Guilty Secrets
Historical Romance

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GUILTYSECRETSCorry awakened with a start, sitting up in bed and grabbing the bedspread tightly. Then she heard it again, a loud moaning sound, the sound of someone in agony. She heard a hoarse voice shouting, but she couldn’t make out the words.

With horror she realized it was coming from Adam’s room. She wrapped her thin nightrail around her and grabbed a candle. She pushed open the door between their rooms, one she had not opened before, and was at the side of his bed quickly, where she found Adam thrashing like a soul pursued by demons from hell.

She could make out a few words now and then. “No, no, killme too,” and then some indecipherable mumbling. He jerked straight up in bed, his face contorted like that of a man fighting the devil for his very life. “I don’t deserve mercy, don’t spare me.”

His words made no sense at all. She tried to hold him, but he struggled against her, and she did the only thing she could think of. She crawled in his bed and wrapped him as tightly as she could in her arms. He was naked, his body sweaty and clammy at the same time, and thrillingly powerful as he writhed against her.

She never saw Parkins come to the door and then quietly slip away

She knew only one way to comfort Adam, so she began to caress him, running her hands up and down his back, and whispered to him how much she enjoyed what they did together. She felt him begin to quiet, and then she knew that he was now awake.

“Corry! My God, what have I done? Why are you in my bed?”

He sat upright and sounded so angry she was momentarily dumfounded.

“You were having a nightmare, and I came to try to comfort you. I guess it was the wrong thing to do.”

She knew she sounded stiff and hurt, and she loosened her arms and started to climb out of the bed. He stopped her instantly. He threw his arms around her and lay her on her back, burying his face in her breasts for a long moment before he spoke.

“I never wanted you to know about my nightmares. But I must say this one is ending far better than any I’ve ever had.”

His voice was strained and husky, as if it hurt him to speak.

She lay rigidly, not sure of what either one of them was feeling. She only knew she couldn’t stay angry with this tormented man. He rolled on top of her and lay there, not moving, but she could feel his arousal as it grew and pushed at her belly.

She desperately wanted to help him.

“Can you tell me about your nightmare? Sometimes that’s the best thing.”

She smoothed his damp hair as she would that of a frightened child. She was well aware however, that it was no child who now was moving against her.

“I will never discuss that nightmare. Don’t ever ask me again. It’s a damned thing that comes on me from time to time, but is of no importance to you.”

His voice was implacable and cold, and she knew she was hearing the voice of the commander of men, one whose word was not to be disobeyed. There was to be no possibility of a discussion of this topic.

Hurt and shocked, she tried to push him off and leave this stubborn oaf where he lay. She’d been trying to help, but it seemed only he could pick the subjects he would respond to.

He tightened his arms and would not let her move.

“Don’t take offense, Corry. Please. It’s something I simply cannot talk about. I would tell you if I could, even though it might make you hate me. But will you welcome me into your body? Will you help me forget those horrible visions?”

There was no possibility of refusal, so she reached up and caressed his cheek. She was rewarded with a still different form of passion. He entered her quickly, taking her with such ardor that she could not help but respond instantly and with reciprocal eagerness. This time she could feel his deep need, and it fueled her own, and they spiraled together to a climax that was astonishing in its intensity.

“Stay with me tonight,” he murmured when his breathing steadied.

She turned over gladly, snuggled her bottom against him spoon-fashion, and fell asleep. She was far too tired and deliciously satiated to want further conversation.

She was not to know he lay awake for some time, holding her closely until his demons finally faded into the shadows, and wondering if he’d ruined her regard by letting her glimpse his shame. His phantoms never appeared twice in one night, so he could enjoy enfolding her in his arms, wishing he could do so every night.

How he wished he could keep her in his bed through all the dark hours of every night.