Page 45 of The Beast's Bet

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Her breath became ragged, her body ripe with pleasure, and before he could lose himself, he stroked the center of her folds with just enough pressure that she was again tossed into a sea of bliss.

Elizabeth’s body rippled around his cock and she shuddered, calling out his name.

With his mouth kissing hers, Tom swallowed up his name.

Then is his own body could wait no longer and pleasure crashed over him.

Wave after wave after wave of her release tightened around his cock and his own intense release threw him into impossible ecstasy.

He held her then as gasps of his own pleasure escaped his mouth.

And he whispered her name against her lips.

Tom stroked her hair back from her face, and he gazed down at her with wonder.

There was no going back now.

They had chosen each other. They had chosen this path, and he was not afraid. As he studied her face, he knew that she was not either, and that?

That made all of the difference.

Chapter 12

Achill stole through her as she realized how easily he had done it, how he had slipped through her window, walked across the chamber, sat in the chair, and watched her without her realizing it for several hours.

Had Tom done it before? Had he slipped into chambers as a child?

She wouldn’t have been surprised to find out that he was a great thief. That perhaps that was one way in which he had made his gold. She did not wish to ask him, though she wished to ask him a thousand other things.

She felt for certain though that Tom would not welcome the questions that were on the tip of her tongue at present, and so she held them at bay.

There would be walls between Tom and herself.

Oh, she could give herself in body. She could even try to give herself in spirit, but she knew that she might not be able to give herself in heart.

And Tom? Tom had a story so long, so rich, she did not think that he would ever begin it with her for fear he might never stop. For fear he might tell her something that she could not forgive.

She felt that in her bones.

She felt that in the way he crossed to her hesitantly. He was such a bold man, but in this moment, he seemed as if he was at a crossroads, deciding whether he could truly have her or not.

“It is too late, Tom,” she whispered into the darkness. “You either take me as your wife or publicly ruin me. If you wish to publicly ruin me, I’ll accept it, of course, but you must assist me in finding a life somewhere else… or take my hand now, be mine, and don’t look back.”

“Looking back,” Tom said firmly, his voice sliding over her like a caress, “is for fools, Elizabeth.”

With that, he lowered himself to the bed beside her, took her hand in his, and wound his fingers around it.

“As of this moment, you are mine and I am yours.”

“Without vows?” she asked.

“That was a vow,” he growled. “Who needs a vicar with a robe? Who needs a paper and a government?”

She sucked in a breath, her skin tingling at the fierceness of his declaration. “Oh, many people do, Tom.”

“You and I are not many people,” he countered, stroking his hand along her cheek. “This is all the vows we need. I shall marry you in a church. I shall sign the document. We shall speak the words before the vicar who holds the good book. But this? This is the universal vow, Elizabeth. I shall protect you with my body, with my breath, with my soul. And you are mine and I am yours.”

He tilted her face into his palm and for the first time in her whole life, she felt alive and at one with another. “And I, I am yours and you are mine. I shall protect you with my body, my breath, my soul.”


Tags: Eva Devon Historical