House of Trent 01.5 - His for Christmas by Jennifer Haymore Page B

his concentration into not coming inside her. Her orgasm ran through her in powerful shudders, her body undulating beneath him, her channel rippling over his cock. He gripped her hips and gritted his teeth, seeing her through it.
    It went on and on, her body spasming in pleasure as she cried out her release. She came down slowly, and only when she had sunk back down onto the bed and was quivering beneath him did he know he could move again.
    Now.
    He moved inside her frantically, each ripple of her pleasure sending shards of delight through his own body. Moments later, with a harsh groan, he pulled out. He came against the softness of her bottom, his body heaving with the force of it. His orgasm was as long and as powerful as hers. When it was over, he leaned over her and rested his palms heavily against the bed. Languidly, he kissed the back of her neck again, then forced himself up.
    She lay limply as he fixed his trousers then took a towel and cleaned her off. He settled her skirts back over her bottom and smoothed them out.
    “Amelia?”
    “Hmmm?” She still hadn’t moved.
    “Are you ready?”
    She turned her head to face him, resting her cheek on the bed. Her eyes shone with pleasure and her lips curved into a smile. “I don’t think I can move. I think I need to stay flopped over the end of the bed until I regain my strength. Tomorrow, perhaps.”
    “I could carry you.”
    She gave a soft laugh. “Can you imagine if the Duke of Dunsberg saw you carrying me to the sleigh? The gossip would follow us to our graves.” With a pained sigh, she heaved herself up. She stood, swaying at bit, her hands patting her hair. “I feel like I’ve just been tumbled.”
    He smirked. “You have.”
    Her blue eyes focused seriously on him. “Will everyone see? How will I hide it?”
    He shook his head, still smiling. “You look beautiful. That’s all they’ll see, Amelia. They won’t know what just happened.”
    “Are you sure?”
    “Positive.” Turning to the door, he took a deep breath. Here in this room, things had been simple. She’d been his; he’d been hers. The world outside was much more complicated.
    He opened the door and looked both ways down the corridor before gesturing her out. She stepped out and led the way to the sleigh, where the ostlers scowled at them, irritated at being left out in the cold with the horses for so long.
    The sleigh contained only two seats, but Evan was fine with that, because he’d wanted his driver to stay behind anyhow, so that he could follow with the carriage as soon as the weather improved. That meant that Amelia’s coachman would need to stay behind as well, but there was no avoiding that.
    “My family lives but a mile from here,” John had told Amelia when she’d relayed the news to him. “I can walk home and spend Christmas with them, if it pleases you, milady.”
    Amelia had been pleased, and had encouraged him to be safe and to have a wonderful Christmas with his family.
    So it had worked out well for everyone, it seemed.
    Bundled up in a massive amount of furs with a foot warmer heated with coal at their feet, they rode out of the village of Postcombe just after nine o’clock in the morning. The sky was still gray, though it hadn’t started to snow again, but the world was a glorious, pristine white.
    Amelia snuggled up against him, warm and soft as he took up the reins. Not for the first time, he wondered how it would feel to have her pressed up against him like this every day of his life.
    He’d love it. And he wanted it. He doubted he’d ever have enough of Lady Amelia’s sweetness.
    As they left Postcombe behind, Amelia breathed out in awe, “Oh, Evan, isn’t it beautiful?”
    It was stark, quiet, clean. No footprints or carriage ruts marred the rolling expanses of snow. Bare of their leaves, the trees stood like silent sentinels, drops of melting snow glimmering on their branches.
    Christmas. A time for family, and for new beginnings. As the miles