mouth was by her ear again, his breath hot. Her body trembled, bucking against his weight. ‘What do you want, Maddy, love? Tell me.’ And he pressed a little deeper so that she cried out, aching for more.
‘Touch me!’
‘Where, little one? Here?’ He nipped at her throat, at the scrambling pulse beneath her ear.
‘Inside me,’ she got out, her voice breaking.
His strength held her effortlessly, one hand playing at her breast, the other arm hooked under her belly, his fingers teasing the sensitive nub just above where his shaft promised heaven.
‘How do you want me inside you, Maddy?’ he whispered. His fingers slid closer to the empty ache he was teasing. ‘Like this again?’
‘Your—’ Her voice broke as he rocked, stroked the taut nubbin so that fire leaped in every vein, need coiling in her belly. ‘Whatever you call your pizzle,’ she finished.
The word, when he told her, made her shiver. It sounded so hard, uncompromising.
‘Say it, Maddy,’ he murmured. ‘Say it.’
And she did.
‘I want you—all of you,’ she whispered then. ‘Inside me.’
‘I’m all yours, sweetheart,’ he whispered. ‘Only yours. Always.’
He gave himself to her, one inexorable inch at a time. Slowly. His voice shook, whether reminding himself or reassuring her, she didn’t know. Her body burned as he took all of her, body, heart and soul, with exquisite care until at last he impaled her fully and she sobbed in pleasure.
‘You like this?’ he asked, moving gently.
She couldn’t speak, only moan at the shift of his body inside her, above her, surrounding her.
‘And this?’ he murmured, changing the angle so that she gasped. ‘Or this?’
And her body exploded on a shocked cry as he found that secret place within where delight bordered on pain.
His growl of satisfaction told her he knew. And then there was nothing else, nothing beyond his body taking hers, the wet slide of him inside her and the wicked counterpoint of his fingers. Nothing but the flames building, building inside her until she hung, blind with need, on the edge of that fiery abyss. He held her there, sobbing, shaking, every stroke of his body into hers both a searing delight and an agony of delay.
He pulled back, waited, and she cried out in protest as her body wept for release. He surged back into her and she screamed as she fell, broke and shattered around him.
* * *
Ash felt his control snap at her utter surrender. Again and again he took her, without compromise, without restraint, driving deep, deeper into the hot, tight sheath convulsing about him. Consummation, white-hot and relentless, crashed over and through him. He drove in one last time, shuddering with release as he poured himself deep inside her. He hung over her for a moment, dazed, blind with pleasure, and then collapsed onto her soft, trembling body with a groan. Nothing had ever been so good. He was surprised it hadn’t killed him.
Drawing on the last of his strength, somehow he got them both onto the bed properly and under the bedclothes. Maddy murmured in sleepy contentment as he settled her into his arms, precisely where she belonged. With a sigh she nestled closer, and one small hand slid over his heart. Steel bands clamped around his chest.
He had no idea if there was a bedchamber prepared elsewhere for him and he didn’t care. He was exactly where he wanted to be. Gently he covered the hand over his heart with his own and held it there, holding off sleep. It beckoned, but the delight of having her utterly sated in his arms, completely and irrevocably his, was shockingly precious.
A little while later he felt her stir in his arms.
‘Ash?’
‘Maddy, love?’
She snuggled closer and his arms tightened as he looked down at her. Firelight gilded her face, even in the shadows of the bed, and his heart quaked as she smiled sleepily up at him. There was nothing even remotely convenient about what he felt.
‘That was definitely improperly, wasn’t it?’
He brushed his lips against her temple, breathed the fragrance of warm, soft, utterly pleasured woman. His woman. ‘Definitely.’
She sighed. ‘Apparently I like improper.’
He snorted out a laugh. ‘Just as well, under the circumstances. Go to sleep. We can be improper again later.’
Christmas Day was a blur of light and laughter to Ash. He took Maddy to church in the morning, along with most of the household. The church was full and bells pealed wildly afterwards as they walked out into the biting wind, surrounded by the warmth of good wishes and blessings.
Mr and Mrs Parmenter insisted on offering brandy at the vicarage. Ash wanted nothing more than to get Maddy back to Haydon. Back home. Their home. But she accepted, saying, ‘It will give Bets and the rest a chance to get home and put dinner together.’
So he acquiesced and, when Parmenter took him aside, put away his anger at the man’s hesitance over marrying them yesterday. This was not a day for anger or grievances.
Parmenter said quietly, ‘I was wrong yesterday, Lord Ashton. Very wrong. My good wife took me severely to task. When I thought it through afterwards, your trust in Madeleine shamed me. Our Lord warned us against throwing the first stone. May I ask your forgiveness?’
Ash let out a breath. ‘Yes. A confession, sir. I was unsure, too. Oh, not of her,’ he went on, seeing Parmenter’s surprise. ‘But I did wonder if Montfort—’ He broke off, clenching his fists.
‘Quite,’ said Parmenter, his face grim. ‘A word for your ear. Be on your guard. My wife is not above listening to the chatter of our housemaids.’ He cleared his throat. ‘In short, they are all worried that Montfort may still do something foolish.’ His hand gripped Ash’s sleeve. ‘It pains me to gossip, but—’
Ash nodded. ‘Thank you, sir. I’ll guard her.’
Parmenter frowned. ‘Guard yourself, too. You made a fool of him yesterday.’ He hesitated. ‘I have known Montfort all his life. I dislike speaking ill of one of my flock, but he is not an honourable man.’ He flushed. ‘Another stone, but there I’ll take my chances.’
* * *
Maddy had been sure something was bothering Ash as they drove home from church. But when she’d asked he’d denied it. Now, watching him set up a bowl of raisins for a game of Snapdragons with several of the children at one end of the great refectory table after Christmas dinner, she wondered if she had imagined that odd abstraction.
She had not expected marriage to be like this at all. There was nothing convenient about this ache in her heart. Foolishness. How could she have fallen in love with a man she hadn’t seen for
