Page 49 of Mad Duke March

She tensed, kneading his shoulders with her fingers as her muscles contracted and she felt emptiness in her center as she’d never felt before. Alec deepened the kiss, while his cock slid over her center, gathering her juices, gliding against her sensitive flesh. He thrust against her, teasing her swollen little nub with every move.

Emily could only moan and whimper, her hand on his hips, her fingers digging into his skin, encouraging him to move faster and faster, chasing the feeling of complete surrender, waiting for the pressure to build inside her before the ultimate release. With an untamed cry, she came apart in his arms again, lost in ecstasy.

He continued his thrusts for a few more moments before joining her in the blissful state.

His breathing loud and heavy, he collapsed on top of her, his weight comforting if a bit crushing.

He finally turned onto his side and playfully flicked her nipple.

“Ah! I’m still too sensitive,” she squeaked with a chuckle and received a playful kiss in answer.

He rolled away, jumping to his feet and disappearing into the dressing room before reappearing again with a wet towel.

Emily was covered with sweat, but what she did not realize right away was that her husband’s seed was on her belly.

He quickly cleaned up the juices between her legs and his own seed from her belly before discarding the towel. Then he took her into his arms, easily carrying her to the bed.

He helped her inside the covers and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

He hesitated for a moment, and a strange fear took place in the pit of her stomach. Was he going to leave?

Emily tugged on his arm, and it seemed to overpower whatever internal struggle he was having with himself. He quickly crawled into bed and gathered her against his chest.

The feeling of warmth and safety was slightly overshadowed by a nervousness in the pit of her stomach as he wrapped his arms around her. As pleasant—no, blissful, no… out of this world—as the experience had been for her, she knew that in order to sire a child, he needed to spill his seed inside of her, not on her belly. More importantly, she wanted to feel him inside. Not only his fingers and his tongue, but his engorged manhood. The single thought brought back the tingle low in her belly.

She knew it was wanton. She was wanton. But she couldn’t help but feel rejected that he didn’t feel the same.

A part of her, however, felt relief.

Because although it had been her goal to trick him into thinking that the child inside her was his, she didn’t want that anymore.

Things had changed between them. She’d gotten to know her husband better. She’d come to care for him, and she thought he cared for her too, and for her family. He wasn’t the man her mother feared him to be. And he deserved to know the truth about the child inside her.

It would’ve been better if she’d told him earlier, before they fell into each other’s arms. Now she was afraid it would set their relationship back a step. He could withdraw his affection, grow distant from her. He might not want to share any more intimacies with her. Not just physical ones, but emotional ones, too. And he’d be within his right to do so.

But there could be no closeness between them when there was a large secret between them. She needed to tell him the truth.

Emily looked up at him, ready to do just that, only to see that his eyes were closed, his chest rising and falling with peaceful breaths.

He was asleep.

And a part of her was glad that she had a temporary reprieve.

Chapter Eighteen

Emily woke up in her bed alone.

The cold sheets on her husband’s side let her know that he had left a long time ago, which was odd since the sun was just rising above the horizon. A fleeting memory of her waking up alone in bed each time Bernard had visited her crossed her mind. He used to climb up her window, spend a few hours, and climb back down before the night was over. It always left her feeling lonely, even rejected, although she understood the reasoning behind it.

Now that she was married, she’d thought she would never have to feel this way again. She had been wrong.

She longed to wake up in her husband's warm embrace. To feel as safe as she’d felt the night before.

Emily let out a deep sigh and rolled off the bed. She picked up the torn pieces of her shift and her cheeks burnt at the memory of her husband ripping the fabric and what came after.

She wanted to see him again. Did he want the same?

Did it matter?