Page 190 of A Very Bellamy Christmas

And it was glorious.

Stacia reveled in the hot, heavy feel of him and was disappointed when he began to pull away.

“I am crushing yo—”

She dug her fingers into the tight globes of his bottom and held him in place. Or at least, he allowed her to stop him from leaving.

His chest rumbled with laughter. His laugh was one of the things that she loved most about him. And his teasing sense of humor. And the way his eyes lit up when he was amused or delighted. And his—well, there was not much she did not love. And if he did not love her? Well, this right now, and the past nine days of companionship, joy, and affection were all far, far more than she had ever hoped for.

“I take it you want me to crush you?” he asked.

She squeezed his buttocks harder in answer.

Again, he chuckled. “This suits me to my toes,” he murmured, and then his manhood flexed inside her.

Stacia sucked in a breath. “Was that—did you do that?”

This time, his laughter shook the bed. “Who else would be doing it, sweetheart?”

He did it again and again, until he began to harden inside her.

He groaned. “Now see what you have done, Lady Shelton?”

“I didn’t do anything. That was all you.”

“You are heaven,” he said. “Utter heaven. I have been dreaming about being inside you for weeks.”

Just what did a woman say to such a thing? Not that she didn’t adore hearing it.

He pushed up onto his elbows and smiled down at her. “You are so wet and tight that I want to take you again. And again. But I will not. I know you must be terribly sore.”

There was an undeniable ache underlying the pleasure she felt having him inside her. “A little,” she admitted. “Are—are you?”

He stilled, his expression arrested. “Er, am I what?”

“Sore.”

“No,” he said after a long moment. “Men are fortunate that way,” he added in a suspiciously level voice.

She squinted at him. “You are teasing me, aren’t you?”

“I would never!” he said, opening his eyes comically wide.

“You are horrid.”

He laughed. “I am,” he agreed, slowly withdrawing from her body. “But you love me anyway, don’t you?”

A hiss escaped her, and not just from the slight physical burn. “Yes, Andrew. I love you anyway.”

He backed down her body, until he was once again between her thighs. “I am relieved to hear it, darling, because I love you, too.”

Stacia’s eyes, which had begun to close, flew open. “What?”

He grinned up the length of her body, his skilled fingers lightly caressing her sex. “Heard that part, did you? And here I thought you had fallen asleep.” He lowered his mouth and kissed her thigh. “I wanted to tell you earlier, but it is bad form to tell one’s lover such a thing at the peak of passion.”

“But…since when?” she asked.

“Your new husband is a terrible dunce, Stacia. It took me until this morning in the chapel to finally put a name to what I was feeling. But today is not the first time I experienced the emotion.”

“It—it wasn’t?”

He shook his head. “Somewhere along the way, without me even realizing it, my enchantment turned to love. I wish I could recall when the feeling took hold, but I do know that I was enchanted and fascinated by you since the night I said such horrid things about you and you gave me a cool tongue lashing outside the drawing room, instead of doing what I really deserved and shoving me down the stairs.”

“Oh, Andrew,” she said, her vision suddenly blurry.

“I love your laugh, my sweet, serious, darling Miss Martin.” He gave her a rueful smile. “I am sorry it has taken me so long to tell you what I felt. For the longest time I thought there was only room for one sort of love in my heart. I convinced myself that is what my vendetta was all about: my love for Mariah. I am not saying that I didn’t love her, but what I did in the years after her death was not about her, but about my obsession with hurting Sylvester. Will you forgive me for being such a dolt for so long—for not telling you what I felt when you shared your love with me?”

“I am glad you didn’t tell me then, Andrew. I might have thought you were just being kind, rather than telling me what you truly felt.”

“You are too good to me; you have been from the very beginning. I will strive to make my idiotic behavior a thing of the past, darling. And you—you are my future. My future and my love.”

She gave a watery laugh when he kissed her. “Don’t become too perfect. I rather like some of your idiotic behavior.”

He laughed. “I can safely say that is a given.” His eyelids lowered and he gave her a look that could only be called carnivorous. “But enough talking about how much I love you,” he said, his lips curving into the sinful smile she loved so much. “Now let me show you.”

And then he proceeded to do exactly that.

The End