Page 19 of A Wicked Business (Wicked Sons #10)

Dearest Belinda,

We have been reading the shocking story of your abduction. Whilst I know better than to believe anything written in a scandal sheet, friends just arrived from town insist it is all true. It sounds utterly terrifying and, sadly, all too plausible. Mr Flint always made my skin creep. Please write back at once and reassure me.

Further to this, a little bird tells me you are to marry Felix! You wicked creature! Was this your plan from the beginning? I am in awe of your scheming. Well done, my friend!

――Excerpt of a letter from The Most Hon’ble Catherine ‘Cat’ St Just, Lady Kilbane (daughter of The Most Hon’ble Lucian and Matilda Montagu, the Marquess and Marchioness of Montagu) to The Lady Belinda Madox-Brown.

14 th August 1850, Keston House, Grosvenor Square, London.

“How the devil did Lady Helena arrange such a grand affair in the time?” Papa grumbled as she took his arm and they got their first glimpse of the ballroom at Keston House, packed with people.

“She’s a marvel, and a law unto herself,” Belinda said happily, almost bursting with excitement.

“Hmph. Like someone else I know,” he said, turning to look at his only daughter. A crease formed between his brows as he gazed down at her, his expression solemn. “You are certain?”

Belinda smiled up at him. “As certain as anyone can be when taking such a step, Papa. He’s a good man, and one who won’t crush my spirit or think me nothing but a pretty ornament. But he won’t let me rule him, either. He’s strong enough to stand up to me when I’m being awful.”

Her father laughed at that and shook his head. “I have missed out on so much, your entire life it seems, and now when it is too late, I find I regret it. I would do it all again if I could and do it differently.”

Belinda felt tears prickle at her eyes. “Oh, Papa, don’t make me cry now, drat you!” she exclaimed. “But it is not too late. Not in the least. You shall see me all the time if you wish to, and your grandchildren too, when they come. I expect you to be a doting grandpapa, you know.”

“I should like that,” he said, a wistful gleam in his eyes.

“Well, then, you had best hurry and give me away,” Belinda told him sternly, getting a rueful smile in return.

Belinda was not entirely convinced that this humble, regretful Papa would endure. She feared in time work and ambition would take his attention and perhaps he would drift back into his old ways, but then, perhaps not. He seemed entirely sincere, and she was certainly ready to give him the benefit of the doubt. For now, his acceptance of her marriage to Felix and the joy of being able to celebrate with his approval and support, was everything she had ever dreamed of.

When she saw Felix waiting for her, dressed formally in a beautifully tailored dark blue tailcoat with buff trousers and waistcoat, her heart leapt with eager delight. A black tie completed the ensemble and, as Belinda gazed at him, an oddly thrilling sensation thrummed under her skin, a dizzying mixture of anticipation and excitement.

He smiled as he saw her, a possessive light in his eyes which did nothing to diminish the nervous energy buzzing inside her. His gaze travelled over her, and she shivered as though his hands had taken the same path.

Somehow, Lady Helena had wrought a miracle with her wedding gown. Her new mother-in-law’s own modiste had supplied a stunning dress of ivory, heavily embroidered at the bottom of the skirts with flowers and vines, whilst bees and butterflies flitted further up and over the bodice. It was the most beautiful gown Belinda had ever seen and, combined with a diamond parure including a magnificent tiara that had belonged to her mother, she felt like a princess.

“He does not deserve you, my child,” her father whispered, just before he handed her over to her husband-to-be.

Belinda’s smile faltered, hoping he would not spoil things at the last moment, but he only smiled and pressed her hand between his.

“No man ever could,” he told her softly, before raising her fingers to his lips and kissing them.

Belinda blinked, touched by his words, before going and standing beside Felix, waiting with impatience for the ceremony to begin. Suddenly she was glad, glad things had happened at such speed, glad they had not had to tolerate months of well-chaperoned courtship. She did not think she could have endured it when her longing for him seemed to burn inside her and grow with the speed of a wildfire.

The ceremony seemed to go on forever, and Belinda did her best to attend to the words, to speak her vows and mean them… well, except for the obeying bit. She had slanted a meaningful glance at Felix when saying that part and he had struggled to keep his countenance, knowing as well as she did it was a forlorn hope.

Finally, it was over, and the groom was given leave to kiss his bride. Belinda raised her face, expecting a soft press of his lips, and was startled to be taken in her husband’s arms and the job done thoroughly, to mingled exclamations of laughter and encouragement, and a few gasps of shock.

Belinda blushed a fiery red as he released her. He looked smug, a wicked light dancing in his eyes.

“I shall get you for that,” she promised him under her breath, wondering how on earth she would face her father—or anyone!

“Be my guest,” he replied, winking at her.

Belinda bit her lip. She had spent the past days wondering exactly what it would be like to be married to this man and now she thought it might be a good deal of fun.

Well-wishers engulfed them as the guests swarmed and Belinda was suddenly caught up in an enthusiastic hug, as a delightful floral scent and rustling skirts enveloped her.

“Cat!” she laughed, as her friend kissed her cheek.

“Oh, well done, Belle! You realise you are practically family now, don’t you? Felix and I grew up together, his parents and mine are such close friends. Come along, my father wishes to congratulate you.”

Rather daunted by the prospect of speaking with Montagu, Belinda opened her mouth to protest but Cat gave her no opportunity, towing her inexorably towards the marquess and his beautiful wife.

Cool silver eyes met hers and she swallowed anxiously, but his usually unsmiling face warmed as he looked at her.

“Lady Belinda. We are so happy for you and for Felix. We hope you will come and visit it us at Dern when you are able to.”

“Oh, yes, Belle, do come. Ciarán and I will come too, and it will be such fun,” Cat said with enthusiasm.

“Did I invite you?” Montagu asked his irrepressible daughter.

“There was no need, Papa. I know I’m always welcome,” Cat said, sliding her arm into her father’s and gazing adoringly up at him.

Montagu shook his head and sighed. “I am much put upon,” he grumbled.

His wife patted his arm soothingly. “Stop pretending you don’t like visitors,” she scolded him, though her eyes danced with laughter. She turned to Belinda, a look of warm understanding in her lovely blue eyes. “We hope you will both be very happy, my dear. You certainly deserve to be.”

“Thank you, Lady Montagu, Lord Montagu. Felix has spoken so fondly of you both I am sure we will accept your invitation soon.”

“See that you do,” Montagu said, and then looked around as his son walked up to them. “Ah, Philip. You’ve congratulated Lady Belinda?”

“Not yet, but as I was instrumental in getting the happy couple here, I believe I shall kiss the bride.”

Belinda looked at him in surprise. She had never known him to be so relaxed and jovial. He leaned in and kissed her cheek, his eyes glittering with amusement. “Well done, my lady,” he said gravely. “And I cannot help but think I had a lucky escape.”

Belinda laughed in outrage. “Oh, you devil. How could you?”

Ashburton shrugged, unrepentant. “I think we both know it’s true.”

“Well, for me as well as for you, in that case,” she replied tartly, a truth he acknowledged with a slight inclination of his head, his lips twitching.

The next hour was a whirl of snatched conversations as everyone wanted to speak to the bride and groom and felicitate them. Though for most of this time Felix and Belinda stood hand-in-hand, she barely shared a word with her husband until it was time to cut the bride cake. A servant whisked away the top tier, and Felix leaned down to whisper in her ear.

“Don’t worry, love. You’ll see that cake again soon enough,” he promised.

Belinda choked, knowing it would be used when they christened their first child, and batted his hand away as he squeezed her waist, making her squeal and giggle like a schoolgirl.

“Behave,” she scolded, but he was too full of happiness and joy to do anything of the sort and looked as unrepentant as a boy.

She laughed, shaking her head and drank the glass of champagne he handed her far quicker than she should.

As the afternoon wore on, the room grew hotter and noisier. The double doors were flung open to the garden where the youngest guests ran about, laughing and playing chase. The house had never felt so joyful and brimming with life and Belinda looked over her at her father to discover him smiling and looking quite merry as he bent his head to listen to Lady Helena.

Well, if anyone could charm him, that lady ought to manage it, she thought with a smile.

“Belinda?”

She looked up to find Felix watching her, a look in his eyes that made her breath hitch.

“Yes?”

“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asked her gently.

“Oh, yes, it’s been the most wonderful day,” she said, gazing around the room at their guests, all chattering and sharing in the joy of their celebration. “I’m so happy I could burst,” she said, feeling a little giddy with it and wondering if she should not have drunk that last glass of champagne.

“I’m glad, love, but… do you think you could bear to leave now?”

Belinda turned back to him, blinking. “Leave?” she repeated, really feeling a trifle floaty and blurry about the edges. “Oh! You want to go to bed,” she said, and then hiccoughed.

“Hush!” Felix said, looking as though he didn’t know whether to laugh or scold her. “Wicked girl. Keep your voice down. Of course I want to take you to bed, but there’s no need to tell everyone.”

Belinda snorted and leaned in, whispering in his ear. “I think they know,” she said, before erupting into giggles.

“Good Lord,” Felix said with a sigh. “How much champagne have you had?”

Belinda frowned and counted on her fingers.

“Never mind,” he told her. “I’ll sober you up soon enough.”

They left the celebration with cheers and cries of good luck. Belinda discovered her father looked quite tearful and but did not know whether she was relieved or terrified when she saw the Duchess of Bedwin take hold of his arm and guide him back inside, a determined look on her face.

“Oh dear,” Belinda said anxiously.

“Don’t worry, love. Now he’s part of the family, Aunt Prue has decided she must convert him to her way of thinking. I’m afraid your father doesn’t stand a chance.”

Belinda looked askance but Felix only laughed and patted her hand.

“Your father is the one in trouble, Belle, I promise you.”

Assured by his confidence, Belinda sat back as the carriage pulled away and Felix let out a sigh of relief as Grosvenor Square disappeared from view.

“Alone at last,” he said in relief, drawing down the blinds before reaching over and hauling Belinda into his lap.

Belinda laughed, subsiding with a great ruffle and swish of skirts and petticoats, though her laughter was smothered by the press of his mouth, warm and urgent upon hers. Though he had kissed her passionately before, there was an added potency in his kisses now, as though he would devour her if he could. He stole her breath and her wits and succeeded in sobering her up somewhat, just as he promised.

“Felix!” she replied breathlessly, once he deigned to let her go. She traced the outline of her lips with wonder. They tingled with the desperate desire for more. “You never kissed me like that before,” she said reproachfully.

“I should think not. I would have got us both into all sorts of trouble,” he told her, his eyes glittering with mirth.

“Sounds rather fun,” she said, looking at him from under her lashes.

“Oh, it is, I promise you, but less so when one is being pursued by an irate father. Still, now we are married, I can do what I like with you,” he added, waggling his eyebrows at her.

“Oh, can you indeed, Mr Knight?”

“I can indeed, Lady Knight. It’s written in law.”

Belinda’s face darkened momentarily. “Yes, well, that’s something I intend to lobby Parliament about and—”

Another kiss smothered her indignation, and she sighed, melting against him and coiling her arms about his neck.

“You’ll have my full support, love,” he murmured against her ear. “But let's not discuss it now, eh?”

“Discuss what?” Belinda said dreamily and pulled his head back down again.

They were to spend the next week at Claridge’s, on the recommendation of Gabriel Knight, who had arranged and paid for their stay, as they did not yet have a home of their own and Felix’s bachelor apartments were deemed unsuitable. The only problem with this arrangement, in Belinda’s opinion, was that it was only just around the corner, and things had just begun to get interesting when the carriage rumbled to a halt.

“Drat,” she said crossly as Felix removed her arms from his neck and sat her back in her seat.

“Don’t worry, love. We’ll be alone in just a few moments.”

Happily, Felix was proven correct, as his father’s usual efficiency meant they were swept through the hotel and upstairs to the best suite of room.

Belinda exclaimed with delight as she discovered a bright airy room filled with flowers and arrangements of exotic fruits and sweetmeats. Champagne chilled on ice with two glasses at the ready and the manager, once assured that everything was perfect, made a swift exit.

“Oh, Felix, it’s just beautiful,” she said, moving about the room and exclaiming over the lovely wall hangings and the pretty bedcovers and elegant furniture.

“I’m glad you like it,” Felix said, watching with amusement as she flitted about like an effervescent butterfly. She had seemed to sparkle with joy from the moment he had seen her walking down the aisle towards him and, despite his apparent nonchalance, he was feeling a little overwhelmed by the good fortune with which he’d been blessed.

He'd known from the start she would be trouble, and he knew he’d been correct about that without a shadow of doubt. He didn’t care. The realisation no longer scared him. It was the kind of trouble he thrived on; driven by ambition and the desire to change things for the better, to do something with life, with the world. Felix recognised it in her because it burned in him too, but the world was not so kind to women with that kind of drive. He would be, though. He would protect her when she needed it and help her fly as high as she dared, and he didn’t care what anyone else thought of that, so long as the two of them were happy.

She ran to the window and gazed down at the street far below and Felix crossed the room, impatient now. He bent, kissing the elegant arc of her neck and shoulders, painting a delicate pattern with his tongue that made her shiver.

Belinda sighed, leaning back against him and Felix closed his eyes at the sensation of her soft curves pressing against his body. What a damned fool he’d been the first time he’d kissed her, to tell her it was a mistake. He should have accepted her proposal the moment she’d given it, brave girl that she was. Still, better late than never.

“I’m glad everything happened in such a rush,” he told her, his voice low. “And I’m sorry I didn’t run away with you the moment you asked me to marry you.”

“That was very silly of you,” she agreed, turning in his arms. Her lovely eyes gazed up at him and he knew he could look into that fathomless blue for the rest of his days and never tire of it. “But I’m glad now. For Papa has accepted things and Doris and Charlie are getting married next month too, and everything is just p-perfect.”

She gave a little hiccough and pressed her fingers to her mouth.

“Pardon me.”

Felix gave her a stern look. “Should I order coffee?”

“No!” she exclaimed, extricating herself from his arms. She ran to the bed and kicked off her shoes. They flew across the room in opposite directions as she gave a whoop of laughter.

He watched, a stupid grin plastered to his face as she clambered onto the high mattress, skirts rucked up, and almost falling on her face as they tangled about her legs.

“I’m Lady Belinda Knight!” she exclaimed, bouncing up and down on the bed as her skirts billowed around her.

“You’re foxed,” he told her frankly.

“No, just a trifle disguised,” she said in a ridiculously sombre voice, and then fell backwards, arms and legs akimbo.

Felix sauntered over, his heart full of burgeoning emotion for this ridiculous, daring girl who had crashed into his life and changed everything. He gazed down at her, smiling as she reached her arms up to him.

“I’m Lady Belinda Knight,” she said, softly this time, a little shyly as her eyes gleamed with happiness.

“Well, not quite yet,” he told her with a smile. “But I am about to remedy that.”

“Yes, please, Felix,” she said with a sigh. “Make it so it can’t be undone.”

Felix reached for her foot and clasped her ankle, running a finger down her instep.

She squealed and kicked but he held her fast. “Ah, ticklish. I shall remember that later,” he told her, before grasping her hands and pulling her back to her feet.

“Turn around, you saucy minx. I must undo this lovely dress before I can do anything else.”

She laughed and fidgeted as he undid an endless parade of buttons and ties, looking over her shoulder and giving him advice he really didn’t need but pretended to follow.

“Stop squirming,” he scolded as she tried once more to look at what he was doing. “There!”

Her corset fell to the floor, and she stepped out of it and then, before he could reach for her, climbed back onto the bed. Her chemise fluttered as she moved, giving him a tantalising glimpse of bare thigh and stocking tops that made his mouth go dry.

“Well, hurry up!” she admonished, flapping her hands at him.

Felix returned an innocent expression. “What?”

“Oh, don’t be dim, you wretched man. You know very well I want you to take your clothes off. Hurry!”

Felix laughed, delighted by her bossiness when he had feared she might be nervous, or even afraid. What a fool to think his headstrong wife might be anything less than brave and bold.

Still, he took his time, not beyond revelling in the heat of her regard, loving the way her eyes grew dark, and her cheeks flushed as he revealed himself to her.

“Oh, Felix, you are beautiful,” she said with a sigh, words which suddenly meant something deeper to him.

He’d been told he was handsome often enough, and knew that women desired him, but to hear it from his wife, to see the admiration in her eyes, was something entirely different, something that made him feel privileged beyond anything he had ever known. She made him feel himself, made him feel as if he was not a lesser reflection of his father’s greatness but a success in his own right. When she looked at him with such esteem, he knew he must be worthy, for no one but a great man could possibly win such a prize as her.

He moved closer to the bed, holding still as her hands ran over his shoulders and chest.

“Such broad shoulders,” she murmured dreamily, her hands sliding down his arms. “Such powerful arms.”

“All the better to hold you with,” he murmured, nipping at her ear.

Belinda laughed, recognising the words of the fairy story. “Are you going to eat me up?” she asked, laughing, but her laughter died with a hitch of her breath as he replied seriously.

“I am.”

He pushed her gently back onto the bed and climbed over her, returning his hands to her ankles and sliding his palms up over the silken stockings to the even silkier skin of her thighs.

“I am the luckiest of men,” he said, his voice low, speaking as much to himself as to her as desire burned inside him, so hot he wondered how he could stand it and not frighten her. But Belinda was watching him, totally unafraid, and he knew she would never be shy, never be scared to ask for what she wanted, or to tell him no.

“I am the luckiest of women,” she countered, her gaze roving over him.

Felix groaned and reached for the hem of her chemise, tugging it up and casting it aside as his patience frayed. He lay down, his skin touching hers for the first time and the sensation was all-consuming, the closest thing to perfection he had ever known.

His mouth met hers, soft, tender presses of his lips upon hers to encourage her to respond, which she did with alacrity. Her body coiled around him, new and unexplored yet strangely familiar as they found they fit together with ease.

Felix deepened the kisses, drawing her on with him though his touch was still languid, his hands moving slowly, easing her into intimacy as carefully as he could.

“Did I tell you how beautiful you are?” he murmured against her skin.

“A dozen times,” she said on a breathy sigh. “But you can say it a dozen more.”

“I shall,” he promised. “I shall not stop telling you because you are, you take my breath away.”

“Lovely,” she said, and he heard the smile behind the words.

Felix lifted his head, gazing down at her and finding himself smiling like an idiot again. He thought it was an expression he’d best resign himself to wearing for some time to come.

“I take it you know what happens in the marriage bed, as you’re so keen to publish information on the subject?”

“Of course,” she said with a laugh. “Doris has opened my eyes upon several subjects. I can’t wait to try them out,” she added with a mischievous smile.

Felix’s eyebrows rose. “Do you mean to tell me you have expectations of what is to come?”

“Oh, yes, indeed. Lots of them.”

“Heavens,” he said with mock consternation.

“Don’t worry, my darling. I won’t be filing a report,” she said, smothering a laugh against his shoulder as he tickled her in punishment.

“Stop! Stop,” she said breathlessly.

“Stop?” he repeated, gazing down at her.

“No. Don’t ever stop,” she amended, pulling him back down to her.

Belinda was giddy with delight, with happiness and anticipation, and the dizzying excitement of her husband’s hot skin against hers. His hands cupped her breasts, his clever fingers teasing shivers from her. He kneaded gently, his thumbs circling her nipples until they were taut and aching, and then he ducked his head.

Belinda gasped, sinking her hands into his hair as his mouth closed over her, hot and wet. Felix moved down the bed, trailing kisses down her torso, down her stomach. She sucked in a breath as his warm hands rested on her hips and he nuzzled against the tender flesh at the apex of her thighs. He pressed kisses along the crease, then trailed his tongue along the same path until she was trembling with desire and tortuous expectancy. If Doris hadn’t warned her so candidly, it might have been shocking, but now she was only delighted.

He glanced up at her, searching for her consent. Belinda smiled at him and reached down, stroking his hair. She closed her eyes, holding her breath as he parted her curls and sought the sensitive nub of flesh hidden beneath with his tongue. Belinda jolted and gasped as sensation rocketed through her. He did it again, and she tilted her head back, hands grasping helplessly at the bedcovers.

Felix parted her further with his thumbs and licked again and again and Belinda felt dizzy, her blood fizzing in her veins as the exquisite pleasure rushed through her. She felt giddy and lightheaded with an overwhelming rush of sensation, as though she might float away if he wasn’t holding her down.

Felix lifted his head and smiled at her, and she sighed as his hands caressed and his lips returned to her skin, kissing a path over her body. No part of her was missed, from her eyelids to her toes, circling around the little triangle of curls now, deliberately teasing her by leaving that place untouched.

Belinda squirmed, restless with impatience as he trailed his tongue down the crease of first one thigh, then the other.

“Felix,” she said, his name plaintive and tinged with complaint.

“Mmm?” he asked, though she heard the laughter in his voice, the wicked devil.

“Please,” she said.

He raised his head, looking like butter wouldn’t melt. “Please what?” he asked, raising one eyebrow.

“Drat you, Felix, stop teasing. You’re a dreadful man and I—”

He pressed his mouth against hers and she felt rather than heard the laughter shake him before he moved back again. Shifting down on the bed, he took pity on her, doing just as she’d asked, and swept his tongue over her.

“Oh!” she said, arching beneath him, all the waiting and teasing having an incendiary effect upon her body. It was decadent and exquisite, a bone deep pleasure so tantalising it felt sinful and wicked.

“That what you wanted?” he asked, his voice husky, his green eyes swamped with darkened pupils, with wanting her.

“Yes,” she breathed. “Yes. Don’t stop.”

“As if I would,” he murmured, returning his attention to teasing and torturing her with his tongue. A finger caressed her too, now, circling and moving over her slick skin with a gentle slide, before dipping inside her.

Belinda was lost, too dazed with pleasure to care a fig for the noises that were torn from her, though she sounded wanton and abandoned and everything a proper young lady ought never to be.

Felix eased another finger inside her and at first it was uncomfortable, her body tensing, but he continued to caress her with his tongue and his clever fingers echoed the movement, moving faster as her breath hitched. An overpowering gathering sensation began tugging at the edges of her consciousness, pulling her faster towards the place she suddenly wanted desperately to reach.

Belinda held her breath, waiting for what came next, knowing it would be delicious and trusting in her husband to guide her there. Felix crooked his fingers a little, hitting a sensitive place deep inside her and she jolted and cried out as her body took over. The climax rushed at her from all sides as she clutched at the bedclothes, her body arching as Felix eased her through the waves, drawing out every last throb of pleasure until she was boneless and sated and quite beyond thought.

Belinda tried to focus, a little stunned to discover her body was still in one piece and had not been entirely rearranged by the explosive experience.

“Goodness,” she murmured.

Felix snorted, pausing to suckle at first one nipple and then the other as the throb between her legs began again in direct connexion to his attentions.

“Wickedness, more like,” he told her with a grin.

She smiled up at him, utterly relaxed, completely content to give herself over to him as he settled between her thighs, sliding his arousal against the pulsing, tender flesh.

Her breath hitched, knowing that this was the part that would join them together, physically, spiritually and legally, for all time. She opened her legs, raising her hips, as Felix groaned.

“I want to make this good for you, but… God in heaven, I want you so badly I can’t think straight,” he said with a tortured laugh.

“I want you too,” she told him, clutching at his shoulders, meaning it even as a tiny thread of anxiety tugged at her.

“I’ll try not to hurt you, but….”

Belinda hushed him. “I know. It’s all right. I understand.”

Belinda gasped as he nudged forward, belatedly realising that this part of his body was much larger than a finger. Slowly, he pressed forward, and she held her breath as her body burned and protested.

Felix stilled, a fine tremble running through his body.

“Try to relax, love,” he said, his voice sounding strained and a long way from relaxed, but Belinda took a deep breath, running her hands down his powerful back, relishing the heat of his skin, the sheer solidity and strength of the body that was loving hers with such tenderness. Little by little, her muscles unlocked, and Felix withdrew a little and then pressed forward again.

They continued that way, a slow, careful game of advance and retreat as her body became accustomed to him, until Felix surprised her by thrusting forward in one smooth movement. Belinda clutched at his shoulders as he stilled again, his breathing harsh and uneven.

“Did I hurt you?” he said asked, looking so anxious that Belinda forgot the pain in the light of his obvious guilt.

“Don’t stop, I’m fine,” she assured him, realising it was true as he did as she asked.

Belinda stared up, admiring the sight of her husband, his eyes closed in concentration, his handsome face taut with pleasure. Time seemed a vague concept now. Nothing mattered outside of this room, this bed, nothing except for this moment, this touch and the next, until she drew in a sharp breath, her attention refocusing upon the place where they joined. Belinda arched, exclaiming as he hit that tender spot he’d found with his fingers.

Oh my.

“Belinda?” he murmured, alert to the way she shifted beneath him.

“Yes,” she whispered as he moved faster, his skin heating further beneath her hand. “Yes,” she said again. “Don’t stop.”

Felix let out a breath of relief. “Thank God.”

Belinda closed her eyes, holding on tight as he moved faster, their breaths mingling, the soft sounds they made together growing louder as she wound herself about him, pulling him closer, deeper.

“Felix,” she said, her breath catching as he moaned against her skin.

“Oh, God, Belinda, I can’t… please….”

He groaned again, a harsh, guttural sound of pleasure as he shuddered, tremors rocking his body as Belinda gazed up at him in wonder, enraptured by his expression, by the dark sweep of his eyelashes as he closed his eyes. She had made him feel that. She had given him that glorious, rapturous pleasure. It was enough.

She gave a gasp of wonder, of delight, following him into the glittering climax, going with him boldly and confidently, knowing she could do everything, have everything she had ever dreamed of now, with this man at her side.