Once a Duchess(104)

 

“Don’t stop,” she said. “Come with me.”

 

His mouth dropped open, and Isabelle closed her eyes. She felt him shift over her, moving higher, while maintaining their joining.

 

The change in position had the base of his shaft dragging against her tight bud with every stroke. Everything below her navel clenched. It was all she could do to hang on and ride the pounding waves of pleasure he brought her with every driving thrust.

 

“Love you, Isabelle,” he said between heavy pants.

 

“Love you so much,” was her breathless reply.

 

Their sweat-slicked skins slid together with sinful ease, every movement ratcheting her tighter and tighter until … “Aaah!” she cried. Her heels pressed into the mattress and the force of her orgasm arched her off the bed, lifting Marshall just as his own climax had his fingers digging into her hips, holding them tight together while he poured into her womb.

 

When they were spent, Marshall held her close for a moment, then disengaged from her arms. He dropped a kiss to her damp brow and hastily dressed to inform the captain they would not sail just yet.

 

He paused in the doorway and gave her a sated smile. “I must warn you,” he drawled, “the only reason I proposed is because we need another cook. This is a working expedition, after all. No lazing about like a pampered duchess.”

 

Joyous mirth bubbled up inside Isabelle and spilled out in a gale of silvery laughter. She tossed a pillow at his head, which he easily caught. He brought it back to the bed and leaned over. He planted his hands on the mattress on either side of her. She loved the feeling of being surrounded by him.

 

“However,” he said, his eyes full of rekindling passion, “you’ll spend most of your time right here, assisting me in the very important endeavor of producing an heir.”

 

She rose to meet him as another wave of desire fell across her. “That,” she said, smiling wickedly and curling her fingers around the back of his neck, “is an occupation I shall be glad to have.”