His movements were slow, setting his pace by her response. Seeking something more, something elusive, she arched her hips against his, gasping as he increased his rhythm. A sheen of sweat rose on their skin.
“Still all right?” he gasped, sounding as if the question pained him.
“Battering. Battering is good.”
He sputtered out a half laugh, half groan, and thrust deeply into her, fully embedding himself.
She dug her fingers into his back, holding his body to hers as her desire and the sting of pain had her crying out. He clutched her close and kissed her deeply, his tongue darting in as he thrust his hips against hers.
Good lord, she was whimpering, and the sounds appeared to inflame him further. It was like riding a tumultuous wave of desire. Over and over. Her passion overwhelmed her, sensations warring. And then the wave curled, peaked, and the warm tide of her release flooded her. She cried out Daniel’s name and clutched him tighter.
Her cheek pressed to his chest, she listened to the pounding beat of his heart. He moaned low and deep, his movements now faster and less graceful. He gave a few more deep thrusts, and her name exploded from his lips, his climax pouring from him.
He collapsed on top of her, his cheek against her breast, their bodies sweat-slicked and spent. It was wonderfully delicious, decadent . . . She inhaled and realized she could not draw air into her lungs. She pinched his side. “You are heavy. Slide over.”
He grunted, his lips curving against her breast. “My forthright fiancée.” He shifted to her side, and gathered her into his arms. Her back was to his chest, and he cradled her close.
“I have a question,” she said softly, her voice sleep-slurred.
“Of course you do.”
“How soon can we do that again?”
“You might be sore. But not too long.” He leaned over her to meet her eyes, a smile warming his.
“Good.” She closed her eyes and snuggled against him, pressed to his heart, right where she wished to be. “I have another question.”
Love me. Say you love me, she silently implored.
“What is it?” His hand was playing with her hair, and she had to summon up her last vestige of energy to speak, tamping down the fervent cry of her heart. “Does Lakeview Manor have a nursery?”
His hand stilled and she felt the pounding of his heart. It took him a while to respond and he sounded as if he had to clear his throat to do so. “I believe we can make room for one.”
“See that you do.”
She smiled at his soft laugh, closing her eyes as he held her close. She had always yearned for something more, and Daniel had given it to her. She never could have fathomed there were such blissful advantages to being a ruined woman. Had she known, she might have become one much sooner.
After all, it had brought Daniel to her.
Now she just needed him to tell her that he loved her back.
That he could not live without her.
She was planning on it.
Chapter Twenty-six
THEY had been in Bedfordshire for over a week when the news of Julia’s broken engagement became public. As bets were settled at White’s, Daniel and Julia remained buffered from the worst of the accounts, sequestered within the fortresslike walls of Taunton Court. The earl had insisted Daniel move into the guest wing, resolving to demonstrate his support of Julia and Daniel’s relationship in the hopes of stemming some of the tide of gossip. Brett had joined them as well, his arm still splinted and healing.
Daniel was quite content to move into Taunton Court. It certainly made his evenings far more pleasurable. Or, at least some of them.
Julia was circumspect in their illicit trysts. He often had to peel back her prim-and-proper layers in order to uncover his daring and improper Julia. He had no complaints, other than being desperate to solve this damnable mystery so he could get married and toss out the last of Julia’s reservations as well as his own. He had feared proposing to her, but he feared letting her go more.
However, a trip to the parish church would have to wait. He had yet to obtain a special license, and Taunton advised waiting until the furor of Julia’s broken betrothal died down before stirring up more excitement with the announcement of their engagement. Underlying all of this was Daniel’s fear of wedding Julia one day, only to widow her the next, proving Taunton’s words prophetic.
Edmund was a dark shadow haunting him. Daniel found himself starting at sharp sounds and restless at night. Once he had awoken struggling to breathe, gripped in the nightmare of the fire and his near suffocation. Julia’s soothing words had brought him back. She anchored him. He had been a foundering ship without a homeport until Julia.
Edmund be damned.