Page 66 of An Unexpected Earl

He shook his head, his body tense with restraint as he panted out between labored breaths, “I don’t…want to…hurt you.”

“You won’t.” She wrapped her legs around him, locking her ankles at the small of his back. “Give yourself to me. I’ve waited too long already.”

She bit his bottom lip in wanton challenge.

A growl tore from him, and he thrust into her, the single stroke so powerful and deep that she gasped. But primal pleasure also surged through her, and she clung to him, welcoming both her own overwhelming rush of passion and his capitulation to the raw desire flaming between them.

His large hands closed over her hips, and he guided her into a fast, hard rhythm, lifting her hips to meet each plunge of his. Moans of need poured from her. She was unable to stop herself from crying them out, just as she was unable to stop her body from moving with his. They were joined completely now, body to body, soul to soul, and she couldn’t tell where she ended and he began.

The fire of release began to build inside her again, this time spreading out from low in her belly like a gathering storm. Each driving plunge of his hard body into hers sent a powerful jolt of yearning spinning through her, each retreat a devastating loss. She clasped her arms around his neck and simply held on as she felt herself running toward the fire, to sacrifice herself to the flames.

The storm broke over her, raining sparks and flames down upon her. Her release flashed like lightning, hot and just as electric. The pain of the past washed away until all she knew was bliss.

With one last thrust, he sank deep and held himself tightly against her. His body arched above hers as he poured himself into her, his buttocks squeezing to give up every last drop of his essence to her. Selfishly, she drank him in, refusing to surrender any part of him now that he was finally hers.

He collapsed onto the mattress beside her. She turned onto her side to continue to hold him, spent and shaking, in her arms. She couldn’t bring herself to release him and end this moment, not yet. Tears gathered at her lashes in stunned appreciation of how he was capable of devastating her so completely.

He rested his forehead against her bare shoulder as he struggled to regain his breath. Slowly, he found the strength to place a tender kiss to her hot lips.

“I’ve never…never,” he murmured, unable to put into words the experience they’d just shared. As if just as bewildered as she about the intensity of the passion between them, the overwhelming affection that bound them together. “You have no idea how special you are to me.” He lowered his head to nuzzle his cheek against hers. “I love you, Amelia. I always have.”

Her pulse spiked.Thiswas the moment she wanted to remember for the rest of her life, of being held in his arms when she felt safe and protected. When she could let herself believe that the rest of the world didn’t exist and tomorrow would never come. When there was only Pearce and nothing else mattered but being loved by him.

His eyes shone intensely in the firelight. “Marry me, Amelia.”

With that, her world shattered.

“We belong together… We always have.” He touched his lips to hers, mistaking her shocked silence for nervous uncertainty. “Now more than ever.”

“No.” The single word was barely more than a breath falling lifelessly across her stunned lips. How she managed even that much effort, she had no idea. Because the pain engulfing her was blinding. Starting at the tips of her toes, it worked its way upward until it reached her chest and strangled her heart. “I can’t…I can’t marry you.”

Confusion darkened his face. “You don’t love me?”

“Of course I love you.” Her fingers trembled as they reached for him, to touch his jaw and feel his strength and solidity. She breathed out the confession, “I’ve always loved you.”

“Then why won’t you marry me?”

His handsome face blurred beneath the anguished tears that welled in her eyes. “Because…I’m already married.”

Eighteen

Pearce poured a glass of whiskey. He’d need fortification to get through this conversation. He also needed a few minutes away from Amelia to clear his head and tamp down his shock. And his anger.

To keep a secret like this from him, and when they’d just—Damnation.

Crossing the small room to her, he held out the glass as she stood at the window, looking out at the dimly lit street below. But the sleeping city was still shrouded in fog and darkness and would be for another several hours. Dawn was still a long time away.

She declined the drink.

“I think you’ll need it,” he cajoled. Lord knew how much he did!

“And I don’t think there’s enough whiskey in the world to make this any easier.”

Perhaps not. But whiskey would take the edge off, that was certain. And right now, he was fighting back the urge to punch his fist through the wall.

So he raised the glass to his lips with hard-won calmness. As he took a deep swallow, he studied her over the rim of the glass.

Dear God, she was beautiful, even in that ruined black gown that she’d pulled back on. Her hair had come down again during their lovemaking, and now it fell around her slender shoulders like a golden curtain and made her almost look sixteen again. Except for the womanly curves beneath. And the grief that darkened her face.