And he wouldn’t. Not for anything.
James bent down and slowly kissed her, taking his time, and rolled his hips slowly, patiently, until suddenly, she relaxed.
Her hesitation vanished as she gave way to pleasure. And at her surrender, he no longer held himself back.
James angled his body so that he could caress her slick pearl that brought her so much pleasure, and then he slipped his hands between them, stroking his thumb over her, in the rhythm she liked so well.
As he angled his cock to stroke the most intimate part of her, she let out another cry, his name on her lips.
That sound, that perfect sound, sent him over the edge.
Her core tightened around him, and all his carefully crafted control vanished.
James thrust deep into her core, then pulled her to him, and abandoning all thought, gave himself over to pleasure. And as he felt like he might shake apart with the power of it, he knew he was hers. As much as she belonged to him, he belonged to her.
For the first time in his entire life, he did not hold back, and the world spun out of his dominion and away from him.
He held on to her, lost in that perfection.
As the waves of bliss began to slow, he pulled her against him, cradling her against his hard body.
Tangled in each other’s arms, his heart began to slow as did his breaths.
He could not believe what had taken place, the pleasure, the intensity of it.
In all his life, nothing had felt so perfect, so right, as the sensation of her body curved to his.
But the power of his feelings taunted him.
He stared up at the ceiling, knowing that this perfection could not last, knowing that he had risked so much.
Knowing that the only person in the world who had ever made him feel so out of his discipline, and so tempted to give in, was the woman in his arms.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Of all the possible occurrences that could take place the morning after her midnight wedding to the Duke of Stone, the descent of her entire family and his upon their house had not seemed likely.
But, as she stood in the cavernous foyer, that was exactly what transpired.
At little more than first light, the butler had knocked, cleared his throat, and announced that a large party had come to call.
One she could not avoid.
Even now, her eyes widened at the veritable army of support as Alexander, Louise, and yes, even her youngest brother, Edward, paraded past her.
Each one gave her a bolstering nod or look. Edward had the temerity to wink and give a skip at her apparent triumph.
They marched into the salon without a word, apparently leaving all conversation to their elders.
And those elders entered in a pair—her own mother and the Dowager Duchess of Stone.
She stared at the two women, completely unsure what they were going to say. After all, she had clearly behaved in a scandalous manner to induce such a wedding. And she had trapped the dowager’s son in marriage. Even if it had not been her intent.
Voluminous silk skirts rustling, her mother approached with her arms extended. “My darling, are you well this morning?”
A rush of relief coursed through her. She should not have been surprised at her mother’s kindness, and yet she couldn’t quite shake the apprehension. “I am, Mama. Thank you.”
“Well, I am barely recovered,” she admitted, enveloping her in an embrace. She held firmly for several moments then leaned back. “I offer you congratulations. But, my dear, I was given this news at the break of day by your brother, and I was in need of smelling salts. I was afraid I was going to die of apoplexy, something I had never feared before.”