Page 53 of The Reckless Love of an Heir (The Marlow Family Secrets #4)

‘Ah,’ Henry sighed as he breathed in Susan’s scent, pressing his forehead against her soft stomach as she stood before him naked while he knelt on the floor in front of her.

He had not let her call for a maid but disrobed her in the sitting room, and now her clothes, and his, lay scattered across the floor and he was on his knees before her, holding on to her, just holding on.

He kissed above her hairline, then kissed her hip, then kissed the juncture between her thighs and reached his tongue between her closed legs.

She moved and stood with her legs slightly apart, allowing him greater access as her fingers played in his hair.

His forefingers and thumbs pressed into the first curve of her buttocks as he sucked her sensitive spot and licked the silkiest flesh.

He was lost in what he did, lost in her. Utterly absorbed. She was beautiful, and so precious to him. He used his fingers, then licked his fingers, then used them again as she sighed and rocked against his invasion.

Love .

He had thought he loved her weeks ago. But now… Now, his love ran as deep as a gold mine.

He stood up and kissed her mouth, his fingers cupping her bottom and holding her against his erection. Then he gripped her hand and led her to stand before the fire. It was not alight, but there was a rug there.

He moved behind her, brushed her hair over her shoulder, out of the way, and sucked the skin on the back of her neck gently as he held her hips and her bottom against his erection. Her head dropped forward. She looked drunk with desire for him. That was the strongest aphrodisiac.

‘Kneel,’ he whispered in her ear.

She obeyed, and he knelt too.

‘On all fours,’ he ordered. Perhaps it was a matter of needing to be in control, but for whatever reason, this was the way he wanted it, and he wanted it this way with Susan.

She leaned onto her hands.

His hands ran over the curves of her bottom and her legs, then up along her back to her neck – that beautiful curve. His hand held her there as he slid into her.

‘Oh.’ It was a sound of surprise that left her lips. Perhaps she had not realised what he intended.

He moved slowly and steadily. She was hot, wet and so welcoming. She was everything he needed.

‘Oh.’ Another sound, a breathy note of pleasure, escaped her throat.

He knew how to move to the greatest effect. He knew how to heighten her pleasure. He knew how to make her climax in a moment.

He withdrew and then only half penetrated her, moving quickly, caressing her most sensitive points.

Her breath became desperate panting. He plunged in deep and hard, then deep and hard again, and after three times he was rewarded with the success of her release.

He began again, he wanted more. He wanted control.

He wanted pleasure. To be lost for a long period in a world that became only the joy of pleasing Susan. This was his precious wife.

The clock in Henry’s sitting room chimed once. He sighed into the dark air. His skin had become cold. They had probably been lying on the floor in the moonlight for half an hour. Susan had fallen asleep, her head resting on his shoulder.

‘Susan.’ His finger stroked her cheek. ‘We need to get into bed.’

She nodded against his chest, half asleep.

He sat up, drawing her with him. Then stood and took her hand to help her rise. Once they were on their feet, he picked her up. Her fingers stroked across his cheek as her head fell against him, her hair brushing his naked chest.

She fell asleep once more as he carried her to the bedchamber.

‘Samson, off,’ he ordered the dog, who’d occupied their bed as they had occupied the sitting room.

As Samson jumped down, in the deerhound’s languid style of movement, Henry roused Susan again to get her beneath the covers, then walked around the bed and climbed in beside her.

He did not embrace her, he knew he was unlikely to sleep, so, it was fairer to let her lie undisturbed.

He lay on his back, looking up at the dark shadow of the canopy. The shutters were closed over the windows in here, but he’d left the sitting room door open so some of the moonlight shone through.

After dinner, as Percy, Stephen and Gerard left the room, Henry had stopped his father and pressed him to say why he thought it wise to tell Edward to go. Henry had received a barked rebuff, asking him why it was any of his business.

In the last few weeks it was as though their roles had reversed. Henry had stepped into the role of Father and Earl, while his father… Well, he did not know what the hell was wrong with him. No. That was a lie. Of course he knew what was wrong – it was grief.

The clock in the sitting room chimed twice.

Henry sat up. The same thoughts had been spinning about in his head for an hour. He got up, careful not to disturb Susan, left the room and shut the door.

His dressing gown lay over the back of a chair in there. He picked it up, slipped his arms into it, then wrapped it about his middle and tied the silk sash to secure it.

Their clothes were still strewn across the floor.

He picked them up, folded them and put them all on a chair.

Then he walked across to the side table by the chair they made love in last night.

There was a small drawer underneath it. He took a pack of cards from it, then sat down to play patience with himself as Samson watched him as though he thought Henry mad.

He was still playing when the clock chimed four times.

‘Henry… Do you never sleep?’

He looked up. Susan stood in the doorway from the bedroom, her arms clasped over her chest. She was wearing her ridiculous nightdress again, the one covering everything bar her hands, toes and head.

She looked beautiful.

‘I do not sleep much these days, no.’

She walked across the room, the fabric of her nightdress whispering against her legs as Samson rose and walked over to greet her. ‘Tell me what is keeping you awake, perhaps it will help. Is it to do with William? Is it something to do with the conversation you had with your father?’

He put down the remainder of the cards on the table, and pushed the table away. ‘I cannot tell you how grateful I am to hear you use William’s name. Papa will not say it. Come and sit with me.’ He patted his lap.

She sat sideways across his lap, with an arm reaching about his shoulders, as she drew her legs up, so even her toes disappeared within the white cotton.

He wrapped his arm about her bent knees and her back, to hold her steady, as Samson sat before the chair and rested his head on Henry’s knee and Susan’s covered feet.

‘Why does Uncle Robert not say William’s name?’

‘I think he is afraid of it… It is as though… Oh, I do not know. He has stopped living. He ignores us all, even Gerard and Stephen. He is locked away somewhere with no sight of life. I am worried and Edward was trying to make him see sense, but now Papa has told him to go away. I was angry with him over that. He told me it was none of my business. But Edward was helping me too. He was helping me manage the estate. When I told Papa, he said it was selfish of me to expect his help, because Edward had his own estate to manage…’

Susan trapped him within her arms. ‘You are not selfish. It is the last thing you are.’

His head fell back and he looked up. ‘Remember you have said so yourself, before, and I do not deny it.’

‘I know, but I was wrong, and you are wrong, and your father is wrong. Your loyalty to others has merely never been tested before. Uncle Robert will know that in his heart. He is just hurting, Henry. As you are.’

Hurting . Lord. Yes. I hurt.

Susan’s arms kept a tight hold about him .

‘I love you,’ he said.

‘I know. I know it in the way Samson knows it, even though you order us about sometimes.’

He laughed.

‘Why do you not speak to your mother in the morning? She must be worried about your father too.’

‘Because I do not wish to burden her.’

‘So you are being entirely unselfish and taking every burden on yourself. That is not a bad thing to do. But, Henry, you are grieving too. You need to speak to your parents. If you can never sleep you will make yourself ill. Form a plan with your mother to help your father.’

A dismissing sound left his lips as he shut his eyes, and breathed slowly, fighting the pain of the emotions gathering in his throat that threatened to choke him.