Page 68 of An Ill-Made Match

Roland shrugged out of his doublet. “Here, Parnell!” he said sternly, and the dog grudgingly climbed to his feet and hopped down off the bed. He shot a dirty look at Roland, as he opened the bedroom door and ordered loudly: “Out!” The dogs all came to their feet and reluctantly skulked over to the door. Shutting it behind them and turning the key, Roland crossed to the washstand and washed his hands face, and neck in cold water there.

“We’ve a maid now,” said Eden, her eyes still on the page. “You could ask her to bring hot water.”

“Haven’t got the time,” answered Roland succinctly, stripping himself off and toweling himself dry.

“What do you mean, you haven’t got the time?” asked Eden frowning, as he crossed the room toward her.

“I mean,” said Roland, hopping nimbly into the box bed, and pulling the doors shut behind him. “That, I haven’t got the time.” He took the book from Eden’s hands and tossed it over his shoulder as he settled over her.

“Careful with that!” chided Eden, as he took her lips in a kiss he had been anticipating for days. His hands sought for the edges of her blankets. He tore his mouth from hers. “Give me your tongue,” he urged. “Like last time.”

Eden’s cheeks turned crimson. “Well, really-!” she spluttered.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about it,” he admitted thickly, dragging down the blanket. Finally. His large hand covered her breast, making out its shape.

“Don’t tear my new shift, it’s very delicate,” Eden said irritably. “Your hands are cold.”

“So warm me up then, you little shrew.” She tutted, but fussed around, dragging the sheets up around his shoulders. “I meant with your body,” Roland told her with a laugh.

“You were gone six days,” said Eden accusingly. “Not four or five!”

Roland felt an unaccountable warm feeling spreading through his chest. He’d meant to join his aching body to hers as soon as possible, but now for some reason, he was inclined to tarry over exchanging words with her. Unfathomable. “Did you miss me, then?”

“No!” huffed Eden. “I had better things to do, I assure you!”

“Did you?” He kissed her neck, moving her dark braid out of the way. He wanted it loose and falling around her shoulders. “The servants told me you’ve been moping about the place. Lonely and missing me.” Gods, her skin was soft.

“They grossly exaggerated,” Eden replied, but she sounded breathless and distracted as he lingered over the flickering pulse in her throat.

“I missed you too,” he heard himself groan. “Gods Eden, you’ve no idea.“ She caught her breath at that, and he pressed his advantage by taking her mouth again, and the kiss he’d wanted all along. They were both panting after that, and she finally seemed to catch his urgency. He squeezed her breasts. “Are my hands still cold?” he rumbled.

“N-no,” she conceded, and he reached down between them, bunching up her shift, cupping her between her legs.

“Gods, Eden,” he whispered, stroking her most secret feminine place. “Your pelt here is velvety soft, I could pet you all day.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “Must you talk, when you’re doing such things!”

“Yes, I must,” he said, though in truth, he could not remember such a compulsion before now. “I want you to talk back to me too.”

She opened one eye. “Don’t call it my pelt.”

“What shall I call it then?” He slipped a finger inside her and she made a muffled sound that made the blood pound in his ears. “Eden?” he prompted.

“I don’t know,” she gasped.

He closed his own eyes when he felt her get his finger wet. Rubbing his thumb through her curls, he added another finger, and she whimpered. “I want to put my mouth there,” he admitted. “But you’re already wet enough for my cock.” Eden’s eyes flew open. “Which shall it be?” he mused. “Will you promise to come on my cock this time? Like a good wife?” Eden’s gaze back at him was blank and slightly glazed. “No preference?” He teased.

“Don’t toy with me,” she said, a tremor running through her voice.

He moved his fingers and she gave a startled moan. “I don’t think you mind as much as you make out.” He slid his thumb lower, to tease her hidden pearl. “You liked my tongue here last time,” he said tapping it.

Eden’s eyes widened. “R-Roland!” she gasped shakily.

“Shall I do it again?”

She surprised him, by rolling her hips. “Please,” she murmured, and her hand flew from his shoulder to slide between them, catching his hand, and pressing it between her legs.

“Just my fingers?” he grunted. “You want them here?”