Page 20 of Surrender Your Grace (Impromptu Brides #1)

Andrew woke in his own bed, still fully dressed, a soft, familiar weight nestled beside him.

Memory rushed back, and he groaned. Damn. He was a poor excuse for a husband. He’d meant to lie down for just a moment. The soft mattress, fresh linens, and blessed quiet had overtaken him. She must have waited and waited then finally come to him.

He turned onto his side and watched her sleep. Flawless skin, gold gilded lashes fanning her cheeks, the inviting curve of her lips that made his mouth ache to taste her. The longer he looked, the more certain he was: Cici’s beauty far eclipsed her sister’s, a so-called “incomparable.”

Her curves, her coloring—none of it fashionable. But he preferred her. Every part of her.

Green eyes fluttered open, hazy with sleep. “What time is it?” she murmured, her voice huskier than usually, making his body stir.

“Still early,” he said, looping an arm around her waist and pulling her close. “We’ve got time.”

She nestled against his chest as he buried his face in her hair.

“Why did we stop sharing a bed?” he asked, inhaling her scent, lilacs and vanilla, as he nuzzled her neck.

“Your schedule,” she replied, her voice catching. “You didn’t want to disturb me—or so you said.”

“I was a fool.” He pressed against her, his arousal firm against her belly, his lips finding the edge of her jaw. “The rewards far outweigh the inconvenience.”

“I agree,” she whispered, flushed and breathless, angling her head and exposing her throat.

He couldn’t resist and dragged his tongue over her fluttering pulse. “Last night, I intended to take my time,” he growled. “This morning, I have no patience.”

He shoved her nightgown up to her waist. “This must go.”

She lifted her arms without protest, and he whisked the soft gown over her head, pausing to take her in as her hair tumbled free, the red waves spilling over her bare shoulders and full breasts. Simply exquisite.

Her eyes sparked with desire as her fingers found the buttons of his shirt. When they were both bare, he resumed his kisses—hungry, consuming—his hands mapping every silken hill and hollow. He nudged her thighs apart, and she welcomed him between them.

“I must have you now, Cici. We can go slow another time.”

“I don’t want slow,” she said, her voice ragged. “I want you inside me. It’s been much too long.”

He groaned as he entered her, the tight heat of her body robbing him of breath. His control slipped as her sheath clenched around him. He found the pearl of her pleasure and circled it, drawing a gasp from her lips. As she arched to meet his thrusts, her nails bit into his shoulders.

She spiraled higher. Bending, he sipped one tight bud into his mouth, and that was all it took. She cried out his name, body clenching tight around him as she shattered.

The sound, the feel, the rush—he couldn’t hold back. He groaned her name, spilling into her as waves of pleasure rolled through him. Their bodies trembled in the aftermath, tangled together, breathless.

He kissed her once more then rolled to his side, her face tucked beneath his chin as they held each other in perfect silence.

It didn’t last. He could already hear the house stirring.

“We’ve got maybe five minutes before Tibbs and Mary come knocking,” he murmured.

“Can’t we stay in bed until noon—like at Arendale?”

“This isn’t West Sussex, I’m afraid. Things move faster in London.” He sighed. “And I’m due at Parliament at ten for a vote I cannot miss.”

He slipped from bed, tugging on his shirt. When he turned back, he caught her propped on her elbows watching him. Amused, he didn’t comment, just quirked a brow.

Her blush crept to her hairline as she flopped onto the pillows. “Everyone gets a piece of you but me. I’m always last!”

He returned to the bed and braced himself over her hips. “I gave you a piece of me just a few short minutes ago. Was it that forgettable?”

“Good heavens, Andrew. The things you say!”

“Answer the question, sweeting.”

She huffed. “I think the noises I made were quite clear on that point.”

“Then stop grumbling,” he teased, leaning down until their lips nearly touched. “We’ll have an encore performance tonight.”

“You think you’ve earned an encore. Feeling mighty full of yourself this morning.”

He grinned, unable to help it. “You were the one full of me, sweeting. I’ll defer to your judgment.”

She covered her face with a groan. “Gallantry is indeed dead—and so are your manners, Your Grace .”

He clicked his tongue. “We’re not doing that again. Unless you’re angling for—”

Her hands flew behind her so fast, she clipped his chin. “No, Andrew ”—she deliberately drew out his name—“I am not!”

He chuckled, sliding his hand down to cup one warm bottom cheek. “You’re getting exceptionally sassy. Might be time for an encore of a different sort.”

“You wouldn’t?” she gasped, though her smile betrayed her.

“You’ve asked that before,” he murmured, “and you know the answer.”

A knock sounded on the door.

“Saved by the butler. For now.” He kissed her—hard and fast. On the way to his dressing room, he promised, “We’ll continue this discussion tonight.”

He heard her say, grumbling again, “That seems unnecessary.”

He laughed, starting the morning in a better mood than he had in a long time.