An Earl by Any Other Name(35)

Ivy cried out against his mouth at the sudden burst of pain, then sank her teeth into his shoulder as she waited, clinging to him.

"Shh … love, you are breaking my heart," Leo murmured, stroking her hip until her teeth let go of his skin and she looked at him. His eyes were bright, yet they shimmered with a myriad of emotions, making her heart skip wildly. Her body hurt, that tender place aching and stinging to the point where she was having trouble breathing.

"Is there more pain?" Her voice shook as hard as her body.

"No, not if you relax and focus on kissing me. You mustn't tense up."

She gave a little nod and curled her arms around his neck, pulling him down to her mouth. One brush of his lips, one sweet dance of tongues, and the tension poured out of her like a vast torrential rain. She gasped in shock and wonder at the sensation of being full. There was no part of her not filled by him, no space left empty in either her body or soul.

"How do you feel now?" he asked between drugging kisses and slow, gliding thrusts.

"Free." It was the first word that came to her mind. A delightful mix of giddiness and a sense of being weightless. "What about you?" she whispered. In that moment she was enveloped in a secret reverence, like slipping into the back of a cathedral during Mass. Shadows and rainbows of light spinning around her. Something beautiful and awe-inspiring was building between them and she dared not ruin it.

"You feel perfect. I can't even begin to put words to it. Only that it makes me weak, I suppose." His dark gold eyelashes dropped to half-mast as he studied her lips. "A man ought not to admit to that." A bashful redness tinged his cheeks.

"I make you weak?" She couldn't resist the giggle that slipped out.

"Ivy, you have no idea what you do to me." He slowly pulled his hips toward him and surged inside her again.

She threw her head back with a moan. After that, she wasn't able to form words, or even thoughts. There were only sensations. The pressure of lips to skin, the sting of teeth on flesh, the aching and the burning, mixing, melding, the wild need for something primal, something too old to be named. When it hit her, her lips parted on a silent scream, and she bucked beneath Leo. He cursed softly, then between panting breaths, he worked himself even deeper, harder. Three sharp thrusts, and he cried out and followed her into the vast bliss.

Exhaustion captured her like a gentle thief, and she burrowed deeper into Leo's body for warmth. Still fused together, he shifted so that they lay on their sides, legs and arms entwined, blankets tucked around them. They were as close as two people could get, and knowing that was a little frightening. Every part of her was laid bare to him and it would be so easy for him to destroy her, break her. The smooth smile on his lips was warm, comforting.

"Sleep, we've time." He tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear and traced the bridge of her nose.

Time. Did they really have time? Even if they did not, she would pretend they had years ahead of them.





Chapter 9



A massive weight vanished from Leo's shoulders. He could breathe again. Drawing in a lungful of air, he exhaled and feathered a kiss on Ivy's temple. She snuggled closer, still asleep. This was what his mother had told him to find. A woman who would undo him from the inside out, a woman he could not live without. He had made his choice before taking her to bed. He knew then he could not propose to Mildred. Still, after finally being with Ivy, it was a relief to know his decision had been right. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with someone he loved.


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Loved.

Did he love Ivy?

For someone who had lived the last several years denying himself joy, he felt like a starving man perusing the menu of the Savoy and unable to limit his choices. If he could have Ivy at his side, as his wife and equal, he could do anything. She made him weak and strong all at once. Only love could be that contrary to a sensible man's heart. A little grin twisted his lips. The only problem was convincing her that she should marry him. How was a man supposed to get a suffragette leg-shackled?

A draft settled in around him like a deep fog over his skin, and he glanced at the fireplace. The logs were nearly burned out. If he didn't get out of bed and get some fresh ones, the fire would die. With infinite care, he slid out of bed without waking Ivy and hastily dressed. He paused at the door, his eyes lingering on the vision of his black-haired Gypsy sleeping in the bed. His chest tightened and a soft warmth enclosed his heart as he slipped outside to retrieve some firewood from behind the lodge.