Chapter 29

Twenty-Nine

CADIEUX HOUSE, LONDON - JUNE 16, 1816

CELINE

He prowled up my body, cat-like in his grace. It was without a doubt the single most erotic view of my entire life. This man, all sharp, lithe, corded muscles, with chiseled cheekbones shining in the candlelight from my offerings, slid up my form with an expression that very much said he was not finished feasting.

I would not soon forget it.

His lips found mine and all I could taste was me. All the tentative softness was gone, in its place a worshipful confidence. Well-earned confidence—I wasn't certain my legs would regain feeling ever again. That was perfectly all right. I was never leaving this bed anyway.

When he pulled away for the benefit of my breathing rather than any particular desire to do so if the heat in his eyes was any indication, I wiped away the last of my spendings from his lips. He caught my wrist in a tender gesture and pressed a kiss to my pounding pulse.

"Who… are you?" I panted.

"What do you mean?"

"You've just killed me. I am dead. This is heaven. I thought you said you had little experience."

"I do. That was the first time I've done that." He had never… How?

"You're a savant… Also, you live here now."

"Already live here, love."

"In this bed. I'll tie you here if need be."

His answering smile was infectious, and he pressed a gentle kiss to my nose. "If 'm tied to the bed, what'll I eat?" His hand found my entrance at the exact moment he finished the sentence, leaving absolutely no doubt of what he intended to eat.

Summoning all the strength I had managed to regain after he wrung it from my body, I curled a leg around his hips without warning and rolled him over onto his back.

As he lay prostrate before me, I caught his hands and pinned them above his head before he could regain my newfound control.

Dipping down, I pressed a kiss, nearly as gentle as the ones he'd bestowed on me, to the gray-green bruise marring his ribs, just below his heart.

His eyes burned blue in response, that shade where flame met candlewick and was just as bright. Brighter even, when paired with the affectionate crinkles at the corners of his eyes. The crinkles I was slowly coming to realize were reserved for me. For when I did something he found charming, or amusing, or arousing, or loving. Those crinkles were at their best when I did something that made him feel loved—like right in this moment.

If there had been any doubt of his feelings for me, that look would have banished them. No one could adopt that expression of awe, reverence, astonishment, and wonder without the sentiment behind it. Surely men looked upon angels with less adoration.

It was a heady thing, being the recipient of such an expression. It filled me with a confidence I hadn't known in so long. I hovered over him, just out of his reach, curtaining us beneath my hair.

Teasing him, I brushed my lips across his—a breeze rather than a kiss. He made a valiant effort to chase my lips while still abiding to the shackles of my hands around his wrists.

His upper arms strained against my pitiful bonds, tensing and releasing in the most intriguing of ways. I had no idea that all of this was underneath those stodgy woolen waistcoats and scratchy linen shirts. He shifted slightly under my perusal, drawing my attention back to his impossibly warm eyes and unbearably soft lips.

I settled back onto my knees and released his wrists. The movement brought me in perfect alignment with the hardness threatening to escape his trousers. A stark reminder of the fact that, while I was more than sated—though rapidly regaining interest—he had not been.

I braced myself, my hands on his cool, slate chest. Careful to avoid the bruises earned in defense of me, my fingertips ghosted over wiry, corded muscles, divots, and peaks, each just as sharp and steep as his cheeks and jaw. He tensed and relaxed in rhythm beneath me, clearly desperate for more but unwilling or unable to ask for it.

"What do you want, William?"

"I…"

"Do you want me to taste you? Do you want me to ride you? Do you want me clawing at your back from beneath you? Tell me what you want, and it's yours." His pupils dilated, swallowing all of the blue until all that was left were fathomless black depths.

"Yes," he choked out.

"Yes, what?"

"All of it."

He earned a kiss for that. His hands, now free from their imaginary prison, banded about my waist and fisted in my hair.

"You have to pick one. I'm not flexible enough to manage all three at once."

"Above me, where you belong, Aphrodite."

"I don't know about that. But I'm happy to oblige."

"Goddess."

There was a moment, however brief, where I considered simply… not uttering the question, however necessary it was. Where I just let fate, or God, or the gods, or nature decide.

But it was not my choice to make, not alone, and not without vows. "Do you… you will let me know when it is time? So there are no… surprises."

He considered my words with all the severity they were due, regardless of their vagueness. Shifting beneath me, seeming to test his resolve. "Yes, I… yes." He pulled my lips down to his, pressing them simply, earnestly, against my own.

I settled back, resting on his thighs, working on the falls of his trousers. I had a suspicion that what I would find under there would be thoroughly distracting. So distracting that I would never get his trousers off if I didn't remove them entirely before sitting back to admire him. I forced myself to slide to the side, yanking them all the way and flinging them elsewhere.

Obstacles gone, I settled back into my spot resting on hard thighs to admire. I was no blushing debutant, but I felt it now. He was hard and proud, and I was suddenly, achingly empty.

"You cannot look at me like that and expect this to last for more than a few seconds," Will groaned.

My gaze found his. He wore a hungry expression that was entirely reflective of my own need. Bending down, I offered him what I intended as a gentle kiss. He had other ideas. His tongue slid along mine, becoming downright filthy with ease.

This man… This man who had been infuriating me, saving me, cherishing me, pushing me, arousing me, loving me from the moment we met. This man who took me apart, piece by piece in this very bed mere moments ago… Oh, I was going to destroy him. I was going to send him to the same euphoria he sent me to.

I pulled away, running my hand up and down his length a few times, twisting on the end for good measure while he cursed and thrust to meet me.

"Yes?" I asked, waiting for his clenched eyes to open and meet mine.

"Yes, love—Always, yes." Permission granted, I lifted myself, more awkwardly than I wished, overtop him. He caught my hip in one hand, steadying me, as I sank down, down, down on him.

Breath left us both, my lungs refusing to cooperate, while his worked too well. After a moment, air came back to me and I rocked gently forward and up, back and down. That movement earned me another curse and Will's free hand pulling me forward.

Our lips crashed together. He used teeth and tongue and that full lower lip to convey all the emotions I wasn't quite ready to hear aloud. There was no doubt though, what he meant. Admiration, adoration, lust, love, all poured through his lips to mine. My hips stuttered at the overwhelm of it all, but his hand tightened on my waist, adjusting the rhythm.

A peak was building again, one I hadn't thought to expect. Certainly not after the one I just had, but it was growing, overfilling with his feelings and my own. Higher and higher with each thrust, his free hand found my bud between us, pressing against it in a way that left me shattered without warning.

I collapsed atop him, boneless and sated and heaving great gulps of air. Lost in another world entirely. Seconds, minutes, hours, years later, I found myself sprawled above his cool chest, his member still hard inside me.

Languidly, I rose off him and slid down his form, and swallowed him down. He was too much for me to take in his entirety, and I caught the rest of his hardness in my hand. It took mere seconds before he was babbling words of adoration, encouragement, and curses mixed with groans. His hands threaded through my hair, directing my rhythm, still exceedingly gentle.

"Celine, love, I'm going to…"

I didn't care. Not anymore. I wanted it.

I met his gaze and he cursed above me before his release filled my mouth. After swallowing, I crawled back to my place on top of his chest and curled against him. Somehow even now, damp with perspiration, he was cooler than I was. His body was a soothing balm against my own.

I rose and fell with his heavy breaths. His hand, still tangled in my hair, extricated itself and began the impossible process of smoothing out the snarls.

Eventually my breathing returned to something close to normal and I made to move off him. His arm tightened around my waist, pinning me in place.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"A few inches to the left?" I asked, propping my chin on his chest to peer up at him.

"Right here is perfect."

"I'm crushing you."

"You couldn't crush me if you tried. Stay."

"But…"

"Stay, love. Not ready for you to be that far." There it was again, that little crinkle in his eyes that said " I love you " without saying a word. And somehow, his protests made perfect sense. Pressed along his side, a few inches to the left, was much too far away.

I made his wish come true, sprawling out across his chest like a star, purposefully taking as much space as possible.

"Charming," he murmured.

"You adore me."

"Not the word I would have chosen, but yes."

"How do you feel? About everything?"

"Feeling lots of things… adoration as mentioned. A surprising amount of lust considering I may never regain feeling in my lower extremities. Other things I promised not to say until you're ready to hear them."

"No regrets?" It wasn't until I gave voice to the question that I recognized the tightness in my lower spine for the anxiousness that it was. He'd waited years for this moment. A moment he almost certainly planned to have with Adriane. I wasn't sure I would recover if he regretted having it with me—now—instead.

He pressed a kiss to the top of my head. "No, love. A few moments there, I was wishing I had a bit more experience, that I knew how to make it good for you. But I wouldn't be anywhere else."

I propped my chin on his chest. "It was good for me. It was incredible."

I felt more than heard his chuckle. "Know that, love. Nearly yanked all my hair out enjoying yourself."

"Sorry…"

"Don't be. Turns out I like that."

"What else do you like?"

"Everything. As you well know. Did you— do you like everything?" There was an unasked question behind the words. A vulnerability I wished to soothe. It was not a case of better or worse than Gabriel, but different. A different time, a different place, a different set of circumstances, and most significantly of all, I was not the same girl I had been.

"I loved it." His eyes—closer to navy now—widened, reading the significance in my phrasing. "I'm not ready to say it, not just yet. But I…"

"You're all right hearing it?" I nodded, my chin resting atop my folded arms on his chest. "I love you, Celine." It slipped from him in a rush, as if the words were all that was keeping him filled. Now that they were free, he could collapse into the bed beneath him and watch me with soft, loving eyes.

I pressed a kiss to his heart in answer, resting my head above where each beat was infinitesimally slower than the last. They finally leveled out just before I fell asleep in his arms.