Worth of a Duke by K.J. Jackson

Author:K.J. Jackson [Jackson, K.J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-940149-09-7
Publisher: AWD Publishing
Published: 2015-06-29T16:00:00+00:00

{ Chapter 14 }

Rowen pushed his horse, an Iberian Peninsula Barb, down through the cold creek and up the muddy bank to the long stretch of land where he could truly set this horse free.

Mud flew up at him, splattering onto his face, his chest. Phalos would be persnickety about it, but Rowen wasn’t about to take Phalos out on a ride like this.

Hard. Punishing—at least to himself. Never to the horse. And this young one could take it—wanted it like no other. Hooves pounded the ground.

Rowen had thought he could stop it at just a kiss.

But then Wynne’s skin. So soft. Offering herself up to him. Blast it—not just offering, demanding he take her.

All he had wanted to do was take her pain away. Take her pain and turn it into something raw and beautiful and life-affirming.

And then he had convinced himself he could stop after freeing just one nipple.

He was wrong.

So damn wrong. And hell. Even with the bruising of the saddle, he was hard again.

He pulled up on the stallion, standing in the stirrups.

Hard just thinking of Wynne’s skin, of her body writhing under his touch. Of him stretching deep within her. He hadn’t even found the sense to pull out before he came—hadn’t had any notion at the time it would be the proper thing to do. Too consumed. Too absorbed in the woman under him.

It was her very reaction at the end of last night that he had dreaded, had tried to avoid.

For all that Wynne had convinced herself she wanted him—Rowen wasn’t sure she was in her right mind yet.

And he damn well wanted her in her right mind.

He did not want half love from this woman. He wanted all of her. Every breath. Every word. Every thought. He couldn’t accept less. Not from Wynne.

He had thought his standard, what he wanted in a mate, was impossible. Impossible until he met Wynne.

Rowen looked out across the long field, the openness stretching until it disappeared past a far-off hill. The cold brown ground shimmered with early morning frost.

What was he to do now? Wait? Pretend last night never happened? Hover until he was sure Wynne was done grieving for her mother? Wasn’t looking to him solely to escape?

That was going to be damn hard, as all he wanted to do was strip her down and claim every last spec of her skin. Run his hands along her bare stomach, the muscles on her legs. Make her writhe under him. Watch her come. Again and again.

The horse kicked, demanding to be unleashed once more.

Rowen heaved a sigh. This was getting him nowhere.

And there weren’t enough horses in the stables to ride out of his body what he really needed to be doing.

Taking Wynne to his bed.

“Sorry, young fellow.” Rowen patted the neck of the black horse. “I will ride this stretch out with you, but it will not be the exhaustion you were hoping for.”

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