It was as if that was all the encouragement Magnus had been waiting for. He swung her up into his arms and carried her through to the adjoining bedchamber.

  After the past almost forty-eight hours of uncertainty and misunderstandings, Magnus didn’t need to be asked twice to take Olivia to his bed.

  He smiled before placing her gently down on the comfort of the wide berth he’d personally had built and installed to accommodate his height and breadth.

  He hadn’t envisaged having a woman on board to share it with him at the time he’d done so, but he had to admit that the almost double bed would be far more comfortable for them to make love in than the original single berth.

  Dear God, he was about to make love with Olivia.

  The very thought of it, the significance of this moment, was enough to speed up Magnus’s heart rate and cause his lungs to contract, making it difficult to breathe.

  She tilted her head as she looked up at him as he remained frozen above her. “Have you changed your mind?”

  Magnus knew he would never change his mind about this woman. Olivia was beautiful. Warm. Honest, sometimes to the point of discomfort. And braver than many men he knew.

  He gave a shake of his head “I was just thinking I have never met anyone like you before,” he answered her.

  He held her gaze as he unbuttoned his waistcoat before removing it. Unfastened the ties at his throat before pulling his shirt over his head, leaving him bare-chested.

  He leaned down to touch the heat of one of her cheeks. “So beautiful,” he murmured before his hands moved to the fastening of his breeches.

  Olivia didn’t look away once as he removed his breeches, stockings, and shoes, the pupils of her eye dilating when he stood before her wearing only his drawers.

  “Those too,” she encouraged softly.

  “And so very brave,” he admired.

  “And impatient. Which I am sure you cannot possibly believe to be a virtue,” she teased huskily.

  “It can be.” His voice was gruff. “But for your determination to see and speak with me before I left the island, I would now be sailing back to England alone, believing you hate me. Instead, we are sailing back to England together and shall soon be married. Although,” he frowned darkly, “I would rather you had not put your life in danger in such a reckless fashion for us to have reached this point.”

  “Believe me when I tell you I have been made well aware of your displeasure, my lord,” she assured with a pained squirm, no doubt for the soreness of her bottom now pressing against the bedcovers.

  “And now I shall show you the depth of my desire,” he promised. “For you, Olivia. Only for you.” He unfastened his drawers before removing them to stand beside the bed completely naked.

  Olivia’s gaze moved hungrily over every inch of his bared skin, lingering on his engorged and jutting cock. It was like a work of art, sculptured and smoothed to perfection. The thick vein along its length throbbed.

  She held his gaze as she moved up onto her knees before clasping the bottom of the overlarge shirt she wore to then pull it up and over her head before discarding it onto the floor with Magnus’s clothes.

  The two of them stared at each other with unmistakable hunger for several long and tense moments before Olivia regained her courage and held out her arms to him in invitation. An invitation Magnus didn’t hesitate to accept, instantly joining her on the bed to capture and claim her lips.

  Olivia’s arms moved about his wide and warm shoulders as she returned the wild heat of that kiss.

  A kiss which rapidly spiraled out of their control. Lips searching. Tongues claiming. Hands running restlessly over warm flesh.

  Magnus’s hands caressed her sides, her breasts, her back, the warmth of her bottom cheeks, noticeably tender from the spanking he had given her.

  Olivia’s hands weren’t idle either, stroking and learning every inch of Magnus’s muscular back, shoulders, and chest.

  On and on they kissed and touched, their groans of mutual pleasure in touching and being touched becoming almost obscene.

  Olivia wanted more.

  She was ready for more.

  They continued those hungry kisses as Olivia slowly lowered herself back onto the bed until she was lying with Magnus now on top of her and between her parted legs.

  The weight of him pressing down on her felt exquisite.

  She groaned her disappointment when his lips parted from hers. His hands moved up to cradle either side of her face as he looked down at her. “Mine.”

  “Yours,” she breathed huskily. “Always.”

  “Always.”

  She placed her palms against his cheeks. “Mine.”

  “Yours,” he acknowledged. “Always.”

  Those words felt as much of a claiming of each other as making their wedding vows would soon be.

  Magnus lowered his head to kiss her again briefly before trailing the heat of his lips to her throat, her collarbones, the swell of her breasts before claiming and sucking on first one nipple and then the other.

  Olivia gasped, her body arching involuntarily as Magnus sucked and bit her sensitive flesh until she was squirming and mewling for the blissful release she knew he was capable of giving her.

  Instead, his body slid lower down hers, lips hot and damp as they claimed inch after inch of her flesh. Her abdomen. The gentle slope of her stomach. He lifted his head to stare down at her when he reached her mound, fingertips gently parting the delicate folds beneath.

  “So beautiful,” he murmured before he lowered his head and the moistness of his tongue licked a sensual path from the wet opening of her channel to the engorged nubbin above.

  Olivia knew she should feel uncomfortable with such intimacy as this, or at the least embarrassed, but all she felt was the arousing lashing of Magnus’s tongue taking her higher and higher to a pinnacle which would launch her into that sea of unimaginable pleasure.

  “Please,” she groaned, clutching his shoulders. “Please, Magnus.”

  His fingers replaced his lips on that sensitive nubbin, stroking and pressing as his mouth moved lower, licking up her juices before plunging into the heat of her channel.

  Pleasure burst inside Olivia, wave after wave of intense bliss that shook her whole body and resulted in a blaze of white light behind her tightly closed lids.

  “Again,” Magnus spoke gruffly against her trembling flesh. “I want you nice and wet when I put my cock inside you.”

  Whether it was those words or the resumed stroking of those pleasure-giving fingers and tongue Olivia instantly came again.

  And again.

  She lost count of how many times that pleasure claimed her body and soul until she was no more than slick and sensitive flesh which responded instantly to Magnus’s slightest touch.

  “God, yes…” she groaned when he finally moved onto his knees and positioned the tip of his cock against her entrance. “Please, Magnus!” she urged as he hesitated.

  He winced. “I have tried to prepare you, but even so, it is going to hurt at first.”

  “I do not care. I want you inside me. Now.” She moved onto her elbows. “I want to watch,” she told him huskily.

  He looked at her warmly. “My beautiful, brave Olivia.”

  “Impatient Olivia,” she reminded ruefully.

  Magnus chuckled softly; his gaze fixed on his cock as he pushed forward to slowly enter her channel.

  It did hurt a little as Magnus’s cock stretched and widened her channel to accommodate his width, Olivia acknowledged. But the wonderful feeling of fullness, of watching as his cock pushed deeper and deeper inside her, soon wiped away that initial pinch of discomfort.

  “That feels so good,” Magnus groaned once his cock was buried to the hilt inside Olivia’s hot channel, sure he had never felt such an overwhelming rightness as this before. “So good!” he murmured as he slowly lowered his body on top of hers, his weight on his elbows as he kissed her.

  They fit together perfectly.

  As if they were two halves of a whole.

  Destined to find each other.

  To claim.

  To love each other.

  Except now was not the time for Magnus to tell Olivia how much he loved her. It would seem as if it was merely in response to the moment, whereas Magnus knew his love for Olivia would last a lifetime.

  Soon, my love, he promised.

  And then he wasn’t capable of thinking at all, could only feel as her body began to undulate and lift beneath his, taking his cock deeper still, until it felt as if he touched her womb with each thrust forward.

  The womb where his seed would take root and Olivia would grow round and ripe with their child.

  That thought alone was enough to increase his thrusts, harder and deeper, until both of them cried out as their climax released simultaneously. Wave after wave of ecstasy accompanied by the pulsing heat of Magnus’s release deep inside Olivia.

  And he somehow knew, by pure animal instinct, perhaps, that they had already sown the seed of the first of the children they would have together.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “How dare you bring that man into my home?”

  Magnus glanced toward the woman coming down the wide staircase leading up from the large entrance hall of Aldrich House, the London home of the Earl and Countess of Aldrich.

  He had not seen Margaret Buchan for many years, but he still recognized her. Possibly now aged in late forties, Margaret appeared rail thin in a pale blue gown, her dark hair now streaked with gray, and her once-beautiful face set in lines of the same discontent discernable in her voice.

  “Mama—”

  “Get out.” Margaret ignored her eldest daughter and continued to glare at Magnus as she reached the bottom of the staircase and walked toward them with purpose. “I told you to get out of my home,” she bit out harshly as she came to a halt several feet in front of him, her hands clenched at her sides. “Leave us,” she instructed the butler coldly.

  Magnus waited until the three of them were alone before speaking. “I heard you. Both times. But as, for the moment, this is still Olivia’s home too, I have no intention of going anywhere.”

  “I am the mistress of this house, not Olivia.” Margaret gave her daughter a scathing glance.

  Magnus and Olivia had that morning traveled by carriage from the docks. Before leaving, Magnus had arranged for the fisherman on the Isle of Man to receive reimbursement for the loss of his boat and several days’ fishing. They had also stopped at Carlton House long enough for Magnus to report to Prinny as to the success of his time spent on the Isle of Man. But also to request if the Regent would be kind enough to arrange for a Special Marriage License for the two of them.

  Because of his desire to obtain the latter, Magnus had refrained, for now, from telling Prinny of his decision to leave the navy.

  Olivia’s nervousness had increased the closer they came to Aldrich House. The obvious reason for which was now standing several feet away from them, looking at her eldest daughter with undisguised dislike.

  “What do you mean ‘for the moment’?” Margaret Buchan now demanded imperiously.

  Magnus met her gaze coolly. “I am about to ask the earl for his eldest daughter’s hand in marriage. After our wedding, Olivia will be my countess and we shall divide our time living together at Rockborne House and the Rockborne estates.”

  Margaret recoiled as if he had struck her, before she once again turned that contemptuous gaze upon her daughter. “Are you completely stupid?” she scorned. “Or perhaps you are merely so desperate for a husband that you do not care that eighteen years ago, this man was the lover of your own aunt? That he was the father of the baby that killed her?”

  Magnus thanked every god he could think of, and some he couldn’t, that Olivia was already aware of and believed him innocent of these accusations.

  Even so, he still could not stop himself from seeking out and tightly clasping one of Olivia’s gloved hands in his. He was not about to let anything or anyone come between them. With or without her father’s blessing, Magnus intended for them to be married. After the night of pleasure they had just spent together, perhaps sooner rather than later would be best.

  Olivia had proven to be every bit the passionate lover Magnus had thought she would. She not only gave pleasure, but had tacitly granted him license to do with her as he wanted in order to give him pleasure and bring her to climax after climax.

  Magnus believed he was now more intimately familiar with every inch of Olivia’s delicious body than he was his own. There was also that possibility she already carried their child.

  Whether she was or not, he would never give her up.

  For any reason.

  Olivia had been aware for many years of her mother’s dislike of her. She had no idea why, only that it was there, and underlined every word her mother spoke to her, every gesture made. For the main part, Olivia had learned to ignore that coldness.

  But not over this. Not when it came to Magnus or when it became a threat to her future with him.

  Olivia raised her chin. “I am aware of, and dismiss as lies, those rumors spread about in Society in the past in order to try to blacken Magnus’s name and salvage the reputation of your sister.”

  “They are not lies—”

  “They most certainly are,” Olivia stated firmly. “Your sister was promiscuous, but Magnus was never one of her lovers.”

  “Is that what he told you?” her mother scoffed.

  Olivia bristled at the contempt in her mother’s voice. “What Magnus has or has not confided in me is none of your business.”

  “I have no idea how the two of you even met each other, but I am telling you now, you shall not marry him!” Her mother’s voice again rose to that shrill level.

  “We did not come here to ask for your permission,” Olivia replied calmly.

  “Your father will not allow it either,” Margaret assured knowingly.

  “What is it I will not allow?” Her father appeared in the hallway from the back of the house, obviously brought out of his study to investigate the source of the loud conversation taking place in the entrance hall. “Good grief, is that you, Olivia…?” He stared at her over the top of his reading glasses.

  Olivia gave Magnus’s hand a squeeze before releasing herself to run to her father. He opened his arms and enfolded her into a warm hug when she threw herself into his arms.

  Her father was often vague and distracted. He also allowed her mother far too much license over their children’s upbringing and to the running of the household as she pleased. But Olivia loved him, and any happy memories she might have of her childhood always involved him.

  He looked puzzled when she pulled back enough to look at him. “I thought you were not due back from the Isle of Man for another month?”

  “The stupid chit thinks she is going to be allowed to marry Rockborne,” her mother dismissed with scorn.

  “Rockborne?” Henry Buchan glanced across to where the younger man stood. “Is it really you, Magnus?” In contrast to her mother, he sounded pleased to see the younger man again.

  Olivia felt encouraged by that warmth. “Magnus and I wish to be married, Papa—”

  “I have already said you shall not marry him!” her mother interrupted shrilly.

  Olivia looked at her coldly. “And I have told you that I am not asking your permission.” She turned back to her father. “Papa, please,” she appealed.

  “I do not see any reason why you should not—”

  “You will be silent, Henry!” His wife crossed to his other side. “Olivia shall not marry Rockborne.”

  “The Prince Regent has already agreed to grant us a Special License so that we can marry immediately,” Olivia stated calmly.

  Her mother’s cold gaze raked over her before settling on her abdomen hidden by the fashionable purple high-waisted gown she wore. “Have you behaved the slut and you now carry his child?”

  Magnus had heard enough. More than enough. “You will silence your vicious tongue, madam, in regard to my future wife,” he instructed Margaret Buchan icily. “In fact, I think it will be best for all concerned if we take this conversation somewhere more private.” Although God knows Margaret Buchan had already revealed more than enough scandal for any listening servants to hear. “Perhaps we could go to your study, Aldrich?”

  “I— Yes, of course.”

  The earl still looked confused once they had all entered the privacy of his study and closed the door, no doubt by both the unexpected appearance of his eldest daughter and by the vitriol of his wife.

  Magnus had never thought it would be an easy matter to obtain the Aldriches’ permission to marry Olivia. But he had not thought it would be as bad as this. He had not quite appreciated how much Margaret Buchan disliked her own daughter, to a degree it seemed she was prepared, if it was within her power, to deny Olivia any happiness.

  Because Olivia looked so much like Emelia?

  Magnus had a feeling that was the case. After all, was he not also initially guilty of feeling that same aversion because of Olivia’s similarity in looks to her aunt?

  But, as he had quickly learned, it was only a surface likeness, and one he had soon dismissed. It was certainly not something which Olivia’s own mother should blame her for.

  He turned to Olivia’s father. “Henry, I have never disliked nor blamed you for what happened eighteen years ago. But unless you wish to see Olivia as unhappy as you are yourself, I believe now is the time for you to put the past to rest.”

  Aldrich glanced first at his wife and then his daughter. His wife’s face was an angry mask of contempt. Olivia’s expression was confused, but still warm with understanding; no doubt she was used to seeing her father browbeaten by his shrew of a wife.

  “Aldrich,” Magnus prompted softly.

  The older man’s face was pale but determined as he turned to Olivia. “Do you truly wish to marry this man?”