A Penny's Worth of Affection novel Chapter 83

Henry was seated to his right and leaned forward with a knowing glint in his eyes. "Planning how to abduct your wife? I know how you feel because I thought the exact same thing at my wedding."

"Who was the dimwit that decided celebratory breakfasts were in order immediately after a wedding? The fool should be castrated then shot," Phillip growled low in his throat, casting another lustful glance at his wife. This time she met his gaze, and he saw the exact same desire mirrored in her eyes.

"Blast it all!" he muttered, rising to his feet and striding across the table. Penny hastened to her feet as he got near, her eyes shiny with need, and Phillip paused only to sweep her into his arms and bid his guests a curt farewell. Penny's flustered giggle rang in his ears on the way up.

Alone at last with his wife in the brightly lit bedchamber, Phillip set his wife down gently and captured her mouth in a soft kiss, then pulled away to gaze into her eyes.

"I love you, Penelope," he said and kissed her again, her mouth like a potent wine of which he could never get enough of, his loins igniting as she pressed up against him, her lips searching, tasting, demanding in return.

He lifted her once more and lay her down on the bed; the delicate rose petals crushed and filled the air with their sweet fragrance. Penny gazed up at him, one hand tracing over his face, a dreamy look in her eyes. She looked wanton and beautiful lying there, and Phillip fought for control, resisting the urge to bury himself inside her as soon as possible. Rather, he took his sweet time rediscovering every inch of her delectable, little body, bringing her to the brink of passion over and over again but not quite letting her achieve fulfilment until he was throbbing so hard and joined them in one swift thrust. The bedchamber resounded with their moans and groans as the couple writhed together in ecstasy.

Much, much later, a thoroughly sated Penny curled up within her husband's arms and traced idle lines on his chest. "How many children do you think we should have?" she asked, looking up at him.

Phillip thought for a moment and chuckled. "As many as we possibly can! Newbridge is large enough to support an entire battalion of them."

***

One year later

"She's not having any more after this!" Phillip declared, pacing the corridor in front of his room, the sound of his wife's agonized screams tearing holes in his heart. "Bloody hell, it has been almost two days, and she is in agony. No more, I tell you, Westbrooke."

Henry glanced at his friend in sympathy, knowing just how worried Phillip was. "I hear the woman completely forgets the pain once the child is born. Come, Newbridge, let us wait in your study. It will ease your torture if you stay out of earshot."

Phillip raked a hand through his hair and glared at his friend. "There is no way she will ever forget that," he raged, pointing toward the door which had been firmly shut against him from the moment Penny had gone into confinement for the birth of their first child. "I vowed to protect her from pain, but there she is, labouring to bring forth the child I cursed upon her." A particularly bloodcurdling scream came from within, and Phillip barely restrained himself from breaking down the door. Most likely, Penny would chew his head off for destroying yet another door, even while battling the pain that racked her body. No, he would stay here.

He groaned, feeling so helpless and hating the feeling. "Was it this way with Lucy? I don't recall sitting with you for two days before your son was born. Why is it taking so long?"

Before Henry could reply, the door swung open, and Jane came out, looking as worn out as Phillip felt. He caught a brief glimpse of Penny on the huge bed, propped up on several pillows with her hair plastered to her damp forehead before it was shut, and Phillip longed to go to her, soothe away the pain somehow.

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