Twenty-Eight

**Adalene** stared at the Baron’s handsome face. She couldn’t help but feel disappointed, but before she could make a fool of herself, she lowered her eyes.
“Yes, you are right. I am indeed a bit sore.”
She did not want to burden him with her expectations because she shouldn’t have any! And, honestly, her thighs ached also. They had never had the experience of being as tense ever as when he was... doing his thing between them.
He went back to the hall and she continued on her walk to her bedchamber, again feeling the acute disappointment that she would not be sleeping in bed with him tonight. She would have loved, at least, to cuddle...
She almost stumbled at the thought. She really should stop thinking about doing things with him that a woman would expect from a husband. But she was sleeping with him! screamed another part of her inside her head. Well, it was purely lust. That was different from love.
Then she remembered how sweetly and lovingly he had kissed her face after they made love in the gazebo, and she didn’t know how to describe the feeling that she felt inside her chest.
Like her heart had either melted, or someone was playing with the strings there and was making beautiful music.
She was going to have a problem if she fell in love with the Baron if she hadn’t already.
She hoped she hadn’t yet, and all the respect that she felt was because he was indeed an admirable man in all respects, and any woman would admire him and would vie for his attention, including her, of course.
Except she shouldn’t. She already had his attention.
He’d bought it. He’d bought her time with him in bed. And it wasn’t because he loved her. Or that he had fallen in love with her.
She must not forget that it would end anytime, and he would eventually marry and be with some other woman more in league with his station.
She, on the other hand, would never get there. She would never be that woman.
After her non-verbal tongue-lashing of herself, a much more subdued Adalene entered the door of her bedchamber. Just right behind her came the same handmaidens who had been helping her get ready for the baron, and they helped her ease her way out of her gown and into comfortable sleeping clothes.
Once alone, she realized how tired she was. She was drained most physically and emotionally. Even her head felt like it had cotton stuffed inside the place of her brain.
And as soon as her head hit the pillows, she fell asleep.

**Adalene** dreamed of the Baron getting in bed with her, naked body sidling to hers, and he was very warm. And she slowly woke up to find that he was real. She could smell his body’s scent and a certain vibration as if he was humming very low in his chest as he moved towards her. He was pushing at the blankets and his strong arms went around her. She smiled, though her eyes remained closed. How he’d felt, and how he’d smelled, had become very familiar to her. Her heart couldn’t describe the feeling of knowing he couldn’t stay away as he’d promised.
But then he lifted her from the bed and she clutched at him in surprise and the sensation of falling. He only held her tighter to him as he laughed under his breath.
“Fabian...” she whispered, her voice scratchy from sleep. Her eyelids and body felt so heavy.
“I’m restless and I can’t sleep. I want you in my bed.”
She smiled at the possessive tone in his voice and she buried her face in his chest.
He took her to his bedchamber and to his huge bed, where he slowly worked to get her naked. He started to kiss her all over, tiny kisses that were so whispery and gentle that it felt like she was still dreaming. His touch always felt like a dream. He opened her thighs and his lips kissed her there tenderly, his tongue flicking slowly but surely, gently brushing her soreness into a throbbing awareness. Her eyes were still closed when he pushed her knees wider to give way to his girth, but she was already soaking with excitement. He made sure she was properly stimulated. His cock slowly but smoothly pierced her, and all sensations rocked her to full alertness.
He took her gently... carefully, his thrusts slow but full, slow and full... again... and again—until the rhythm collected the heat and built it up into a raging inferno inside her.
When release came, she moaned loudly, her whole body a container of hot, pulsing fire. She clung to him, sweaty, convulsing against his hard body. When he came, his groan was another impetus that spurred another burst of explosion.
And then they lay there panting, wrapped around each other like they always did, like there was no option to let go.
“Fabian,” she whispered, her voice still uneven. “I thought you were not coming.”
“I can’t sleep knowing you’re just there and I can’t touch you. What have you done to me?” he asked, smiling.
She sighed. “What about what you’ve done to me, my Lord?” she whispered, too.
“What did I do?”
“You’ve made me very happy.”
“Happy?” The joy about to burst was in his voice. “Do I make you happy?”
She crinkled her nose. “And sore. I think you’re insatiable. But you make me so happy.”
He laughed a low sound that brought another burst of warmth not just into her belly but into her heart. It had become her favorite sound in the world.
She lay there, cradled by his heat and his soft whispers of endearments. Before she could fully slide back to her dream world, she remembered what she was now—his mistress.
Was it really such a bad fate, when it felt at that moment like she had finally come home, being here in his arms?
But until when would it last?
She found her peace back in sleep.