Page 80 of When the Scoundrel Sins

Murmuring her name, he continued his rocking caresses inside her. She clung to him as he swirled his hips slowly against her before retreating, rubbing tantalizingly against her sex and pulsing a soft ache deep within her. Every stroke inside her branded her as his, and she tossed back her head with joy as her body welcomed the intensity of him, filling her completely. She arched herself beneath him and rocked against his hips to bring him as deep as possible inside her. She would have let him crawl beneath her skin, if he could have, and inundate her soul with his essence.

Her hands clutched at his shoulders as the first flames shot through her, and the throbbing ache inside her fanned out to the ends of her fingers and toes. For one desperate moment, she fought against her release, knowing tonight would be the last time she would ever be with him and wanting to make it last as long as she could. But restraint was impossible, and she broke.

Her release came not as a wave of hot pleasure but a gentle, warm lapping at her toes that crept up her body until it engulfed her. He brought her to climax this time not with a cry of passion but a blissful sigh of love.

“Annabelle,” he whispered as he rested his forehead against her bare shoulder and released himself inside her.

At that new sensation, her body shivered with a second, even more intense pleasure. He hadn’t used that clever little sheath this time to separate them, and he had been right—making love was far nicer this way, with no barriers at all between them.

Only then did she realize that she was whispering his name over and over. But she couldn’t stop herself. She knew she would never again feel as perfect and complete as she did when Quinn was holding her in his arms.

***

Quinton leaned over to place a kiss in the middle of Belle’s bare back as she lounged on her belly across her bed, all sex-rumpled and relaxed. His lips curled against her warm skin, and he couldn’t resist the urge to chuckle, so happy was he to have Annabelle with him like this.

He hadn’t meant to take her like that, certainly not without using the last of the condoms he still had in his possession. But the surprising little bluestocking had aroused him to the point where all that mattered was being inside her. It was a risk he shouldn’t have taken, but he simply couldn’t help himself. Especially since he fully intended to marry her.

There was no doubt inside him about that now. He belonged right here with Annabelle. If any hesitations had still been lingering inside him, this second intimacy dashed them all. He’d been right about her from the beginning—a man didn’t give himself to her and then walk away.

She turned her head to gaze up at him, with her cheek resting on her folded arms and her caramel hair tumbling around her shoulders. A contented smile played at her lips.

His chest tightened as he stared down at her. Sweet Lucifer, he could certainly get used to nights like this. And once they were married, there would be no reason not to.

He traced a fingertip over her mouth, drawing her smile. When she closed her lips around his finger and sucked suggestively, the sensation pulsed all the way down to the tip of his cock. He groaned softly.

“Keep doing that,” he warned as he pulled his hand away, “and I’ll have you on your back again.”

Her eyes sparkled mischievously. “Is that supposed to be a warning or an enticement?”

“Wanton,” he scolded. Yet he grinned at her, unable to resist her infectious happiness tonight. She had every right to be happy. Glenarvon was now secure, and she knew that the viscount had loved her as a true daughter.

The only issue left unresolved was marriage.

She didn’t need to marry at all now, but he fully intended to marryher. The new conditions of her inheritance made not one whit of difference to him. They belonged together; tonight proved that, and she needed him, now more than ever. Being recognized as Ainsley’s illegitimate daughter wouldn’t be easy. Neither would running the estate. He could help her with both, while she helped him become the man he wanted to be. Successful, hardworking, devoted to his family and the village…the kind of man who would make his father proud.

But he had to convince her of that. And if it took repeatedly making love to her to do it, then he was most definitely willing to sacrifice himself to the flames.

“You know,” she commented in a throaty voice as she sat up to bring herself into his arms, unwittingly giving him a perfect view of her full breasts and the sweet curls between her thighs, “if I had known that being naked with you would be so much fun, I think I might have stripped you bare right there beneath St James’s roses six years ago.”

He laughed and nuzzled his face against her shoulder, not wanting to dampen her amusement by telling her that many couples had done just that beneath that same bower, if rumors could be trusted. Of course, that gossip was also entwined with apocryphal stories about leather and bayonets, so he wasn’t certain what to believe. Except that if she had tried, he certainly would have let her.

With a soft growl, he leaned over and kissed her, teasing fresh arousal inside her until he felt her shiver. He smiled against her lips. The fire he so loved to flame inside her now belonged solely to him, and he planned on never letting it go.

He cupped her face in his hands. Her eyes were closed, her lips red and wet from his kisses, and never had she looked more alluring. She tilted her face toward him in invitation to be kissed again, and it took all his strength to keep himself from doing just that. And more.

“Would you like your birthday present now?” he asked, his fingertips stroking her cheek. If he didn’t distract both of them, and quickly, he’d be hard and between her thighs again before she could whisper his name. While the thought was deliciously tempting, he also knew how sore she would be in the morning. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her, in any way.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked up at him, puzzled. “My…what?”

He laughed and kissed the tip of her nose. “Did you think that bedding you was your gift?”

“Of course not.” Then she confided in a breathy whisper, staring at him seductively through lowered lashes, “But itwasthe best present I’ve ever been given.”

Hiding his pleased grin, he lowered his mouth to place an openmouthed kiss against her shoulder. Her comment stirred more pride inside him than he deserved. Still, he liked it. Immensely.

Before he got caught up in her again, he slipped away and crossed the room to his satchel. He pulled out a blue velvet pouch tied with a gold-tasseled cord. He handed her the bag, then reclined across the bed beside her on his elbow.

“Go on.” He leaned over to kiss her bare thigh as she stared down at the weighty velvet sack in her hand. “Open it.”