high-waisted, long-sleeved white dress with dark gray ribbons trimming it, and a gauzy fichu tucked in to the neckline.
He wanted to take the dress off her. He wanted to expose all her creamy skin to his hungry gaze. He wanted to keep her naked, in this bed, for the rest of winter.
He took a shaky breath, the warring desires within him too powerful.
“Should we go?” she asked softly.
He shook his head. No, they shouldn’t go. They should stay…
But she needed to be with her family for Christmas.
He closed his eyes. Arousal thrummed in his blood. This could be the end of his time with Amelia. This erotic, intense, concentrated time in which they’d bared all to each other. Once they left, she might return to that cold, aloof, impenetrable woman he’d found on the snowy side of the road.
His last
Similar Books
