His Lady Mistress

184 His Lady MistressMadness. Sheer madness. His hand reached for the handleas he blew out the candle and placed it on the table by thedoor.Verity waited, sitting up against her pillows. She must bedoing something wrong. Each night he came to her and madelove to her in the darkness.Always in darkness. With a sigh she leaned over andturned down the bedside lamp. Max always did that beforehe joined her in bed to pleasure her until she cried out andbegged for release. A tremor took her body at the thought ofthe tender intimacy of his hands, the heated, silky caress ofhis mouth and tongue, loving her until the darkness shatteredin fire.Yet he never took his own pleasure, never possessed herbody with his. Every night he left her. And every night shecould sense the coiled frustration within him, feel the flickeringtension. She must be doing something wrong. Butwhat? Her response? But then why did he do all those thingsthat brought her response welling up? She could only thinkof one thing.He had once told her that he knew he had hurt her thenight he took her virginity. That it would never be like thatfor her again. Perhaps he wanted to be quite sure that shewanted him...she blushed...inside her, before he took heragain. Perhaps...her blush scorched her cheeks...perhaps sheneeded to tell him, plainly, that she wanted him, before hewould possess her fully.Tonight then. Tonight she would tell him. Tell him sheloved him, that she wanted him, longed to have his child. Hehad been so dear and tender with her over the past week.Somehow all the anger had gone, leaving Max, her lover. Hehad never spoken of love, but she could not doubt that hecared for her a little at least. That he would be gentle withher love even if he never returned it.Tonight then would be different. Tonight she would finallybecome his wife. In truth as well as name.