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He couldn’t help settling deeper into her body. The effort of holding back became agonizing. "But you…"

Eyes bright with tears bored into his, as though she struggled to drill all the way to his soul. If she did manage to catch a glimpse of that unimpressive entity, she’d find her own reflection looking back at her. "Please, Brock. Please."

Knowing it was wrong, knowing he might cause her untold damage – Cecil wouldn’t take kindly to a cuckoo in his nest – Brock couldn’t resist her pleading. Nor could he resist the prospect of giving himself to her in the most profound way he knew.

After a brief, hard kiss, he began to move once more. It wasn’t long before his crisis built, flooding his head with dark heat. The rush started at the soles of his feet and flowed up his legs and focused on his aching balls.

Brock lifted his head from where he’d buried it in her shoulder. He needed to see Selina’s face when he gave himself into her keeping as he never had before.

She looked strained and on edge. Her eyes were heavy with the rise of her own climax, and her lips were satiny and full, parted to allow him a glimpse of her small white teeth.

He shifted again and watched her expression change to triumph as she crossed the barrier into feminine ecstasy. Then thought deserted him entirely. His muscles contracted in a wild spasm, and his seed spurted into her womb.

She cried out and dug her fingernails into his shoulders. The sting became yet another part of the incandescence. He moved over her, until he’d given her every ounce of the man he was.

It had been a week of unsurpassed pleasure. But nothing had prepared him for this blazing union when Selina became his blood and his bone and his flesh. She might leave him in the morning, but somewhere in eternity, they were united forever.

As he slumped over her in a haze of satiation he’d never felt before, she wrapped her arms around him. "Thank you, Brock," she said in a choked voice.

Chapter 10

Selina stirred from a restless doze with a premonition of looming disaster. She was sprawled across Brock, one arm crooked on his chest and her leg flung over his. It was as if even lost in oblivion, she couldn’t bear the idea of letting him go.

"Oh, no," she gasped.

With a gentle hand, Brock smoothed the tangled hair away from her face. "What’s wrong?"

She jerked away to sit up and stare down at him in horror. "I went to sleep."

The fire had burned low and the candles guttered, but there was enough light for her to see his tender smile. "You were tired."

She’d been silly with exhaustion. After that unprecedented moment when he’d filled her with his seed and she felt like the world exploded in a conflagration of light, they’d lain together in perfect communion, only talking now and again. Accepting his essence into her body had been a transcendent experience, one she’d treasure as long as she lived.

After a while, he’d begun to touch her, giving her another climax with his hand. She’d used her mouth on him again. That time, he lost himself between her breasts. Then, plague take her, she’d fallen asleep.

"But I don’t want to waste a moment." A horrid fear twisted her stomach. "Is it time for us to go?"

With a late sunrise and the curtains drawn, it was impossible to know how late it was. If she frittered away her last minutes at this house in sleep, she’d never forgive herself.

Rolling over, he lifted his pocket watch from the bedside table. He clicked it open and angled it toward the fire so he could see the dial. "No, it’s not five yet."

Two hours until they were due to leave, then. It wasn’t much of a reprieve. Selina had to reach London tonight, so they needed to be on the road before dawn. She couldn’t bring herself to contemplate the thought.

With a sleepy sigh, Brock set his watch back on the table and turned to curve his hand behind her neck. "Come here."

The low purr and the sensual gleam in his eyes told her he had plans for what time remained to them. She had no objection. How could she refuse one last chance to experience that radiant closeness?

The taste of his lips was delicious. The kiss soon turned carnal, and Brock crushed her into the sheets. She reached down to encircle his erection, and a growl of pleasure escaped her. "I don’t know how you do it. We’ve been going all night."

He caught her hand and drew it to his lips. "You’re all the incentive I need, my bonny."

She wriggled until she cradled him between her thighs. "Then don’t wait. I need to fuck."

His laugh was wry. "You’d better forget I taught you such dirty words."

As she bent her knees on either side of his narrow hips, she regarded him without smiling. "I never want to forget a single second of what we’ve done together."

His amusement faded, and she saw that he was doing his best to place a brave face on their forthcoming separation. The prospect of imminent parting left him devastated,


Tags: Anna Campbell The Lairds Most Likely Historical