Page 22 of The Heir’s Return

“Yes. Please. Now. I want to feel you move inside of me.”

With a curse, Harry did precisely what Mina asked. It wasn’t long before he found a pounding rhythm that suited them both, quickly and relentlessly driving each of them toward a thundering release.

He chanted Mina’s name over and over, eventually growling against her kiss-swollen lips, “I cannot last much longer.”

Each slap of his pelvis against hers was striking just the right angle, so Mina wasn’t lying when she gasped, “Come with me, Harry.”

Three more punishing thrusts and they shattered together. Mina enfolded Harry in the cage of her limbs, her body milking every drop of pleasure from his as he roared his release, filling her with his hot seed.

Mina wondered if she briefly lost consciousness because the next thing she knew, she was draped across Harry’s prone body, her head tucked into the crook of his arm as she traced drowsy circles in the sweat-slicked whorls of golden hair on Harry’s chest. His heart thudded beneath her cheek, steady and strong.

“That was incredible,” Mina whispered.

Harry chuckled in response, and she couldn’t help but admire the muscles of his abdomen clenching as he did so. “Truly?”

She tilted her head and rested her chin on his chest so she could look up into his face. “Believe me when I say that I have never experienced anything like that. You nearly killed me.”

“You are trying to flatter me.”

“Since when have you known me to do such a thing?” she chastised. “Can you simply accept the compliment and look forward to the next time we can do that?”

His mouth quirked into a charmingly boyish smile. “Again?”

“You are mad if you believe I would experience such pleasure only once and be satisfied,” she said with a scoff.

“Good.” With surprisingly little effort, Harry maneuvered Mina so she straddled his hips. Already, he was growing hard again beneath her. “I echo that sentiment.”

CHAPTER 12

Mina stared at the pages in her hands until her eyesight began to blur and the candle burned to a sputtering nub. Despite how warm and comfortable she’d been curled against Harry’s side, the worry was too suffocating for her to sleep. She had spent every one of the past four nights in his arms. The releases she’d experienced beneath his eager hands and mouth had, for a time, made her languid and filled her with peace, but her mind had only granted her a brief reprieve before the dam holding back her anxieties was once again overrun.

Even though she hadn’t been the one who arranged the loans and allowed the leases to lapse, even though she hadn’t been the one to move the estate’s funds and allow payments to fall behind, she felt responsible. Harry should have been able to walk back into Ravenshire Manor to comfortable wealth and success. Instead, his reintroduction to the estate was through one of the most mortifying scenarios.

Logically, she knew it had been her father’s quill that caused the damage, but Mina still felt she was to blame.

She should have seen the signs of his slipping mind. She should have been around to care for him and make sure none of this happened. Instead, he’d married her off to remove her from danger.

In the months since her arrival and the days since Harry’s return, her father had seemed comfortable toiling away in the faux account books and sifting through old correspondence with amended dates. The woman hired to care for him under the guise of providing secretarial duties reported that he seemed happy and was taking his meals at regular intervals. He’d gained weight since Mina’s return, and she was pleased to hear that the trend had continued. It was a relief to her that she did not have to worry herself over his health as much as she had been.

What hadn’t happened was another meeting between Harry and her father. After that first disastrous one, Mina was not about to invite another. Picturing Harry’s pained expression when her father had referred to him as the old earl was torturous. Everything about who Harry was now and had always been reaffirmed that he was far from being anything like his sire. There was not a cold or aloof hair on his head.

“What are you doing awake, darling?”

Mina lifted her head at the sound of Harry’s voice, still heavy with sleep. Barefoot and shirtless, he’d donned only a pair of loose breeches to seek her out in the study. It was difficult not to become distracted by the leanly sculpted beauty of his body—a body she’d come to know intimately well.

“I like when you call me that.” Mina smiled and sat back in the chair, crossing her arms beneath her breasts. Her heart fluttered like a bird trapped in her chest whenever he looked at her like that.

“And I like waking up to find you in my bed.” Harry strode over to the desk. “I’ve become quite fond of it these last few days.”

Mina made a thoughtful sound and set aside the parchment she’d been holding when Harry came up behind her and draped his arms around her shoulders, pressing his lips to the top of her tousled head.

“As have I, but there is work to be done,” Mina said with a tired sigh.

“You have done so much already.”

“But it is not enough!” Mina snapped, then held onto Harry’s arms when he would have stepped away. “Apologies. I am tired and my nerves…”

He leaned forward and held her tightly, more a comfort than a restraint. “Then return to bed with me. It will keep until you take a few more hours of rest.”