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Now she was his.

No argument.

It seemed like forever before Griffin ceased jerking against her, before he could open his eyes—eyes he hadn’t even realized he’d closed—to find her watching him.

Watching him with tears in her eyes.

His heart skipped a beat. “Christ, Flick, what is it?” His thumbs caught the teardrops which rolled down her cheeks. “Did I hurt ye? I’m sorry, I—tell me ye’re no’ hurt? God, fook, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

His palms were squeezing her cheeks, but she managed to smile. And it wasn’t a smile despite the tears, it was…something else. Something joyful.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

How was he supposed to answer that? His gaze darted between her eyes, looking for the truth, horrified she might be hurt.

But she leaned forward to brush her lips against his, and he felt his cock stirring again, deep inside her. “Thank you,” she breathed again, against his skin.

She was thanking him for spending inside her? Or for showing her pleasure once more?

With a helpless growl, he crushed her against him.

Christ, he would spend the rest of his life showing her pleasure, if that’s what she wanted. Because he was enjoying it just as much as she was.

And in that moment of clarity, Griffin realized two things:

One, Peasgoode be damned, he wanted to marry Felicity Montrose for real.

And two, there was no fooking way he could, until this mission was completed.

Chapter 19

Felicity’s body felt as if she was floating; not quite present, but at the same time, very much aware of the man who held her. She could feel his strong hand splayed across her back, feel his thumb on her cheek, feel his heart pounding near her ear.

Feel him deep inside.

The mammalian male sports a protrusible copulatory organ.

She remembered reading that, several years after she’d been forced to give up her son. By then, of course, she’d experimented and explored, and understood more about her own body. She’d also remembered exactly how a male could use his protrusible copulatory organ.

She’d read that and had realized sex, between humans, was nothing more than a biological urge to propagate the species. After all, that’s what had happened between her younger self and Exingham, even if it hadn’t been the man’s intent.

Yes, sex was merely a biological urge, and human bodies had evolved to make it feel good, so they’d want to continue doing it. Felicity had learned that she could replicate those good feelings in a small way with her own fingers—or the occasional long and slender device—and had no need to involve a male and his organ.

But…

But Griffin had taught her she was wrong.

That’s what science was about; experimenting and correcting previous incorrect assumptions.

And this one? This one had been huge.

Because what Felicity was feeling right now had nothing to do with biological urges or logic, and everything to do with her heart.

What she’d just shared with Griffin was important. Even better than what he’d taught her during their previous nights together.

Perhaps it had to do with the way it had ended.

He’d spent inside of her.