Page 101 of Wedded to the Cruel Duke

She rode him wildly, with fierce abandon, exulting in the pleasure she was giving him and taking for herself. When she gasped, he took the opportunity to flip her over until she was the only one lying on the bed again.

But Phoebe did not care—all that mattered to him was this complete and utter melding of their souls, so much so that she did not know where she ended and where he began.

Charles snapped his hips into hers several more times, until they both finally came apart—her with a great, keening cry, and him, a roar of triumphant release. Warmth spread into her lower belly as he leaned his forehead against her own sweat-lined brow, laughing hoarsely as he pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

“You have bewitched me long enough, my beautiful wife,” he told her. “I am afraid that wetrulyshould be heading off to bathe now.”

Phoebe looked at him and pouted coquettishly. “But what if I want to just stay here?”

His eyes darkened and she felt him hardening again inside her.

“Then, I am afraid that we will have to apologize to your family for being such awful hosts,” he said simply. “After all, your every wish is my desire.”

Phoebe let out a giggle as he dove into her, assaulting her with kisses. Her arms came around him once more.

It was a long, long time before they ever made it to the bath.

The End?