The Princess and the Peer (38 page)

N
ick sank into their embrace, her kisses like a homecoming. Having her in his arms was heaven, a benediction that searched out all the dark, empty spaces inside him and filled them with light. Until that moment, he hadn’t realized just how desolate he’d been, as if he’d been holding his breath all these weeks and only now was able to breathe again.

Emma kissed him back, her lips moving with warm purpose over his own, her hands clutching his shoulders to hold him near.

He moaned and drew her tighter, his arousal pressed hard against her stomach. Aching to touch her, all of her, he stroked the sleek arch of her spine before roaming downward to cup the rounded curve of her bottom in a wide, appreciative palm.

She was the one to moan this time, the sound reverberating between them with raw, hungry need. Spurred on by the sound, he kissed her with a fierce possession that made the world tilt.

He was reaching to unfasten the buttons on the back of her gown when a dull bang echoed in the distance, as if someone had slammed a door somewhere inside the house.

He paused and so did she, the two of them growing suddenly
still. His gaze locked with the velvety blue of her eyes, her breath soughing in little pants from between her parted lips.

He wasn’t in much better shape than she, his muscles trembling with the force of his desire. Giving his head an abrupt shake, he tried to clear some of the hazy passion from his brain. “You make me lose my head,” he murmured in her ear.

“You make me lose mine too.”

“I suppose I should take you back to your room,” he said reluctantly.

“Hmm, I suppose so,” she sighed in resignation.

Yet neither of them made any effort to end their embrace.

“Of course, it might be better for you to stay here for a while,” he mused. “We wouldn’t want to risk getting caught by whoever it is roaming the corridors.”

“No, that could be disastrous.” She smiled, then stretched up on her toes to press quick, drowsy kisses to his mouth, her touch as delicate and delicious as butterfly wings. “I think I should definitely stay. Don’t you?”

He shuddered, a tremor chasing down his spine, straight to his shaft. “Yes.”

Yanking her higher against him, he ravished her lips, thrusting his tongue into her mouth in a rhythm that mimicked what he wanted to do in other places and with other parts of his body. He made quick work of the buttons on her dress, then began freeing the laces of her stays.

Suddenly desperate to touch her bare flesh, he pushed down the bodice of her dress and found her breasts, fondling one, then the other, through the thin material of her linen shift. She squirmed and whimpered, her nipples turning to sharp points beneath his questing fingers.

Time spiraled outward on invisible ribbons, entwining them in a haze so scorching it was a wonder neither of them were burned. Despite the careful amount of wine he’d consumed earlier, his head swam as if he were drunk.

And perhaps I am,
he thought hazily.
Drunk on happiness
and love and passion.
God knows he wanted her, his shaft hard and aching where it strained insistently against the buttons of his falls.

He hadn’t touched a woman since he’d lain with Emma.

The first time.

The only time.

But he didn’t want another woman.

Only her.

Now and forever.

She is mine,
he thought, dappling her skin with kisses.

Mine to love.

Mine to possess until death us do part.

They may not have taken the actual marriage vows yet, but to him she was already his wife and no man would ever keep them apart again.

She must have agreed, because her small hands slid underneath his shirt to find the flat expanse of skin and hair just above his waistband. He drew in his stomach on an unsteady gasp, his arousal giving a maddened throb.

Bending, he swept her high into his arms and carried her to the bed.

Emma let him peel the clothes from her body, then lay naked against the sheets, her long hair flowing in a cascade over the pillows. Nick had pulled the pins free, tossing them haphazardly after her dress, stays, and petticoats.

With an appreciative gaze, she watched him strip off his own clothing. His dexterous hands worked quickly, untying his neckcloth and unbuttoning his waistcoat before he yanked his shirt unceremoniously over his head to expose the glorious breadth of his powerful shoulders, muscular chest, and long, sinewy arms. He kicked off his shoes and rolled his stockings free. His fingers went to his evening breeches where his heavy erection pushed so forcefully against his black silk falls it was a wonder the buttons hadn’t already popped loose. In a few efficient movements, he was as naked as she, although nothing like her in form at all.

She shivered, but not with the nervous uncertainty she had
experienced during their first time together. She knew what awaited her, her inner muscles clenching as her body grew slick with anticipation for the pleasure to come.

She saw his shaft jerk when he caught her looking, his arousal thrusting eagerly forward as if begging for her touch. Without thinking, she reached up and curled her fingers around him. His flesh pulsed inside her grasp, his hips arching as if to demonstrate what he wanted.

Instinctively, she complied, stroking the length of his thick, heavy erection, his shaft hard yet velvety smooth and warm. So warm it seemed as if he might have a fever.

And perhaps she did as well. Her skin was overheated, her cheeks burning, as blood surged through her veins in swift, almost wild beats.

Nick’s eyes closed and he groaned, his hand closing gently over hers to guide her in a more expert rhythm. She stroked him, enjoying the undisguised pleasure on his face.

Then, quite without warning, he pulled her hand away and came down beside her in the bed. Dragging her into his arms, he took her mouth, his kisses deep, hungry, and unapologetically rapacious.

Weaving her fingers into his clean, soft hair, she yielded to the power and beauty of his touch, every kiss, each caress, more wonderful than the last.

Enslaved was the only way to describe how she felt as his hands moved over her in long, tantalizing sweeps—from nape to breast, stomach to thigh, and all the way down to her feet. Each new circuit built her need a little higher, her legs restless, body aching as he played his palms over her in blazing circles that drove her half mad with longing. Breath hitched in her lungs and her thoughts spun away, her mind fuzzy and sure of nothing but following Nick’s command.

His kisses grew slower and more intense before his lips left hers to repeat the path set by his hands. He wandered from pleasure point to pleasure point, pausing to pay special homage to her breasts in a way that made keening cries erupt from her throat.

He smiled against the smooth, flat plane of her stomach, then moved on, showering her with tormenting little licks and nips and kisses as he went. Continuing his exploration, he moved lower, over her hips and thighs, then on to her feet.

Sliding his wide palm over one of her quivering calves, he caught her leg in his hand and bent it at the knee, then to one side to expose her to more of his touch.

Full-body shudders racked her frame as he slid a finger inside her, her exquisitely sensitive inner flesh tightening wetly around him. He added another finger and began to stroke.

Her hips arched off the mattress in a way that pushed him in past his knuckles. Taking hold of her other thigh with his free hand, he opened her wide so that she lay at his complete and total mercy.

Then his mouth found her, but not where she expected. Her eyes flew wide as he suckled intently her tender, throbbing flesh. As for his fingers, they remained lodged inside her, stroking her with devastating purpose.

Her mind went curiously blank, her senses barely able to take in the shock of the act, or the waves of stunning pleasure that assailed her body. Somehow she found the strength to throw her arm over her mouth to muffle the cries that issued from her throat. The world spun around her in a crazy tempest that threatened to shake her apart from the inside out.

And suddenly she did come apart, shattering in deep, convulsive spasms that left her floating on a cloud of pure, profound delight.

But Nick didn’t leave her time to savor a gentle glide back down to earth as he rose above her and thrust himself inside.

Last time there had been an initial stab of pain when he’d taken her virginity. But now there was only a sense of delicious fullness and pleasurable need. For, in spite of the satisfaction still humming through her veins as effervescent as sparkling wine, she wanted him again. She desired him with an urgency that went beyond the physical into the realm of the soul.

She needed him, all of him, in a way that knew no bounds. Some might say that such a connection was impossible, but she knew better. Knew that of all the men in the world, he was the only one who could make her feel as she did. The only man who could bring her a love that few women would ever hope to experience. In that moment, she realized that he was her perfect match—physically, emotionally, spiritually, in all ways there could be. The two of them were halves of a whole, formed by God and nature for just this purpose.

Then he began to move inside her in heavy, penetrating strokes and she forgot all about such ethereal wanderings. Determined to be as close to him as possible, she wrapped her arms and legs tight and urged him deeper still.

With a heartfelt groan, he complied, moving in sure, swift strokes that sent her flying.

But he had one last surprise in store as he suddenly braced the two of them together, then rolled onto his back, carrying her along so that she was on top. Her wide eyes met the lambent intensity of his gaze, seeing her own raging desire reflected back.

“I love you,” he said, his voice throaty with emotion. “So much, Emma. So very, very much.” His hands glided over her shoulders and down her spine, then around so they came to rest on her hips. “Tell me again that you love me.”

“I do,” she vowed. “More than you may ever know.”

“Then show me, love,” he said, shifting her hips with his hands so that she knew how he meant for her to move. “Show me, my beautiful, darling Emmaline.”

And she did, catching on to the rhythm with an adeptness that earned her enthusiastic kisses and ragged moans of praise. Then neither of them could speak, her body reaching for its peak while beneath her Nick did the same.

Her strength faltered at the last, but it didn’t matter, Nick taking command as he thrust inside her in fast, hard strokes that drove her to the edge of madness, then over into a soaring flight of blissful abandon.

He followed moments later, shaking violently as he
claimed his pleasure with a hoarse shout that he muffled with a last savage kiss on her lips. She swallowed the sound, love shimmering like a rich, golden light inside her.

Smiling, she sank exhausted and replete across him, safe in the knowledge that whatever the future might bring, everything would be all right so long as they were together.

Nick awakened Emma about an hour before dawn. After lighting a candle, he retrieved her discarded undergarments and gown from the floor, then helped her dress. By mutual agreement, he left the laces of her stays loose so she could slip easily out of the garment once she was back inside her bedchamber.

For himself, he pulled on a pair of fawn superfine trousers, a freshly laundered white shirt, and a jacket.

“We need to get you back before you are missed,” he said, handing her one of his silver-backed brushes so she could set her hair to rights. Once her tresses flowed like a smooth golden river along her back, he gathered all her hairpins and slid them into a handkerchief for her to carry back to her room.

Taking her gently in his arms, he gave her a last, lingering kiss, careful not to abrade her skin with the growth of morning bristles now shadowing his cheeks. “Ready?” he asked.

She nodded. “I wish I didn’t have to leave you. Are you sure we shouldn’t elope, after all? I could pack a valise and we could be on our way within the hour.”

“As tempting as that sounds, I would like to do the honorable thing by you rather than stealing away like a thief. Your brother seems like a reasonable man; perhaps he’ll surprise you.”

Emma held her tongue, no more convinced of that likelihood than before. He kissed her again, slow and sweet, leaving her wishing even more that they had the freedom to simply crawl back into his bed.

At length, he let her go, sighing at the necessity. “I suppose we shouldn’t plan to spend the night together again until
we are married. Too many chances of being caught.” His palm slid down to the curve of her bottom and pressed her closer. “I don’t know how I’m going to keep my hands off you.”

“Nor I you.”

His mouth took hers again, claiming her one last time. “Hmm,” he groaned as he eased away. “I believe I ought to give you fair warning that I plan on a very long honeymoon. I may not let you out of bed for month.”

“Will that be enough time? Maybe we should plan on two months?” she said, skimming a fingertip over his lower lip.

He laughed and gave her finger a playful nip with his teeth. “Come on,” he said, catching her hand fully inside his own. “We dare not delay any longer.”

He cracked the door open a fraction of an inch and listened to make sure the hallway beyond was silent.

“No talking,” he warned softly. “No one should be awake yet, but you never know.”

Leading the way, Nick pulled Emma into the corridor and started the journey to her bedchamber. They reached the door to her room without mishap, the house as dark and slumbering as each of them had hoped.

After a last glance in both directions, Nick gave her a swift, hard kiss. “Go back to sleep. I shall see you later today.”

“I love you,” she whispered.

“I love you too.”

Reaching out, he turned the doorknob and urged her inside. She went on stealthy feet, closing the door soundlessly at her back.