His Mistress with Two Secrets(52)

“If that’s you trying to get out of nappy duty already...”

“And she rallies,” he said with a warm stroke of his hand up her calf. “You are never weak, chérie. It is the last word I would use to describe you. All of those things you are trying to do before the babies come? You are doing them while building those babies. Why can you not see how much you are accomplishing? I can’t help you with the pregnancy, so why can’t you let me help you with the rest? Hmm?”

Because it would make her love him even more.

And then what? He wouldn’t leave. She knew that much. He wouldn’t let her leave, either. Not again. Not ever.

It was oddly humbling to realize that.

She flipped the pillow away and looked at him. He had loosened his bow tie and opened a couple of shirt buttons, which only made his tuxedo look sexier.

“Do you feel stuck with me?” she asked, confronting the root question.

“No.” He looked affronted she would ask. “I feel privileged that I’m starting a family with someone I respect and admire. You are the one who is stuck, chérie. You will always be the mother of Sauveterre twins. My mother can tell you that comes with serious drawbacks.” He reached higher to set his hand on the side of her belly. “I have placed a burden on you. At least let me carry what I can of it.”

She considered that as she looked into his hazel-green eyes. She loved him so much. What was the point in keeping hostility between them when they would be together for the rest of their lives? Holding him at arm’s length certainly wasn’t the way to win his heart. Letting him see how much she cared might.

“Can I sleep in your bed tonight?”

Something flashed in his gaze and his body tensed. “I won’t let you leave it,” he warned.

Oddly, as monumental and terrifying as his implacable possessiveness was, it also reassured her that they were a unit, moving into the future together.

“I know,” she whispered.

He rose in a fluid motion, drawing her up with him, then letting her lead him to the room he was using.

He closed the door and turned on the light.

“Don’t!” She shot out an anxious hand.

He released a ragged laugh and pulled at his clothes so roughly she could hear how little care he was taking.

Despite the near blackness, she moved to the blinds and gave them an extra twist then tugged the drapes fully closed.

“You really think the dark offers you any sort of protection, chérie?”

He was suddenly behind her, naked. She started at the touch of his hands, not because she hadn’t heard him coming, but at the zing of electricity he sent through her.

He gathered her hair out of the way and found the zipper on her dress.

As it loosened, she turned in his arms and put hers around his neck, offering her mouth to his hot, hungry kiss. She moaned, closing her eyes in the darkness, but feeling dampness against her lashes as emotion welled. She kissed him back, hard.

“You missed this, too.” He slid the fabric away and pressed his lips to her neck. “But don’t be frantic. We have a lifetime now. I’ll take care of you, but gently.”

She wanted to protest and tell him to go fast, but he kissed her again, languorously, smoothly skimming her dress away, then taking his time tracing the lace across her hips, slowly, slowly working it down her thighs.

She panted as she waited for it to fall away, to be bare to his touch.

He turned her and leaned to set light kisses across her upper chest, skin brushing skin in a whisper. His hand drifted to pet her mound.

“Yes. Please.” She covered his hand.

“Shh. I’ll make it good, I promise.” He explored deeper, carefully.

She caught her breath and arched into his touch, reaching to hold on to him as she let him take control of her pleasure.

“Oui, chérie, you love this, don’t you? I do, too.”

The closest he’d ever come to telling her he loved her and she could only gasp, digging fingernails behind his neck as she responded to his touch with a rock of her hips.

“That feels so good.” She rubbed her face into the spicy aftershave in his throat, purring like a cat enjoying strokes.

How had she resisted this for all these weeks? Why?

His free hand moved over her, shaping her hip, cupping her bottom, encouraging her to move against the hand still nestled between her thighs.

They shifted hot skin against one another, trying to get closer, angling this way and that, finding each other’s lips and kissing. Kissing and kissing for eternity.

“You’re so hot.” She slid her hand down his front, finding where he was pulled taut with arousal and clasping him, remembering all the ways to make him groan and push into her touch.