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erienced before, she sank down and sheathed his solid erection. It took a few seconds to find a rhythm, but once she did, she slid up and down his delicious length, taking him deep, deep into her body.

Hudson’s head fell back against the squab as his breathing grew ragged.

She ran her hands over his chest, grabbed his waistcoat in her fists like reins and rode hard.

“Goddamn, you’re so wet, so tight.” He raised his head. “Wait. Come up on your knees.”

She sucked in a breath and did as he asked.

Hudson took hold of his manhood and blindly rubbed the slick head back and forth over her sex. Claudia ground against him as the ache inside grew. Soon she was close to the glittering finale, the moment when her chaotic world shattered into one of sheer bliss.

“I need to be inside you when you come,” he groaned.

“Then do it now.”

He slid into her body, and she could not help but cry out with pleasure. “Hudson.”

His expert fingers continued to rub her as she came down on him harder, so hard her buttocks slapped against his thighs. She came apart panting his name, shuddering in his lap.

He tried to pull out of her body, but she couldn’t stop loving him, couldn’t stop grinding against him in a frantic rhythm.

“Claudia, stop.” Panic infused his tone. “I need to withdraw else there will be a child.”

For one foolish second, she wanted him to pump his seed inside her, wanted her stomach to swell and grow. Quickly dismissing the thought as folly, she came up on her knees again and tumbled into the seat beside him.

She watched him take hold of his glistening erection, watched him hiss a sharp breath as he pumped hard, slowing just as he spurted into his hand.

Hudson’s head fell back, and he closed his eyes. Their rapid pants filled the air in the confined space. The scent of their lovemaking teased her nostrils. It took a minute for her to drag her head out of the clouds.

“My handkerchief,” he gasped. “It’s in my pocket.”

Claudia fumbled in his pocket and removed the silk square. “Allow me,” she said, fascinated by the sheer size and strength of his manhood. She refused to give him the handkerchief and set about wiping up the evidence of their passionate encounter.

Hudson watched her intently before suddenly saying, “I don’t want this to end.”

The comment caught her unawares. “I don’t want it to end, either.” Love filled her heart. She considered telling him but what if it was sated desire talking? What if he meant nothing more than to continue their illicit affair?

Silence ensued while they set about righting their clothes. The carriage jerked to a halt as he fastened the buttons on his breeches.

“Let’s see what Dr Hewlett has to say.” Hudson folded his handkerchief and pushed it into the inside pocket of his coat. “We can talk later, once we’re alone.”

Claudia nodded, though fear crawled through her body like strangling ivy.

What if they wanted different things?

What if they felt different things?

They had no need to knock on the front door of number twenty Berwick Street. Simmonds was waiting ready to prise it gently from the jamb.

“So your mistress hasn’t thrown the doctor out?” Hudson whispered to the weary-looking butler.

“No, sir. The doctor is still upstairs.”

Hester Lockhart was one of those women who liked to voice her opinion but lacked the courage of her convictions.

“Then we won’t be long,” Hudson said, tapping the butler on the arm. “I’m sure you’re keen to retire.”

They crept upstairs, found the doctor sitting in a chair next to the bed. Light from a single candle penetrated the darkness. The room smelt of herbs yet the stench of sickness still hung in the air. Alfred Lockhart looked just as weak and pale. The bottles had disappeared from the side table, replaced with a pot of tea.


Tags: Adele Clee Avenging Lords Historical