Historical Romance – The Best Of The Year. Кэрол Мортимер

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merely enhanced the intolerable delight he was inflicting upon her, carrying her out of her body into the soaring, weightless heights of ecstasy.

      When at last he ceased the relentless pleasuring she reached out for him, driving her fingers through his hair, tugging at the shoulders of his coat and pulling him up so she could kiss him. Excitement welled even further when she tasted herself on his lips. With a groan he held himself away from her and slid on to the bench.

      ‘By God I cannot hold out much longer.’ He quickly unfastened his breeches, pulling her on to his lap. ‘Time for you to come to me.’

      Eagerly she straddled him. He held her hips firmly and pushed himself into her slick heat. Dominique gasped, putting her hands on his shoulders to steady herself as he thrust again, and this time she was prepared. She pressed down on him, matching his movements, elated by his groans of pleasure as she rode him, exulting in the feel of his hard length inside her. She was almost out of control with the delicious torment, bucking and shuddering, but he held on to her, driving ever deeper into her until the final juddering thrust. She barely heard his shout of triumph for her own head was thrown back, her eyes closed as she tensed and shuddered and her consciousness exploded into a million stars.

      * * *

      Dominique collapsed against him and he held her close, his breathing ragged. Her whole body was glowing, like the hot coals of a fire after the first, hectic blaze has died down.

      ‘Oh, heavens,’ she murmured at last, her head on his chest where she could feel the hammering of his heart against her cheek. ‘Have I behaved very wantonly? I do beg your pardon.’

      His arms tightened.

      ‘You have been quite delightful this evening, if a little surprising.’

      Being in his arms was blissful, but she needed to explain so she pushed herself away into the corner.

      ‘I w-wanted you to notice me. I have tried so hard to be a good wife to you, but you never come to my bed any more. And I—I miss you.’

      Gideon sat up and straightened his clothes.

      ‘I have kept my distance because I do not want to harm you, Dominique,’ he said quietly. ‘I cannot forget what my mother went through.’

      ‘Your mama had too many children too quickly.’ She clasped her hands together. She had overcome her embarrassment to talk to the kindly doctor about it, now she must talk to her husband. ‘I am very healthy, Gideon, Dr Bolton says so, and he also says we need not—need not refrain.’ She added, her voice little more than a whisper, ‘Unless you do not want me.’

      With a shaky laugh he reached for her.

      ‘After what we have just done you will know that is not the case.’ He tilted up her chin and kissed her. ‘I shall share your bed tonight, Dominique, and every night, if you will allow. And with a little care we can avoid making you with child again too often.’ The coach slowed and turned. Gideon lifted his head. ‘We are home, my dear.’ He replaced her cloak on her shoulders and as the carriage came to a halt he jumped down on to the drive, turning back to hold out his hand to her. ‘Shall we go in?’

      ‘I am not sure I can walk,’ she confessed as he helped her out of the carriage.

      ‘Then I shall carry you, as I should have done when you first came here.’ With that he swept her up into his arms, explaining to the astonished Thomas that Mrs Albury was feeling a little faint.

      Dominique slipped her arms about his neck and buried her face in his shoulder as he carried her up the stairs, knowing that if the butler saw the glow on her cheeks it would give the lie to Gideon’s words. Somehow he managed to open the door to her bedchamber and dismissed her startled maid.

      ‘There. That will set the household ringing with conjecture! Now, can you stand? I want to look at you.’

      He set her on her feet and pushed the cloak from her shoulders before running his hands down her arms and catching her hands. In the glow of candlelight the ruby gown was almost as dark as her glorious hair. A few glossy curls had escaped and now lay in wayward abandon against the creamy skin of her breasts. They were rising and falling rapidly and the fire in his loins began to burn again. He wanted to tell her how beautiful she was, how much he loved her, but when he looked into her eyes and saw the heat of desire in their emerald depths he lost the ability to speak. Silently he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

      Slowly he unlaced her bodice and with a soft sigh the ruby satin fell in a dark pool at her feet. She stood before him in her shift, a gossamer-thin layer that hid nothing, only enhanced the lines of her body and the beautifully rounded breasts, their pink roseate tips delectably visible. He reached out to take the pins from her hair, while she began to undress him.

      They did not pause until every last stitch had been shed. They were standing before the fire and he held her away from him, drinking in the perfection of her body, golden in the firelight. She dropped her head, allowing the dark waterfall of her hair to shimmer over her body. Gently he pushed the dusky locks back over her shoulders, then put his fingers under her chin and tilted her face up to look at him.

      ‘My wife,’ he murmured and, unable to resist any longer, he swept her up and carried her to the bed.

      * * *

      When Dominique awoke she was alone. Sunlight filled the room and she stretched luxuriously, feeling the cool sheets against her skin. She had a new awareness of her body and she smiled, thinking it unsurprising, since Gideon had kissed every last inch of it at least twice during the night. When he had first taken her to the bed they had made love slowly and languorously, taking time to explore each other until desire swept them up and carried them to the final consummation. She had fallen asleep in his arms, only to wake at some point in the darkest hours to find they were making love again.

      Dominique shivered a little at the delicious memory. She was thinking that she should get up and find her nightgown when the door opened and Gideon came in. He was fully dressed and, feeling suddenly shy, she pulled the blankets up to her chin.

      ‘Good morning, wife!’ He sat on the bed, smiling as he wrested the offending bedclothes from her hands to reveal her breasts. He lowered his head and kissed one rosy nub and then the other, sending little shock waves of excitement trembling through her. Reluctantly she pushed him away.

      ‘What is this, tired of me already?’ The warm glint in his eyes robbed his words of offence and she smiled back.

      ‘Never,’ she said, shyly reaching up to touch his face. ‘It is just that your sister is coming to take me shopping this morning.’

      ‘Ah, she will want to know what happened after we quit Grosvenor Square.’ He laughed, catching her hand and pressing a kiss into the palm before sliding off the bed. ‘Very well, I shall leave you to dress. What time is she coming? Will you break your fast with me before you go?’

      ‘She promised to be here by ten o’clock so, yes, we can eat together first, if I hurry.’

      ‘No need,’ he said, walking to the door. ‘Gwen was never one for timekeeping. Don’t expect to see her until at least eleven!’

      * * *

      But in this instance Gideon was proved wrong, for the clock in the hall was chiming ten when Gwen swept into the breakfast room, the skirts of her bronze-velvet walking dress billowing around

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