To Trust a Rogue (The Heart of a Duke Book 8)(126)

By: Christi Caldwell

“And I love you,” he said, his words roughened by desire, then with an agonized groan, Marcus slid deep as though their bodies had been destined for unity and then he began to move. He rocked his hips slowly and she lifted her hips tentatively matching his rhythm.

And with each thrust, he drew her higher and higher up that great climb, to the edge of a precipice and then she stiffened as her body hurtled over the edge and she cried out, exploding into a prism of white light and ecstasy. She dimly registered Marcus’ echoing shout, as with his thrust he touched her very core, and then poured his seed deep inside. He touched her in a way that there was no pain or remembrance of the past, there was just them, as it was always meant to be.

Marcus collapsed above her, capturing his weight on his elbows. He rolled to the side and drew her close. The movement sent rose petals fluttering and dancing about them. Eleanor curled against him, wrapping herself in his warmth. A shy smile turned her lips up. “You kept your promise, Marcus Gray.” He’d shown her with his every touch, his body’s every movement, that lovemaking was a thing of wonder and beauty. He’d awakened her to the truth that nothing had been stolen from her. She was still worthy and capable of desire and feeling.

Marcus studied her through heavy, lazy lids. “And will you make me a promise, love?” He stroked his hand down the small of her back.

A delicious shiver traveled from where his breath tickled her neck. “Oh, and what is that?” she asked, angling to better meet his gaze.

“Promise me forever.”

Eleanor leaned up and received his kiss. “Forever,” she whispered.

The End