The Rebel Heir (25 page)

His hands slid over her hips in a gentle caress that was in direct opposition to the harsh kiss they shared and the grind of his hips into hers. She grasped at his body, her fingernails dragging across his back in a fashion that would surely leave marks. She would apologize for that later, but just now she'd lost all control. Years of training had not prepared her for the reality of what courtship led to. There were no controlled smiles or touches, only raw emotion and need. The hard force of his body dragging against hers was overwhelming.

“Ash,” she choked out a moment later against the rough evening stubble of his jaw. She didn't know what she was going to ask, only that his name hung on her lips as if he was the answer.

He lifted his head to look into her eyes and she saw something wild there, matched by the rampant beat of her heart. Releasing his hold on her until her feet were on the floor, he threw the hat she'd forgotten across the box and plunged his hands into her hair, sending pins clattering to the floor around them. She pulled his coat off his shoulders in the next second and let it drop to the floor before stretching up to run her hands over his broad shoulders.

He peered down, eyeing his coat with a dubious expression, before kicking it out to lie like a blanket at their feet. “Perhaps I should have joined you in your bed after all,” he mused.

On a slow, seeking kiss, he gathered her in his arms and knelt on the inside of his coat, holding her in front of him. The soft lining met her knees as her gown billowed around her on the floor.

“I like this better.”

Here he was hers without risk of intrusion from her family. It was odd to feel so secluded and alone with him when half the town was below them waiting for the opera to begin, but at their elevation, only the birds in the rafters above the ornate ceiling could see them. Only with Ash could the floor of a stolen box at the theater become a romantic escape into bliss. He made her dare to live life. His acceptance gave her strength, and yet in his arms she yielded to his touch and allowed herself to be weak. What sort of man caused such a reaction? Only Ash.

She loved this man. Perhaps she'd always known this in some locked-away portion of her heart, but Ash had thrown those doors open. There were no locked doors with him. When had she started to love him? She couldn't find a time or day in her memory when love began, only that it had grown within her wild and free.

“What are you thinking?”

That I love you
, she almost said, but even bravery had its bounds. “Locks and doors,” she muttered.

His hands glided over her body in a heated embrace as he looked into her eyes. “You're safe here with me,” he said, misunderstanding her disjointed thoughts.

“I know.” And with that she began to shimmy her arms out of her gown.

Moments later, her gown had been tossed aside, and Ash had unlaced her stays and stripped off her shift, leaving her kneeling before him in only her stockings. Before she could reach for it, Ash had tossed his shirt aside and returned to her, his hands covering every inch of her exposed skin in turn. She slid her hands over the muscular planes of his chest. A dusting of hair covered his powerful body, tapering down to his hips. Her gaze dropped to watch his hands roam over her bare skin. His thick forearms flexed with almost reverent restraint as he touched her breasts, her waist, her hips.

“Evie,” he whispered as he laid her down on his coat and braced himself over her. “You're perfect like this, tousled hair and no adornment. You don't need jewels to make this neck beautiful.” He trailed his fingers down her breastbone, making her shiver.

His lips followed the same path. He traced a line with his fingers down her stomach with the promise of his lips following in their wake. But when he touched her as he had last night in his carriage, she flinched. Would his mouth follow his fingers even there? Her breaths grew ragged with anticipation of what might be as he nudged her body open for his exploration. She lifted her head, watching the look of wonder and appreciation on Ash's face as he gazed down at her.

It was wrong—the excitement that buzzed through her body at being displayed before him in such a manner—but she wanted to share this with him. She was breaking a long list of rules as she opened to his touch…but someone wise once told her rules were malleable things and would snap back when one was done with them.

Hang the rules, anyway.

He placed a hand on the inside of her thigh and guided her leg to the side, exposing every part of her body for him to see. After a lifetime of being wrapped in pristine gowns, she was fully revealed to him with no adornment. She was free to be anything she wanted, and tonight she wanted to be his. In the next instant his lips were on her as she'd wondered, even hoped, they would be. His mouth did things to her body she didn't think possible, as he first ran his tongue over her in delicious strokes, then drew her close with his lips, and finally invaded her. Plundering and taking everything she offered, he pulled at the last strands of her rational mind. All thought was on what he was doing to her and how she wanted more.

She sank her fingers into his hair, needing to touch him. She pressed into him even while it overwhelmed her, catching her in a torrent of confusing desire with Ash the only source of relief. She shifted and arched beneath him in fretful movements, but he held her still with one hand on her hip. With the other, he… She didn't know what he was doing with his wicked taunts against the most intimate part of her, but she dug her fingers deeper into his hair in a silent plea for more. Then she was shaking beneath him as he coaxed her over the edge into pleasure as he had last night with his words—only now he spoke silently with his lips, his hands, his tongue flicking against her until she couldn't hold on any longer.

A moment later he was still caressing her with the backs of his fingers as she lay before him both satisfied and yet starved for more. Would she ever have enough of this man to be sated?

He ran his lips down the inside of her thigh to her knee, the slight stubble on his face scraping against her sensitive skin and sending shivers up her spine. He took a playful bite at the inside of her knee and began to move back up her leg with slow scratches of his chin and soothing kisses leading the way.

He slid back up her entire body that way, hard planes against soft, rough skin against smooth. The dark, intent look in his eyes would have frightened her even a week ago, but now she wanted the same thing he did. This was the man that she loved, and there was nothing to fear with him. The delicious friction of the hair on his chest against her breasts made her curl into his body. Her knee came up to cradle his hip, dragging against the fabric of his breeches. She wanted to touch him as he had her, to feel the heat of his skin against her entire body. She wasn't certain what to do, but it began with the removal of his clothing.

Reaching between them, she trailed her fingers down the ridges of his stomach, then grabbed the waist of his breeches. Her fingers dipped into the top edge of the already taut fabric, making Ash flinch above her, his arms tensing on either side of her head.

Even though she was enjoying the tickle of his hair against her knuckles, perhaps she wasn't doing this properly. She'd never removed a gentleman's clothing before, after all. She required assistance to dress—perhaps he was the same. She slid her other hand over the bulging fabric, searching for the buttons that must hold his clothing on somehow. Ash pushed into her grasp, and the entire bulge pulsed beneath her hand. She froze, her eyes flashing to Ash's in alarm. But he only raised a brow at her as if she should have expected such a thing to happen.

She hadn't expected such a thing to happen. She hadn't expected any of this, but now that she was here, she wanted more.

Returning to her work, she discovered the secret to removing a gentleman's breeches was, in fact, all in the wrist. Ash grew more and more still by slow degrees the longer she worked on the fall of his breeches. He twitched beneath her knuckles when she grazed his skin, but remained otherwise frozen. Watching her with a dark, almost pained expression, he waited for her to finish. When the fabric of his breeches lost the battle to her persistent fingers, she blinked at the length of him that she'd released.

She looked up and met Ash's gaze.

“If you want to touch me, you can,” he rasped.

With a tiny nod she placed her fingers against the length of him and skated her hand down over the surface. Lifting a curious gaze to Ash's face again, she watched his expression as she curled her fingers around him. His breaths were harsh and he looked at her as if he might perish at any moment, but he didn't move away. She tested her boundaries with him and moved her hand over him as he'd touched her in the carriage.

Ash groaned and bent his head to her bare shoulder, but did nothing to stop her exploration. She slid her hand over him again, this time dragging her thumb over the tip of him. He groaned louder at that and bit at the fleshy part of her shoulder. His lips trailed up the side of her neck now, as if poised to inflict punishment if she dared to continue.

She dared, and he sucked at the base of her neck until she squirmed beneath him in response. Releasing him, she trailed her hands over his hips and up his back. He was hers to enjoy tonight. She'd wished for this for so long without knowing what exactly she was wishing for.

She moved her hands down his back, beneath his now-loose breeches, and grabbed entire handfuls of his quality bum. She'd have to tell Isabelle about it later. Or perhaps not, since this was rather incriminating.

She wanted more of him. The way he covered her body yet still held himself braced on his arms above her was infuriating. She spread her fingers over his skin and grabbed him again, this time pulling herself up to meet his chest. The length of him pressed heavily against the core of her body. The sensation was thrilling. She couldn't look away from the heavy-lidded desire in his eyes.

“Evie,” he warned. He pulled his hips away from her, and she dropped back to the floor. That was when she noticed his arms were shaking. “I hadn't intended on things going this far. I didn't bring you here to…”

“I know you didn't.” She released her hold on his backside to trace the lines of muscles that began at his hips and stretched up his sides.

He took a ragged breath and looked in her eyes. “I've stolen a great many things, swindled wealth away from unsuspecting gentlemen.” His voice rasped as if his words came at a great cost. “I've done large amounts of wrong in my life, but I won't steal this from you.” He lowered a hand to cover the core of her body where it still hummed from his efforts. “I won't take you unless you want it.”

Was he asking if she wanted this to end? She didn't ever want this to end.

She wanted to wake at his side every day and find herself in this exact place by nightfall, but perhaps on a bed instead of the floor of a London theater. She rocked into the palm of his hand. “I want it,” she assured him, wishing she could explain how much, but knowing this wasn't the time for such talk. “I want you, Ash Claughbane. Steal me away. Swindle me. I'm yours.”

He exhaled with what she thought might be gratitude and moved his hand to her hip. Her grip on him tightened, willing him to stay with her and lead her into the unknown. His gaze met hers and held her there as he rocked her hips up and entered her in one quick motion. She couldn't move—the contact she'd craved now had her pinned beneath him. Had he pierced through to her heart? It was possible. His body was pressed against hers as he filled her, covered her, surrounded her. She'd tensed and bit her lip as her body stretched in ways she'd never imagined. The pain that was rumored among ladies was overshadowed by the excitement of finally possessing every bit of the man she loved. She wanted to share this with him.

As if he could read her thoughts—and with the way he was watching her, perhaps he could—he moved his hand over her hip, encouraging her to relax and trust him. “I won't hurt you again, Evie.”

“You aren't going to stop, are you?”

He only chuckled in response as he withdrew and drove into her again. This time there was no pain. Somehow knowing she'd recovered from the initial shock of his intrusion, he changed his rhythm against her. Her body became more and more pliable in his hands as she now arched to meet him. The sheer power of his body mixed with something lighter—fun and rebellious—into a potent concoction of need, driving her steadily forward into pleasure-filled darkness.

She clung to him as she moved into a world she didn't know or understand, trusting he would show her everything there was to see. Everything around her crackled with the fire that burned brightly between them as she reached for some unnamed peak. She would surely perish if she didn't reach the point he was steering her toward. But then she was pulling him closer as she fell into a boneless heap beneath him. The bond that seemed to tie them together in that moment made her eyes prickle with the heat of tears. She loved him, and right now he was hers. He stilled in her, watching her spiral down from the heights he had pushed her to.

Eyes sparkling with mischief, he lifted her from the floor and pulled her with him as he leaned against the wall. She blinked at the sudden change, realizing she now straddled him, her hands landing on his shoulders and her knees on either side of his hips.

“It's not over?” she whispered.

“Hardly. You're mine, remember?” He sucked at her neck as his hands held her hips steady on him. “I'm not done swindling pleasure from you.”

He flexed his hips off the coat-covered floor in a quick motion that drove him deeper into her body, daring her to play his game. Her breath caught at the new sensation of their position and she clutched his shoulders in response.

A pleased grin tugged at the corners of his mouth as he guided her hips over him for a minute. The pace was too restrained and she couldn't handle it, surging forward. He was watching her move on him, a look of awe on his face. He mouthed something without sound that might have been either
love you
or
look at you
, she wasn't certain, but she didn't spare it any thought as she stole her pleasure from his body.