Page 69 of How To Tempt A Bodyguard

Through the haze, she felt him buck beneath her. Once, twice, then freeze.

"Christ, I can't."

"Now." She ground down on him, clenching tight. "Come now."

He shattered.

His entire body contracted—every muscle, every tendon, seizing at once. A sound ripped from his chest, raw and broken, and he buried his face between her breasts to muffle it. His hips jerked up into her, spilling hot and deep, his rod pulsing with each wave.

She held him through it. Felt every shudder, every tremor, every helpless spasm. His arms wrapped around her waist, crushing her against him, his breath hot and ragged against her skin.

When the tremors finally subsided, he collapsed back onto the hay. His arms stayed locked around her, keeping her pressed against him.

For a long moment, the only sound was their mingled breathing and the soft whicker of the horse in the corner.

"Christ." His voice was hoarse. Utterly destroyed.

She lifted her head to look at him. His eyes were closed, his face slack, his lips curved in the corners.

"I taught you to suck cock. I didn't teach you to…" He shook his head. "That was something else entirely."

She traced a finger along his collarbone. "Did you like it?"

"Like it." He laughed. A breathless, incredulous sound. "Holding back while you rode me like that—" He shuddered at the memory.

She turned her head and kissed his throat.

"Florence." His voice was quiet now. Almost hesitant.

"Hm?"

A pause. She felt his chest rise and fall beneath her. Felt the words hovering, unspoken.

"Nothing." He opened his eyes and smiled. "Just... nothing. Rest now."

Nudging her aside, he stood.

Florence lay in the hay, watching him button his trousers, shrug his shirt back over his shoulders. His movements were efficient. Practiced. The body of a man already returning to duty.

A moment ago, he'd been shaking beneath her. Burying his face in her breasts to muffle his cries. Coming apart so completely she'd felt the tremors in her own bones.

Now he was checking the gaps in the barn walls. Scanning the darkness beyond. His face had shuttered again, the hard mask of the bodyguard, the prize fighter, the man who trusted no one.

She pulled her skirts down and sat up, brushing hay from her hair.

"You should sleep," he said without looking at her. "I'll keep watch."

"You need rest too."

"I've had worse nights."

She didn't doubt it. But that wasn't the point.

"Matthew."

He moved towards the east wall, his back to her. "I'll wake you before dawn."

The dismissal was gentle but unmistakable.