“Why, are you struggling to get out?”
“We’re not getting out just yet.”
He grabbed the bucket and emptied the hot water into the bath tub. Cupping his hands, he trickled the water over her back. He found the cake of soap and washed her, massaging the muscles in a slow seductive rhythm until her shoulders relaxed.
“What would your maid think if she could see you now?” he drawled as he reached around and fondled her breasts.
Lillian arched her back, pressing her buttocks against his already engorged cock. “She would swoon on the … hmm … on the spot.”
He gripped her hip with his left hand while his right hand stroked a sweet rhythm between her thighs. “Tell me you want me.” Regardless how many times he’d taken his wife, after her harrowing experiences in the past he would always seek permission.
“I want you, Fabian.” Her breath came in ragged pants. Soon her climax would be upon her, and he wanted to be inside her when she came apart. “I want you now.”
Needing no further inducement, he entered her in one long fluid movement until buried to the hilt. Good God, she felt divine. In her quest for satisfaction, she rocked back and forth, slapping against him, hugging him tightly.
“Hurry, Fabian.” Her movements grew wild, urgent. Water splashed onto the floor.
This was different to the slow, tender lovemaking they’d shared hours earlier. This was about lust, about being free to express one’s passion without thought or censure.
“Come for me, love,” he breathed as he pounded hard and deep. Each thrust brought him closer to the blissful edge, too. “Let me hear you cry out. Let me see you soar on the dizzying heights of your release.”
She shuddered against him, her thighs shaking.
“Let me hear you, love,” he whispered. “Tell me how it feels.”
“Oh, Fabian. It feels so good.”
His groan of satisfaction reverberated in his chest as her words of praise drew his release from him. He stilled. Amid the intense burst of pleasure came a moment of pure clarity: a peace that he had never known, an overwhelming sense that everything in the world was right.
The distant rumble of thunder reached Fabian’s ears as he lay sprawled and exhausted on his back in bed. Lillian’s luscious leg was draped across his thigh as she drifted in and out of sleep. He waited for the moment of calm to best gauge the distance and ferocity of the storm — but it didn’t come.
Somewhere, doors slammed with hurricane force. Groans and curses rained down in torrents. The thunderous growls moved ever closer. Only a fool would think that the loud crack ripping through the air was lightning.
Bloody hell!
Vane had wasted no time chasing after his quarry. Nor had he knocked the door politely and asked to see the master.
Fabian tried to move without disturbing Lillian, but the commotion continued outside the bedchamber door.
“Is this his room?” Vane’s commanding voice was unmistakable.
“God’s teeth, you can’t go in there,” Mackenzie protested. “Let me wake them first—”
“Them! Move out of my way, Scot. I’ll not tell you again.”
Lillian stirred. She yawned and rubbed her eyes. With mussed hair and swollen lips, she looked as though she truly had been ravished by a pirate.
A thud preceded a splintering snap as the door burst open.
Lillian gasped in shock, but Fabian pressed his finger to her lips.
“I would resist tugging the curtains if I were you.” Fabian grabbed the edge of the sheet and pulled it up to cover Lillian’s modesty. Although he couldn’t see Vane, the tension in the air was like a lead weight pressing down on them. “Wait downstairs, and I’ll meet you there once I’m dressed.”
As soon as he heard the growl of disapproval from beyond the curtain, Fabian knew he’d been careless with his choice of words.
“Get out of there now, before I drag you out.” The material suddenly ballooned in the middle as Vane hit out in temper. “I swear I shall hang you from a gibbet and watch while the crows peck at your rotting flesh.”
“He’s got a pair of duelling pistols, my lord,” Mackenzie shouted. “Make no sudden movements.”