Already His (The Caversham Chronicles - Book Two) (28 page)

She would not cry. Would. Not. Cry.

“I... I...” She stuttered. Something she hadn’t done in years. “Goodnight.” As she turned to flee the room her eyes were beginning to swim in tears and she tripped over a chair. Michael was at her side in one leap, keeping her from falling.

“You think it’s easy for me?” He held her close, her back to him. She felt him press his lips to the top of her head as she melted into him. “Since realizing I want you, I have had to justify my change of heart not only to myself but also to your brother who is your guardian whether you like it or not.” His hands roved upward from her waist, to cup and mold themselves to her breasts. “I want you so badly I hurt.” Her skin shivered as his hot breath moved down to her ear, then her neck which she stretched to give him easier access to her naked flesh.

He took her hand and pressed it on his engorged member. “That’s what you do to me, and I can do nothing about it. So you’re not the only one left with unfulfilled desires.” Elise felt a tremor of fear and excitement course through her to pool in the area between her legs. She knew about the act of mating as it pertained to her horses, as she’d witnessed it many times before. With animals it often was a violent act, where the mare sometimes got bit and the stallion kicked.

But this didn’t feel violent at all. It felt wonderful, brilliant and... illicit, which gave it that air of arousing wickedness. She wondered if it would be the same powerful and life-affirming event she’d witness in the stallion barn at home.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to bring you discomfort or pain.” She attempted to run from him, flee the room for the safety of her own so she could cry.

“Don’t go like this, Elise.” He wiped a tear with his thumb and she rested her head in his hand. “I don’t want you to leave upset.”

“Michael, I need you. I feel....” She couldn’t tell him what she felt because he might think her depraved and wanton. Unworthy of him.

“Tell me what you feel,” he whispered as one of his hands reached lower to cup her where she ached. “I will try to help you.”

She shook her head, afraid of confessing the sensations he elicited in her.

“Tell me what you want Elise.” His hand moved over her and her bottom backed into his erection like a ready broodmare. “I cannot give you what you do not ask for.”

“I ache.” She panted, unable to catch a deep breath. “Inside, Michael. Please, I want you inside me so badly I ache.”

He groaned, and turned her in his arms so she faced him. “As painful as my condition is, I will not lay with you until we are wed.” She opened her mouth to protest, but he stopped her. “On that I will not compromise, Elise.” She started to pull away from him, to leave him, but he wouldn’t let her go. “But I
can
give you the release you’re so desperate for, without entering you. Is that what you’d like?”

Unable to speak, she nodded her head. “My body wants whatever you’re willing to give.”

A
s he held her gaze, he led her back to the sofa, laid her down on it, and covered her body with his. He took her lips in a kiss he intended to be sweet and coaxing, instead she opened for him and offered herself to him unreservedly and with an intense passion that belied her innocence.

She tasted of sunshine and lavender and the combination drove him insane with desire. She burned through his veins like a fire through a tinder box, threatening to ignite his very soul. He skimmed one hand down her skirts, over the slender leg beneath, to the hem. Then he slowly slid the muslin up to find pantalettes that buttoned below the knee. Roaming upward toward her hip and waist, he reached the ribbon that held the garment in place and with a gentle tug, he had the waist band loosened.

“Raise your hips,” he said, wishing to rid her of the offending garment keeping him from giving her what she wanted. When she did, he removed her drawers so it would be easier for him to pleasure her. He slid the soft material down over her stockinged legs, and to protect her modesty, did all this without raising the skirts above her knees.

All he wanted to do now was to touch her. To rouse her to passion with his mouth, bringing her to the pinnacle of ecstasy while pressing into her with his fingers. He wanted to feel her tight passage grip him as she climaxed.

But he had to go slow. For her sake. Even though she had a passion that rivaled that of a wanton mistress, he knew she was still an untried virgin. He wondered what madness had come over him that would make him agree to such foolishness, for his restraint took effort of supreme proportions.

Michael kissed her lips again, this time tasting the wine she’d had. It was sweet and earthy. Like her. He loved the soft little mewling sounds she made as he moved his lips and tongue down the column of her throat feeling the racing pulse throbbing there.

His heart beat faster because of her, and that she felt the same amazed him. Elise reinvigorated in him the desire for sex he’d thought himself past prime for. Especially as his last mistress left him almost two months earlier saying he was boring. It had been a cut to his manhood, and he’d since been without a woman these past weeks.

Before Elise, sex was about getting the release he needed and paying his mistresses’ bills to keep them interested in satisfying him. But this feeling? This was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. Ironic that, until recently, he’d had some of the most talented and eager mistresses his money could buy, and he’d never before cared so much about a woman’s pleasure as did now—with Elise. This had to be love, or he wouldn’t be about to pleasure her knowing there was only a fist waiting for him when he got back to his room.

The lavender scent of her soap enticed him, and while he kissed the soft skin of her neck, he eased the bodice down to expose her small, perfect breasts. Glancing up at her, he saw her eyes were closed and she appeared to concentrate on the sensations he caused for her.

Her tight, pert nipples beckoned his mouth. So as not to frighten her, he placed soft kisses at the tops of her exquisite breasts, then rest his cheek over her heart, feeling it race beneath him. She was frightened, he could feel it, but knowing this woman as he did, he knew she was more curious than afraid. Michael moved to take one sweet, ruched tip between his his lips where he circled it with his tongue and drew on it softly. She groaned as he moved to the other and did the same.

He wished he had her sprawled naked on his bed, and that these damnable garments weren’t between them. One day, he told himself as his hand traveled down over the curve of her hip, the layers of material keeping his hand from feeling the fire in her skin. One day soon he’d have her as he wanted to have her.

As he suckled he slid his hand up the inside of her leg. When he reached the skin above her stockings, she sucked in a breath.

“Michael?” She looked at him with a mix of desperation and confusion.

“Do you want me to stop?” His thumb stroked the tender flesh of her inner thigh, hoping to persuade her to let him continue. He wanted more than anything to ease her desperation tonight. And he couldn’t wait for the day he would show her what they could do together.

“No. I want to know....” Her head fell back and she moaned when his fingers found her curls.

It worked. Her legs fell open for him, and as his mouth loved her breasts, his fingers parted her flesh, and found the slick, aroused treasure hidden within.

She was so very wet, ready, and wanting him. If she were any other woman, he would free himself from his breeches and take what she offered. But she wasn’t just any other woman. This was Elise.

He wanted to savor her, wanted her first climax to come from this most intimate kiss. It would be his gift to her for agreeing to wait to consummate their relationship. If he weren’t in mourning, and if he didn’t want to give her every young girl’s dream wedding, he’d get a special license and marry her tonight.

He broke the kiss and lowered himself to her breasts again, and after loving them for just a moment, he moved lower still. When he pushed her skirts up, she gave a soft squeal.

“Shh... You will enjoy this, Elise. I promise.” He nibbled and traced his lips up the tender flesh of her thighs, her musk intoxicating him more than a bottle of the rarest wine. His fingers parted her and he placed his lips on her tender flesh.

Shocked, Elise tried to back away from him but his hand held her in place. She cried out on a breathless whisper, “Michael!”

“Shh, minx,” he said. “Relax for me.”

He began to stroke her with his tongue forcing a moan from her. Her soft voice energized him, and when her body began to tense under his hand, he slid two fingers into her and felt her grip bear down on them. God, how he wished he were inside her. He hated waiting, but there was a lifetime for loving each other ahead of them.

Then he felt her whole body quiver, and Michael broke away, continuing to stroke her with his thumb as his fingers moved within her, and he watched the gloriousness of her as she climaxed.

Awareness of her first orgasm blossomed in her beautiful eyes like a tree coming into new leaf in the spring, vibrant and lush and full of exciting sensations. It was all hers. And she was all his. She would never share this with another.

Tremors shook her slight frame, as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through her and he ceased moving his fingers, holding her. When she backed away from his hand, he watched as she tried to slow her breathing. He raised himself over her and kissed her, then held her close for a long while until she recovered enough to speak.

“Oh, Michael,” she whispered. “That was... beautiful.”

He smiled in the candle-lit drawing room. “I thought so too, minx,” he said trying to calm his own racing heart.

A
s the young couple left the parlor and wend their way up the stairs to seek their beds, a faithful old retainer standing in the shadows of the upstairs portrait gallery smiled at their backs. This, he would tell the rest of the staff later, was the next Countess Camden, come home to Woodhenge.

C
HAPTER
E
LEVEN

T
he next morning, Elise was up before the rest of the household stirred. Not that she’d slept much. All night she’d relived the extraordinary events of the past evening. She’d hardly slept a wink reliving the sensations, the emotions, the utter magnificence of the act they shared. When Lia arrived, Elise would have to ask if she could speak to her privately. Her sister-in-law had mentioned before that if Elise wanted or needed certain information, Lia would be more than happy to share with her what she knew.

Elise hoped if such information went so far as these intimacies.

As she remembered the evening she again grew angry with herself. She was beyond embarrassed to have forgotten his family was in mourning. In her selfishness she’d pressed him to marry as quickly as possible because of
her
feelings for
him
. She should have remembered his family was mourning the old earl. How could she have said what she had?

Oh, heaven! Elise remembered Michael’s gentle touches and intimate kisses and blushed. She’d always prayed that one day Michael might love her one day. But now she knew beyond all doubt that he loved her. If that wasn’t love she didn’t know what was.

Those were the thoughts racing through her head as she headed down to the stables under the brightening sky. She intended to find a spirited horse and tear across the fields in pursuit of answers. She always found answers on horseback.

Elise strode into the main barn, looking for a groom. Spying one lad mucking a stall, she introduced herself and, after he got over the initial shock of her breeches, boots and fitted riding jacket, she asked him about the available mounts. She told the lad she wanted something with spirit, perhaps in need of schooling. The boy led her to a stall with a big gray filly who stood quietly tied and appeared freshly groomed.

“She ain’t been worked yet,” the freckle-faced lad said. “I was just abou’ to get ’er tacked and work ’er.”

“Wonderful! I shall school her.”

He looked at Elise and asked, “Ye sure ye want te? She don’ know much.”

Elise put her hand before the filly’s nostrils and let the animal sniff. She then stroked the filly’s forehead, then chest, moved to the side, over her neck, and up to her ears. When the filly didn’t flinch at her touch on her ears, Elise smiled.

“Good girl,” she whispered. “We shall have fun today, you and I.” She continued running her hands along the animal’s body, wondering about her barn training. The mare appeared well-handled and gave her feet readily. She didn’t appear to have any swelling or deformities that might preclude a vigorous workout, so Elise turned back to the groom, and they began to discuss the mare’s training to date under saddle. She asked for the mare’s bridle, and when the lad handed it to her, she asked for a different bit. Elise preferred something easier on a young horse’s delicate mouth for schooling. What the filly needed was guidance and training, not punishment for misunderstanding cues.

The young mare snorted, then pawed the ground in anticipation of exercise.

While she was fitting the bridle to the gray, the lad returned with a lady’s saddle. Elise had him take it back. “I won’t need one,” she said, buckling the cheek piece. “I’ll start with her in the paddock and once she’s responding to me, you can open the gate and we’ll go out for a run.”