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She wished to touch them again. She needed all of him, just once. It was wrong, she knew it, but she didn’t care. Soon she’d take up residence at the orphanage, a spinster. One time in her life she wanted to know what it felt like to really be loved.

“Are you ready to retire?” he asked. “Tomorrow will be another busy day.”

She nodded, though she had every intention of readying for bed, she hoped not to be sleeping for some time yet. “That sounds lovely.” She cleared her throat. “Are you hopeful for tomorrow?”

He sat back in his chair with a smile. “I am, very hopeful. Not just for tomorrow but for all the days after too.”

She took a steadying breath. He was far more confident than she was. “What if I can’t discover any new information?”

But his smile remained. “We’ll find another way.”

We. Hope filled her chest. She loved that. More than she cared to admit.

Holding onto that, she stood. “I’ll help you as long as you need.”

“I know you will.” He stood too and moved around the table. “After tomorrow, we should discuss the future.”

She gave nod but her worries returned. She didn’t want to think about that now.

A maid waited in her room and she quickly undressed, pulling a night shift over her head. She put a simple braid in her hair and, by the candlelight, studied her reflection.

Would he reject her? Would this ruin everything? She let out a shaky breath. That gave her pause but closing her eyes, she decided she had to try. Matthew was too important and she wanted one night where he might belong to her.

She opened her door, wondering how to proceed but all thoughts left her head because he was standing just on the other side. “Oh,” she squeaked.

He gave her a rueful grin. “Forgive me. I found myself thinking of you and then—”

She didn’t want to talk anymore. And so, without another thought she stepped into his arms, her body melding to his as she tipped her head up. Standing on tiptoe, she pressed her lips to his.

He didn’t hesitate, he wrapped his arms around her and his mouth devoured hers. In a moment, she was lost. And found. This was where she belonged and her mind cleared of thought as her body came to life with his kiss.

He pulled her closer until her feet barely touched the ground and then they were moving. She didn’t know where and she didn’t care. As long as she was with him, it didn’t matter.

When her back touched the soft mattress, she sighed as his weight pressed her down into the bed. It felt so right. His tongue plundered her mouth as he caressed her waist, her hips, running his hands along her curves.

His touch sent little sparks of pleasure racing along her skin. Without meaning to, she moaned into his mouth.

“Ella,” he groaned against her lips. His hand trailed past her hip and slid down her leg until it reached the hem of her night rail.

Her fingers wound into the hair at the base of his neck, the feel of silky locks only making her more breathless.

When his fingers began trailing along the bare skin of her leg, slowly pushing up the fabric, the throb between her legs became a frenzy. “Matthew,” she panted. “Please.” She didn’t have any idea what she asked for, but only he could give it to her.

“Patience.” He grinned against her lips. “We’ve all night and I want this to be special.”

She wanted that too. She might need the memories to keep her warm for a lifetime. But as his fingers brushed the apex of her legs, a cry ripped from her mouth and her hips bucked against him. “Please,” she begged again.

In response he slid a finger inside her as the palm of his hand massaged her most intimate area.

She twisted and turned, pushing closer, searching for more. Threading her arms about his neck, she pulled at his hair in her frantic need. It only pleased him more as he chuckled. “I promise to give you everything you need, all that you desire.”

His words tipped her past the edge of reason. She convulsed around him and an explosion of color lit behind her eyes. “Matthew,” she gasped, clutching at his hair, his neck.

With his other hand, he lifted her and sent the fabric of her night rail sailing over her head. Then he lay her back down and stood, quickly removing his own clothes. Part of her realized she should be embarrassed. She was naked before him, completely exposed and his eyes were devouring her.

But she wasn’t. If anything, it excited her more to see his gaze upon her as his own skin was revealed.

He was a vision of masculinity. One she wanted to touch. Raising her arms, she silently begged him to come back to her. He quickly shed the last of his clothing and then he came down on her again but this time it was their skin that touched and it was so much more, better and deeper.


Tags: Tammy Andresen Wicked Lords of London Historical