Page 106 of How To Tempt A Bodyguard

Florence's head fell back, a moan tearing from her throat. He licked into her with the same ferocity he'd used to take her, relentless pressure against the place that made her see stars.

Her hands found his hair, gripped hard. She was standing on the edge of a cliff, about to fall.

She shattered.

The orgasm ripped through her, clenching her around nothing, making her sob his name. He held her through it, his mouth never stopping, wringing every last shudder from her body.

When she finally came back to herself, he was standing again, hard and leaking, his eyes black with need.

"On hands and knees," he said.

She turned. Felt him slide back inside her, filling her so completely she couldn't tell where she ended and he began. His cock rammed into her as their breaths became more ragged. She could feel her cunny gripping him, pulling at him, reluctant to let him go.

“Hell… so good,” he breathed.

She pushed against him, couldn’t get enough of him. She wanted to feel him impale her quim, wanted to feel him until he returned to her for good.

But this time, when she was close—when she was trembling on the edge again, her muscles clenching around him—he pulled out, turned her around, and lifted her so she was facing him.

He entered her again, this time watching her face.

"Want to see you," he said hoarsely. "When you come."

She wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck. Their foreheads pressed together. Their breath mingled.

"I love you," she whispered.

"I love you." He thrust deeper. "Florence…"

"I know." She kissed him. "Fill me."

He came with her name on his lips, his whole-body shuddering, his face twisted with intense pleasure. She followed him over the edge, clenching around him, crying out against his mouth.

Then everything stilled except for their ragged breathing. They stayed like that. Tangled together. Breathing hard. Holding on.

"I have to go back," he said finally. His voice was rough. Reluctant.

"I know."

He told her about the shipment. Fourteen girls. Leith. Tomorrow night.

"Carrick will get suspicious if you intercept at delivery," he said. "I'll send word when they're being transferred. You can take them during the move."

She nodded, already thinking through logistics.

His thumb lightly stroked her cheek. "I'll come back to you."

"You'd better." She kissed him softly. "Or I'll drag you back from hell myself."

He laughed—that rough, rusty sound she loved—and kissed her one more time.

Then he was gone.

Florence stood in the cold barn, her body still humming with the echo of his touch and began planning the rescue of the girls.

Just when she thought she couldn’t feel closer to her husband, she did. Fighting the same war from different fronts. Trusting each other to do what needed to be done. This was true partnership.

She pulled on her clothes, straightened her hair, and walked back to the cottage.