Page 82 of The Viscount's Silent Pugilist

She closed her eyes. “Jonathan,” she murmured between kisses as she ground her pelvis against his.

“I want you to look into my eyes while I’m inside you,” he said.

Those blue irises met his. So trusting. So loving. This was perfection. “So beautiful,” he murmured into her ear. “So perfectly blue.” Like the sky. The ocean. Sapphires…

She slid her hand between their bodies, wrapping her palm around his girth. “You are throbbing,” she whispered, her eyes and voice both filled with awe.

He slid his finger inside her, luxuriating in the tight tug of her pulsing walls pulling him deeper. “So are you, my darling Blue.”

She closed her eyes and moaned.

“Genevieve, look at me,” he demanded.

Her eyes opened, her gaze burning so hot, she fused her soul to his. Branded hers. forever.

“I love you, Genevieve.” He pressed his cock against her entrance.

“I love you, too.” Her gaze glued to his, she surrendered to him, welcoming him into her sweet heat.

Taking cues from her inviting cunny, Jonathan entered her little by little, until he was embedded deep inside her. She wrapped her heels around his hips and clung to him. Add flexibility to her list of attributes. He clutched her hips, then slowly pumped in and out of her.

Pleasure rolled over him so hard and fast that he had to halt his movements and slow his breathing or he would spend much too quickly. He withdrew until just the tip of his rod was inside her, resting his forehead against hers.

“Give me a moment,” he implored. Concentrating on their mingling breaths, he slowed his galloping need. Once he was composed, he fully embedded himself.

Attempting to slow himself down had been pointless. After just a few thrusts—each accompanied by one of her bollock-tingling moans—he was driving her body into the mattress asshe raked her fingernails down his back, the sting from her nails a delicious torture. Although their kisses remained gentle, their hips crashed violently.

The tension within him coiled until the muscles surrounding his pelvis were involuntarily and uncontrollably contracting.

“Harder,” she begged as her fingertips dug into his nape.

He might be a dolt about a lot, but he knew when a woman was experiencing pleasure and about to explode. His gal was so damn close.

“That’s it, darling.” With a feral growl, he nipped her earlobe. “Come for me.”

“Oh, Jonathan,” she cried as her walls convulsed around him.

His toes curled and his fists clenched. It took all of his discipline to withdraw. His entire core contracted so hard he hissed. And then he soared.

It was a few moments before he had the wherewithal to grab the corner of the counterpane and wipe her belly clean. He collapsed onto the mattress and pulled her close. Nuzzling her neck, he inhaled her musky, floral scent.

“Mmm,” he murmured as he smiled. This might be the happiest he’d ever been in his very joyful, privileged life.

“I watched my father murder my mother,” she said out of nowhere.

So much for Jonathan’s euphoric bliss. He sat up so quickly that his head spun.

Genevieve looked up at him, her eyes wide, her palm covering her mouth.

Shaking his head, he removed her hand. “No, Gen. I am going to be your husband, so ’tis time you confide in me. When did your father kill your mother?”

When she didn’t answer, he lay down and pulled her back to his torso. He couldn’t see her face. Still, he cradled her protectively. “I can lay here all night holding you, becauseneither of us is going anywhere until you tell me the truth of who you are and what happened to you.”

They remained silently curled together for a long time. Finally, she rolled over to face him. She swallowed, then spoke, her voice like a faraway whisper in a volatile storm. “My father is Arthur Bailey, the second son of the sixth Earl of Shipley. When I was about ten years old, he barged into my mother’s chamber and accused her of having an affair with my uncle, the current Earl of Shipley.”

Jonathan schooled his wince. After hearing from Robinson and speaking with his mother, it was not her identity that had shocked him, but her circumstances. That she’d witnessed one parent murder the other had never crossed his mind. He had the urge to ask her if her father had been cuckolded by his older brother, but Gen probably didn’t know the truth. Besides, the affair was not the point. She’d witnessed her mother’s murder.Christ almighty.

Jonathan rested his cheek on hers so that he could clearly make out her quivering voice.