Page 69 of The Earl

A little at first. Testing.

And then a bit harder. Her hips pressed upward, and so he circled her. Not daring to go too quickly.

“More,” she said, breaking contact.

He had so much more to give.

Wanting to both close his eyes for the pleasure of being inside Cait and keep them open to watch her face, Conrad decided on the latter. Lifting her leg on one side, he sank in so deeply that for a moment he thought he’d hurt her again.

But her cry was of pleasure, not pain.

So he moved faster. Pumped harder.

Cait’s nails dug into his back, and he welcomed them as a reminder of their union. If she left a mark, it wouldn’t be the first he’d gain because of this woman. And like the first, he would revel in the reminder that they were linked.

Always.

“More.” She met his every thrust, as if her virgin’s barrier were a distant memory. His arse clenched in anticipation, her breathing and frantic moans telling him it would not be much longer. A pity, in some ways. But he’d wanted her too much, and for too long, for him to achieve the endurance he would have desired.

He couldn’t hold out much longer.

“Conrad,” she yelled, and he responded. With a final thrust, he cried out as she clenched against him. The pressure was more than he could take as every muscle in his body tensed and then slowly, blessedly, relaxed.

Still joined, he pulled her on top of him, where his wife promptly collapsed.

Lying beside the fire, covered by his beautiful, spirited wife, Conrad could die a contented man.

Shoving aside the thought that he very well might die, and soon, he lifted Cait’s head and laughed at her expression.

“Why,” she said, pulling a strand of her hair behind her ear, “did you not do that sooner?”

He pulled out gently, repositioning them.

“You know the reason very well, lass.”

She shook her head vigorously. “But if I’d known . . .”

Her entire body shivered.

Conrad could not stop smiling.

“’Twas the most difficult thing I’ve ever done, restraining myself these past days.”

“The most difficult? Of all the things you have done? I do not believe you.”

He could feel himself stirring already. Not unexpected given their position.

“Nay, ’twas not the most difficult.”

Satisfied by his admission, she made a sound in the back of her throat. It reminded him of a kitten, but Cait was no mewling kitten.

She was more like a full-grown cat, one who could as easily hiss away its enemies as it could curl into a ball on your lap.

He did not want to dampen the mood, but he also would not lie to her. For too long they’d held back, and it had nearly kept them apart forever.

“The most difficult was to watch you ride away from that tourney between your brothers, not knowing if I would ever see you again.”

She tsked. “You hardly knew me.”