Page 81 of The Duke's Rules Of Engagement
And then he began to move in earnest, not careful as he’d been throughout their previous encounter, but with long, hard strokes that drove her straight up a peak of pleasure she hadn’t known was possible to achieve. And when she’d almost reached the top, it was as if he knew that she was nearly there. He brought his thumb between them to rub at the area right above where they had joined. It took only a moment before she toppled over, bucking beneath him, her nails scratching over his back as she cried out his name and pleasure broke through her in massive, all-consuming waves.
He slowed his movements as the waves receded and her body grew sensitive and languid. He kissed her again, gently this time.
“You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he whispered against her mouth.
There it was—that word again. She thought with satisfaction that she could grow used to this. All of it. His sweet kisses, his loving words, his body lodged so sinfully and decadently inside hers.
He began to move again, starting slowly, and then deeper and harder and faster, until—impossibly—she started to climb to that pinnacle once more.
He brought her over one more time right before he reached his own release, and they shook in each other’s arms—him spilling on her thigh this time as her body shuddered against him.
They held each other, a hot, wet, tight unit for several minutes. Matthew’s head sank into her hair and her cheek pressed tightly against his chest. Finally, regretfully, she began to pull back. The dull ache between her legs had deepened. Lord, she hoped she would be able to walk normally.
He kissed the top of her head. “Wait. Let me clean you up, sweetheart.”
Acquiescing, she lay still while he dampened a towel and wiped her down. “You’re bleeding again,” he said as he gently wiped between her legs. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, I’m fine.” Shewasfine, actually. Terribly sore but the wonderful feeling that suffused her overrode it.
He looked up at her. “Are you telling me the truth?”
She smoothed the line between his brows with her thumb. “Yes.”
He finished cleaning her, then pulled on his trousers and guided her up and out of the bed. He helped her dress as if she were a child, tightening her stays and buttoning her up. Then, he combed her hair but declared himself inept when it came to pinning it up.
Jo laughed. “Fortunately, I’m fairly skilled at performing this step myself.”
He picked up her pins from the floor as she twisted her hair into the same style she’d worn earlier.
This scene, after an encounter like what Jo and Matthew had just experienced, might, with two different people, feel awkward, but Jo felt comfortable and relaxed, and she could tell Matthew did, too. It was strange exactlyhowcomfortable it felt. How natural. Howright.
She looked into the mirror in Matthew’s dressing room. She didn’t look too awful, considering what had transpired between them. If she didn’t know any better, she wouldn’t notice the difference between the Jo of two hours ago and the completely changed—and thoroughly bedded—Jo of right now.
She smiled up at Matthew as he came behind her, his hands slipping around her waist and his chin resting on her shoulder. They stared at their image in the mirror for a moment. They looked like a couple. A very happy one.
But theyweren’ta couple. She sighed, not knowing how to start the conversation she knew they needed to have. Now would be the best time to have it, here, when they were alone and without the risk of anyone overhearing.
She stood, turned around in his embrace, and wrapped her arms around him. “Matthew…”
He stroked one of the strands of hair that framed her face. He really did seem fascinated by her hair. “What is it?”
She drew in a deep and long fortifying beath. “This can’t happen again.”
He stilled, and when she looked up at him, his eyes were closed. He drew her tighter against him. “Why?”
“You know why.”
Another long pause. Then, “I know you’re right. I do. But…”
He hesitated again, and all sorts of continuations to that “but” ran through her mind only to be censored immediately.
She held him even tighter, if that was possible. “You said you wanted to be married by the time Parliament recessed for the summer.”
“Yes.” The word emerged heavy and hard, like it had taken his entire will to push it out.
“I have been a distraction from your goals,” she said. And he had definitely been a distraction from hers. “But it is time for you to move on with your life.”
He sighed.
