Free At Least Once More by Emma Lai

Abbott,” Gareth growled, closing on her from behind.
    Ahead, the door, held by the butler, opened.
    “Thompson, tell Mr. Abbott that His Grace is here for breakfast and send Marie to draw a bath, if you please.”
    She sailed through the entry and up the stairs as the servant said, “Yes, Miss Abbott.” A second later, she heard, “Your Grace, if you please. This way to the breakfast room.”
    A small smile teased her lips at Gareth’s frustrated huff. The smile fell when she realized he’d soon be sitting down to a meal with her brother. She clasped her throat. Surely he wouldn’t say anything foolish or mention this morning’s events?
    But what could she do? There was no way she could face her brother with her—lover?—sitting across the table. The throbbing in her head and between her legs intensified. Definitely not. She and Gareth could work out their problems later, hopefully when her legs weren’t jelly and her emotions weren’t in turmoil.
    She briefly considered knocking on Minerva’s door, but she was really in no state to talk to her sister-in-law. Not with unexpected twinges leaving her thighs quivering and her body wanting more. More of Gareth inside her, stretching her to the point of pain.
    He might have thought her questions had been answered, but really, she couldn’t help but feel as if there was yet something more waiting. Was it wrong to want confirmation before committing her life to a man? Would Gareth take her to that precipice again and beyond it?
    What would it be like to be bared to his gaze and have his hands and lips at her breasts while he thrust inside her?
    She locked her knees as they threatened to buckle. She grabbed the doorknob to her bedroom for support. Resting her other hand on the wood grain, she took a deep breath.
    There’d been that one moment of really sharp pain, but it had passed on a wave of pleasure. Then he’d slid even deeper and hit some magical spot deep inside that blended the sensation of pain and pleasure so seamlessly. She’d hardly been able to catch her breath.
    Moisture coated her thighs, which were still sticky from earlier. This line of thought certainly was not helping. She shoved open the door and headed toward the privacy screen.
    She’d been behind it but a minute when she heard the door open. “I’ll be out shortly, Marie.” Annabelle tossed her dress over the screen, undid the tapes to her petticoat and let it puddle to the floor. The door opened again. “Marie?”
    “Yes, milady?”
    She peeked her head from behind the screen, watched as two footmen carried in the hip bath, followed by six maids carrying pots of water. “Extra hot, please.”
    She ducked back behind the screen and slid off her garters then rolled her stockings down. A small twinge in her lower back—akin to discomfort from long hours in the saddle—halted her movements. She sucked in a harsh breath. Definitely needed it extra hot.
    The door closed again. Not bothering with a robe, she stepped from behind the screen wearing naught but her shift.
    The room was blessedly empty and silent. She walked toward the bath.
    “Did I hurt you?”
    She stifled a squeak at the sound of Gareth’s voice and spun toward it, her hand over her racing heart. He stood beside the curtains.
    What was he doing in her room? How had he slipped past Thompson?
    Her heart fluttered in her chest. Had he come to find her out of concern? He’d asked if he had hurt her.
    Her pride certainly, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that. “I’m fine. Why aren’t you breakfasting with William?”
    A muscle in his cheek twitched when he clenched his jaw. “If you’re fine then why is there blood on your shift?”
    She glanced at her shift. “I see no blood.”
    He fisted his hands and ground out, “On the back side.”
    She huffed. Really, why was he mad? She strode over to the mirror, the long strides stretching muscles no doubt tight from being used in unexpected ways. The