Becoming Countess Dumont (12 page)

A tear rolls out as his words cut open my heart and insert themselves inside. It is my hope that his words are true and honest, because I so desperately want to believe in them.

“This feels right, Alexander,” I whimper as his thrusts become harder. “How were we so lucky? Two people lost in a world only to find solace and companionship in someone just as fractured as they are. I think destiny has played a hand in our union.”

My words are stolen from me as I feel the delicious beginnings of an orgasm. Then it clutches my abdomen and explodes throughout my body. I buck up from the bed as I lose myself to it. Nothing exists in our world but him and me.

“My love,” he groans as he bursts his own hot climax into me.

His thrusting slows to a halt, and he lifts slightly to regard me with sexually satisfied eyes. But behind the satisfaction lies something else. An emotion I feel with every ounce of my being.

Dare I say that the emotion is love? I want to ask him but I don’t dare sever the moment of our blissful union. I’ve had many lovers in my lifetime, but nothing compares to the way Alexander encompasses me fully.

He’s my ending. My happy ending.

I—Edith, the horrid home-wrecker—have somehow found myself with luck and captured the beautiful man before her.

“Is it unusual that I find myself wanting to remain locked within you, only staring into your eyes for the rest of the night? Does it make me a perverted fool to want to keep my cock seated inside you even as it relaxes?” he questions with a grin that does me in every time.

“We must be unusual birds, the only two in our flock, because I don’t find it perverse at all. In fact, I find it highly arousing. My body tingles at the prospect of you sleeping with me tucked beneath you. I feel quite safe and protected in your arms.”

He dips down and places a kiss on my nose. “I’ll always protect you, Edith. We may have begun this marriage as a sham, but there is nothing false about my feelings for you. Tomorrow, I hope that you have the most breathtaking reception for our wedding, because you do, indeed, deserve that. Allow my mother to spoil you as I know she will. And then I shall spend the rest of my life spoiling you as I wish. You’re mine to cherish, my precious jewel.”

Thoughts of his mother once again bring tears to my eyes. “Are you sure Ma is going to be all right? I’m sick with worry about her.”

His stare becomes firm as he looks me over. “Darling, she will be more than okay. I promise. Nothing is going to happen to her. Mother is as tough as they come. She’s the paste that holds this broken family together. Without her, my father and brother and I would have parted ways long ago. We stay, though, because of her.”

My eyes flutter shut when his lips find mine again, and he kisses me as if to solidify his promise with it. I cling to it, because once again, I hope that his words are true and I can trust in them.

If Alexander ever becomes bored of me like his past lovers, I’ll die. Plain and simple.

“I can feel myself growing hard inside you. How is it that I’m already eager to make more of this love with you? Under normal circumstances, my body requires rest. Alone. But now, I want to take you again and then I want to rest with you in my arms, dear. You’ve bewitched me, I believe. However, I’m your willing victim.”

I giggle as he begins thrusting at an agonizingly slow pace within me. “Husband, you best be hastening your speed. Because, if you keep it up with your teasing, you’ll be a victim for sure—a victim of having been smothered by a pillow.”

He slams himself into me hard enough to make me scream his name again. “So my sweet wife loves the slow but she also loves the hasty fucking as well? Am I right, love?”

My words are garbled as he takes me roughly. He’s right. I’ll take him any way and at the moment, I’m quite content at the way he owns my body.

When I don’t answer him, his mouth finds my earlobe and he nips at it with his teeth.

“Yes, Alexander. I like it when your lovemaking is turbulent as well. Take me hard,” I instruct as my nails dig into his shoulders.

The moan that rings out into the room is almost embarrassing when he forcefully sucks my neck into his mouth.

“I’m going to impregnate you with my children,” he announces unexpectedly.

I’m too far into the throes of passion to do anything other than nod emphatically. “Yes,” I agree and then give in to another all-consuming orgasm.

The thought of becoming a mother has always been a dream of mine. But hearing it aloud that he, my husband, wants me to be pregnant with his child washes through me, and I’m cloaked in the joy of his proclamation.

He grunts and unloads more of his seed into me. As he settles and relaxes, he once again makes no moves to sever our physical connection. Unlike my lovers in the past, he slides his arms beneath me and hugs me tight. My hands slip into his hair and I hold him to me.

“Don’t ever let me go,” I murmur as I begin to drift to sleep.

His voice is thick with sleepiness but firm. “I’ll never let you go. It isn’t an option. You’re mine until the end, Edith Dumont.”

THE SUN HASN’T RISEN YET,
but I’m awake. And watching her. After last night, I’m completely enthralled with the way she’s managed to seize my heart. If someone had told me a couple of days ago that I’d be falling for the vixen of a woman with whom I started this journey, I’d have laughed.

But now?

Now, I can’t take my eyes from her. It satisfies me to watch her breaths softly come out and see the tiny smile that twitches at her lips from time to time. I’m not sure what’s made me this way—so eager to devour every detail that is her.

At some point in the middle of the night, she must have removed the pins from her hair, because now, it lies wild and unruly beneath her. The desire to tangle my fingers in it as I make love to her is strong.

What is it about this woman that draws me in so?

“Mmm,” she whimpers in her sleep.

The sound sends swirls of want directly to my cock and it thickens in response. During the night, we made love countless times, yet now, I still crave to be inside her. The woman has simply infected my brain, and I can’t say that I’m complaining one bit.

Sitting up on my elbow, I drag a finger across her bare breast and circle the nipple in a soft manner that doesn’t wake her. Her body must be exhausted from our exertions. I take pause with my movements and wonder if I can stay true to her and not sleep with other women. I know I’ve promised her this, but it seems against the very fabric of who I am.

Her lips pucker into the cutest of pouts. It’s as if she’s clued in to my very thoughts. And as the craving to kiss her threatens to rip me in two, I know. There’s no way I’ll ever want another like I want her.

That is simply fact.

It’s guaranteed that I won’t let another man even so much as look at her—especially Alcott. It will be a man’s death wish if he is to gaze upon what’s mine.

I would kill a man for this woman.

That is also fact.

My feelings for her are overwhelming to me and they grow stronger by the second. Dear God, I hope she feels the same way for me.

“Alexander,” she murmurs as she turns toward me.

I expect to see her big, brown eyes, but she’s still sleeping. An alpha response to the knowledge of the fact that she dreams of me too possesses me, and I nearly growl in satisfaction.

My hand finds her hip and I glide my thumb across the bone. Soon, I hope to see her fatten up with pregnancy. I want the evidence of our love all over her body, especially in the form of a largely swollen belly.

Do I love her?

I think that, on some level, I already have for the past six months. It’s as if I always knew deep down that it would come down to this—our being inseparable. And that’s how it will be because I don’t want her to leave my side. In fact, if I had it my way, we’d stay in this bed forever.

“I believe I love you, dear Edith,” I whisper so soft that she can’t hear.

But in her slumber, I ascertain that she does hear, because her lips twitch again in that smile I’ve grown to adore.

My cock begs for me to wake her up, but I don’t want to. I want to freeze the moment at hand and bottle it up for eternity. This must be the wedded bliss Jasper of which speaks so fondly.

I’m lost in my thoughts when a petite hand grips my cock. When my eyes fly to her face, I find her grinning at me. She blinks slowly, as if to rid herself of her sleep, and I have a new favorite moment—watching her wake up.

God, she’s so beautiful.

“Good morning, dear wife.” I dip down and kiss her lips with a peck before lifting back up so I can look at her.

“Is it morning already?” she questions in confusion but never stops the fisting of my cock.

“Indeed, it is. In fact, the sun shall rise soon.”

At my words, she jerks up into a sitting position. “Damn! I promised your mother I’d meet her for breakfast before daybreak,” she shrieks.

She’s about to spring from the bed, but I grab her arm and haul her to me. Her legs instinctively straddle my hips, and the worry melts away. Something else takes its place.

“Someone is quite awake and frisky this morning,” she giggles as she rocks her hips, causing her pussy to rub against my cock.

“Woman, if you have any desire to meet my mother today, I suggest you stop your teasing and fuck me,” I growl.

Her eyes narrow as if she has something up her sleeve and my eyebrow raises in question.

“You want me to fuck you, hmm?” she purrs.

Everything about that sentence drives me to the brink of insanity. I need to be inside her nearly as badly I need to breathe.

“Can a countess properly fuck an earl, or will it always be the other way around?” I taunt.

She throws me a sexy wink before grabbing my cock. I watch with hunger as she aligns herself with me and sinks down onto my length. It feels borderline sinful to have her sitting on me, me deep inside her. Her breasts are on full display, and I gaze at them in awe.

“What do you call this?” she questions as she begins circling her hips in a teasing pattern that makes my cock throb.

I’m at a loss for words when she tosses her head back and cups her own breasts. With each rhythmic rocking of her hips, I feel myself about to come.

“Mmm,” she moans as she rides me as if I’m her favorite horse.

“Countess, you fuck like a goddess. You make me insane for you. It is through my own carnal thoughts that I assume I’m the one who owns you as my wife, yet as you perform your magic on me, I swear you’re the one who owns me.”

I am useless as she fucks me into oblivion, so I slip my thumb between her thighs and stroke her clitoris, which I find beneath her thatch of dark hair. It is warm, throbbing as if it requires my touch. The very idea that her body responds to mine ignites the selfish desire to possess her, and I once again take over the reins of ownership as I pleasure her.

“Yes!” she cries out.

Her body shudders as she clenched around my cock, and it causes me to explode inside her. Then we both groan out in unison as we come together. When the high of our bliss finally subsides, I grab her biceps and tug her to me. I want her plastered against my chest.

“Stay,” I beg as I stroke her hair.

When she sighs, I know she wants to. “I can’t. I already promised Ma. The rest of the day, though, can be about us. If you want to stay in here, we’ll stay in here. If you want to go for a walk or have lunch by the river, I’m certainly happy with that idea as well. I’m yours after breakfast.”

Her lips find mine and she kisses me as if she wants to assure me she isn’t going to be gone for long.

“You’re mine always,” I grumble once she breaks away.

She rolls her eyes as she climbs off me. I see a flash of her pussy as it drips with my release, and I’m half tempted to drive myself back into her.

“You’re such a man,” she says in faux annoyance.

I sit up on my elbow and watch as she saunters toward the washroom, her arse jiggling slightly with each step. “A man you love,” I chuckle.

She flicks her gaze over to me, and her cheeks turn red. Then she bolts into the washroom and closes the door behind her.