Chapter 30

"I didn't want to run away last time," she heard him say, nearing her dangerously. "I was afraid…"

"And now?" she asked, her breathing hitching in her throat.

"Not anymore," he smiled, taking her hands in his. "Touch me, Cate… I want your hands on me. I want your lips on mine. I've been dreaming of nothing else but you…"

She couldn't bear to listen to him any longer. Desire completely took over any semblance of logic and reason. She crashed her lips against his, demanding everything of him. Her trembling hands pressed against his muscular chest. She felt his hands wrap around her waist, pulling her closer into himself. His body yearned for hers. She knew that feeling well.

His tongue danced with hers, twirling. He tasted so deliciously masculine. She couldn't believe that they had reached that point, to be alone together, to be unrestrained, to belong to each other. He kept kissing with both tenderness and ferocity, as the two kept substituting one moment after the other. She had no idea what to expect, and that made everything all the more titillating.

He tenderly undid the belt of her robe, allowing it to drop down to the ground, leaving her in nothing but a thin, transparent nightgown. She blushed in the darkness, but she didn't feel uncomfortable. In fact, nothing felt more natural being with him. He gently stepped forward, forcing her to move backward.

When she felt the chaise lounge behind her, she stopped, but he gently lowered her onto it. Their lips tore apart, ending their kiss. She mourned the lack of her lips on his, trembling before his gaze. He gently used his knee to spread her legs apart. Then he went down before her, not taking his eyes off of her for a single moment. Then, his fingers started to pool her nightgown around her waist, first revealing her calves, then her thighs.

"What are you doing?" she murmured dreamily.

"Shhh," he said with a voice that sent a million goosebumps up and down her body. "Allow me to apologize for being an oaf, for not treating you the way you deserve from the moment we met."

"Oh…" That was all she could muster, as he pulled the last remaining part of the fabric, revealing her most intimate flesh.

Somehow, despite all logic, she was not embarrassed, nor was she nervous about being so vulnerable, so exposed. There was only a sense of righteousness about being as she was before this man, as she waited for him to do whatever he wanted with her. His fingers relinquished the fabric from their grip, gently trailing up her inner thighs, spreading her legs a little more apart.

"I have waited so long to taste you…" he murmured even more softly and she barely heard him.

Then she felt him. His tongue gently flicked over her swollen bud with tender precision. Lightning inside of her tore her vision in two. She had to close her eyes. That was the only way to control this delicious onslaught of sensations washing over her. His tongue worked slowly at first, licking, sucking, then the pressure intensified. Barely noticeable at first, but she could tell. Her entire body was awash with senses, brought to the brim so easily.

She looked down, blushing. His eyes were aimed up at her, while his mouth was hidden. How carnal the sight was. She couldn't look away even if she wanted to. His dark hair fell over his forehead, his eyes wide in the candlelight.

He pacified the rhythm, introducing his finger into the game. She could feel him strumming her flower like a finely tuned instrument. She couldn't resist any longer. She took a handful of his hair and gripped at him tightly, gently.

"Oh…" she moaned loudly this time, biting her lower lip as she did so.

"Do you like that?" she heard him ask, as he withdrew his tongue from her, leaving only his finger, entering her little by little, as she listened to that wet sound.

"Yes…" she managed to muster, opening her eyes and locking them with his once again.

That was when he continued with more fervor than before. His tongue slid inside of her, tasting her, owning her. His finger took over, while his tongue gently sucked on her swollen pearl. He was playing with her, tormenting her with desire. He knew exactly what he was doing to her. She couldn't control herself any longer.

The sensation washed over her like an explosion of warmth from the very core of her body. Her entire body clenched. Her thigh pressed around him, keeping him in place. The palpitations sent her over the edge and it took her several moments to pacify, to float back down onto the earth, on the chaise lounge, where her body was still trembling. She could heart her heart beat inside her ears and she knew exactly what that was.

He pulled away, his lips glistening with her need for him. He was grinning. Before she could say anything, he leaned over to her and kissed her. There was nothing more carnal, or rawer that she had ever experienced, and it was all because of him.

Tenderly, he kissed both of her thighs, then rolled down her nightgown. He offered her his hand, pulling her up to her feet. She wobbled a little, and he wrapped his arm around her waist. She inhaled the scent of him, becoming dizzy all over again.

"Are you all right?" he asked, smiling.

"Yes, yes," she nodded hastily. "Just… this…"

"This?" he chuckled.

"Yes, this," she couldn't help but join in.

"Did you like it?" he asked mischievously.

"I… loved it," she admitted, blushing.

"Good," he murmured, kissing her on the forehead. "Now, off to bed with you."

To be honest, she didn't want to end the night, not yet. She was still awash in all the sensations he had left her with. But a moment later, she yawned, pressing her hand to her lips.

"See?" he chuckled. "You need to rest, my dear."

This time, she didn't correct him. "All right," she smiled back, giving him a peck on the lips. "But this… is not over yet."

He winked at her. "I am counting on that."

She slowly put her robe on and waltzed out of the library, heading back to her bedchamber. She doubted she would fall asleep, but he was once again right. Slumber took over the moment her cheek felt the cool side of her pillow and she didn't stir until the very morning.

***

Dominic couldn't remember the last time he slept so soundly. He knew why that was so. He felt that a new chapter had just opened up with Catherine.

Cate…

He smiled. She didn't say anything when he called her Cate or my dear. Yes, there were still many things left to sort out. Annabel and Rosie were still missing, but Dominic was optimistic. Now that he had Cate by his side, he felt invincible; he felt like he could take on the world.

He quickly got dressed, descending the grand staircase, his steps light with the anticipation of a new day. He entered the dining hall, only to see that Catherine was already sitting at the table, a delicate porcelain teacup cradled in her hands, her eyes alight with mischief.

"Good morning," he greeted her with a warm smile, crossing the room to press a tender kiss to her cheek. Much to his delight, she tilted her head a little, making it easier for him.

"Good morning, Your Grace," she replied playfully, her voice a soft melody that danced through the air.

"Your Grace?" he repeated mischievously. He liked that.

"Of course," she nodded. "Isn't it a glorious day? The sun has risen with such promise." She paused there to take a sip of her tea, not taking her eyes off of him even for a single second.

She had that same look from the previous night, when she grabbed his hair and kept him in place, between her thighs. He could still remember her moans, the way her body trembled when lost in the throes of ecstasy. He couldn't wait to feel himself inside of her wet heat, to take her and make her his completely, in every way possible. The thought awakened his manhood with a thundering roar. That night, he wanted to take it one step further.

"It is a glorious day indeed," he agreed, taking his seat opposite her at the table. "Though I must confess, the true radiance of this morning lies in your presence."

A playful glint sparkled in her eyes as she raised an eyebrow in mock disbelief. "Flattery, Your Grace?"

He loved this little game they were playing. He chuckled. "Only when the inspiration strikes. And last night's inspiration lingers still."

A fervent blush painted her cheeks as she hid her smile behind her teacup. "You do have a way with words."

"And you have a way of making every moment unforgettable," he murmured, his gaze filled with adoration.

They both seemed to be lulled into the safety of their blissful morning, as the rest of the world faded away into oblivion. He felt as if he could remain there with her, without any need to venture out beyond the confines of those four walls. However, reality had a way of intruding in the most blissful of moments and now was no exception to that rule.

Just as she was about to say something, a knock on the door made them both turn in that direction.

"Yes?" he called out, as they both awaited.

His butler, Jones, appeared, bowing as he stood in the doorway. "I beg your pardon, Your Grace, but Lord Stanhope is here, and he asks to be admitted urgently."

Catherine's eyes widened in shock. "Reginald?"

"Do show him in, Jones," Dominic nodded, feeling a sudden and unexpected wave of concern. Something must have happened for Catherine's brother to appear so early in the morning, without calling ahead.

Jones disappeared, closing the door behind him. Dominic locked eyes with Catherine.

"Do you think something happened?" she asked, her voice trembling. She had forgotten all about her tea at that point.

He knew that she wanted him to be honest with her, but that would only concern her further. Besides, they would find out what her brother wanted to tell them shortly. Why make her even more agitated than she already was?

"I don't know, Cate," he said softly. "But whatever it is, we will deal with it together… as a family."

He could see the look of gratitude in those beautiful eyes and he knew that he had made the right choice in telling her exactly how he felt about this sudden intrusion into their peaceful morning. Several moments later, the door opened again and Reginald Stanhope entered, looking disheveled, as if he had not even combed himself, but rather got up, got dressed and headed straight over there.

Catherine got up instantly, rushing over to him. "Reggie, is something the matter?" she fluttered like a bottled butterfly around him.

Dominic followed suit and got up as well, waiting to see what Reginald would share with them.

"I… I'm sorry that I'm interrupting your breakfast," Reginald said, raking his fingers through his hair nervously. "But I wanted to come straight here, without delay."

"Of course," Dominic took over, his voice a peaceful harbor for both his wife and her brother, as that seemed to be exactly what they needed. "Why don't you sit down and tell us what happened, so we can sort it out?"

"I can't sit down," Reginald hastily shook his head.

Dominic could see a troubled man when he saw one. And now, there was one right before him. He wondered if he should perhaps ask Catherine to leave the room. If the news was something terrible, it was not for the ears of a lady. However, he knew that she would take it as an offence, and not as him trying to shelter her from a harsh reality. She was strong, his Cate. He knew that much.

"I… received a letter this morning," Reginald finally divulged the truth.

"What letter?" Dominic asked.

Reginald fumbled in his pocket, then extracted a folded envelope. "Here," he offered.

Dominic quickly grabbed it, opened it, and skimmed through the contents. As soon as he did so, his heart sank. He looked up at Catherine; her face pale with worry.

"What is it?" she asked. "You're both scaring me."

Dominic hesitated, exchanging a meaningful glance with Reginald, only to look back at her again. "It is… a blackmail letter."