The Bride Tournament (Hexed Hearts Book 1)(61)

Glazed baby-blues looked up at him with awe-inspired admiration.

He reveled in the loving look, so often replaced by a wry frown. He liked that he could thrust the scowl out of her. He circled his hips and Ellie moaned. Her hands fluttered to his abdomen, soft fingers running along his muscles.

She looked so tired, depleted, in need of rest.

He smiled, and thrust. Deep.

He pistoned his hips as he lowered his torso so the base of his shaft pressed against her core. She gasped and shook her head. Honey blonde strands spilled over his pillows like a cascade of sunshine.

“Yes,” he ordered.

“But…I already…” Color branched across her cheeks.

He pounded faster. Pressure built at the base of his spine. So close. “Come with me, love.”

Her eyes rolled back in her head and her berry-tipped breasts bounced and bounced and bounced. Fruitcake.

He exploded. Pouring into Ellie’s womb with the force of a tidal wave. Endless. She screamed and clenched around him. Her back arched high off the mattress. His own back clenched with the suddenness of his release. Her little muscles clamped around him, sucking him deep. Milked him dry.

He shuddered and collapsed, rolling to his side so he didn’t crush her. Ellie panted. He couldn’t form words. Colors sparked behind his closed eyelids as he grasped her bottom and pulled her over him, like a blanket. She moaned and tucked her head under his chin.

He wound his fingers through her tangled curls. Can’t even smile. I’ll grin tomorrow.

Exhausted, he fell quickly into sleep, Ellie at his side.

***

Breath tickled her lips. Weary, she blinked her eyes open. Gerard leaned over her, his dark hair tumbling around his hazel gaze. “Good morning, wife.”

She smiled and stretched deliciously sore muscles. “Morning, husband.”

She craned her head and took in his pressed tunic. “Where are you off to?”

Unable to stop a pout from pushing out her lips, she crossed her arms. Gasp! The sheets were nothing more than a tangled mess at her feet. Naked as the day she was born, Ellie scrambled for cover.

“Uh-uh, you don’t get to play shy, Ellie.” Gerard grinned like a schoolboy.

She shoved his groping hands away with paltry strength. His fingers closed over her breasts, and he rubbed in a tender experimentation. A moan escaped her lips. Ellie arched further into his touch.

“You sure you want leave?” She raised a brow and bit her lip on a second moan. This was by far the best morning of her life.

A frown dipped his brow. His mouth gaped open and slammed shut.

She traced her fingers over his throat, undoing the ties at his neck. She burrowed inside and reveled in the sleek muscles of his chest. The way his pectorals bunched and danced under her touch.

She bit down harder on her bottom lip as Gerard pinched the tips of her naked breasts.

“Ellie, you minx.” He pulled back panting. His legs bracketed her waist and she squirmed under him, remembering the marvels he’d conducted last night.

“Again?” She motioned to the erection straining his trews.

Gerard shook his head on a groan and rolled from the bed in a twist of hips that left her breathless. “No, unfortunately, no.”

“Why not?”

“When I get back, yes. But now, no.” Rakish, Gerard ran his fingers through his wavy hair. A hellish light entered his eyes and in a swift movement, he grabbed her ankles, slid her to the edge of the mattress, and flipped her over.

The skin along her spine and buttocks prickled in anticipation.

Gerard cupped her flesh, placed a quick kiss to her behind, and followed it all with a light spank. “A few maids are readying a bath for you. Be good. I’ll be back by tea time.”

She sighed and grumbled.

By the time she rolled over, he’d already fled the room. “Coward.”

Stretching her hips, she twisted and stood from the warm comfort of the bed. She donned a silk dressing gown and padded to the porcelain tub in the adjoining room.

Three women bustled about with pails of steaming water and soon the tub was full. In a matter of hours, Ellie found herself bathed, perfumed, pampered, dressed, and her hair plaited in an elegant twist along the crown of her head.

Her gown, amber velvet, clung to her body and was no doubt the softest garment she’d ever worn. Ellie traipsed down the royal quarters and hummed a lazy tune as she entered the breakfast room.

“Oh, hello dear.”

She glanced up from the painted rugs and found the queen resting at the long table, wearing a simple gown with her hair in a chignon. Society papers covered the planked tabletop along with a pot of coffee and a collection of pastries.

Ellie blushed from her toes to her hairline. She hadn’t planned on seeing her mother-in-law so soon after her wedding night. She cleared her throat and smiled. “Good morning, or afternoon.” She squinted at the small clock on the empty buffet bar.

“Come sit, I only awoke an hour ago. My guess is most of the castle is still abed and may remain that way all day.” The queen poured her a cup of steaming coffee, dark and spiced.

“Thank you.” Ellie helped herself to a chocolate stuffed croissant and sipped the brew in avid delight.

“Your father is settling in quite well.” The queen passed Ellie a note written in scraggly sapphire script.

She smiled down at her father’s disjointed handwriting then frowned as she took in the meaning.