Chapter Seventeen

Later that night

S imon groaned as he turned over in bed just as the carriage-style clock on the bureau faintly chimed the four o'clock hour of the morning.

Even after soaking in a warm bath upon returning home earlier that night, his muscles ached like the devil. A large bruise marred the place on his chest where the ball slammed into the vest, but otherwise, he was none the worse for wear.

Once he'd gotten out of the bath, Hattie had fallen asleep in his bed, so they hadn't had time to talk, and there were certain things he wanted to say to her, especially after she'd declared herself on that dueling field. But now, he came more fully awake to the sensation of someone watching him.

"Hattie?" After grabbing the eye patch from the bedside table, he donned it and let his other eye adjust to the darkness and shadows in the room.

"I have had bouts of broken sleep for the worry of you." Her voice sounded small in the darkness.

"What do you mean? Clearly, you can see that I'm alive and well."

"One never knows after one's husband has been struck by a ball, regardless of a leather vest to protect him." When she laid a hand on his chest, every muscle he had clenched. "Do you promise that you are uninjured and won't suffer damage in the future?"

The concern in her voice humbled him. It had been far too long since anyone had cared for him like that. "I promise." He frowned. "Have you had any more dreams?"

"Not since the last one with the mist. Which was misleading, for there was no mist earlier tonight in that clearing."

"Neither were there lions." But his joke seemed out of place.

"On that contrary, there were plenty of Lyons as well as their handler." Her hand drifted down to his abdomen, and the glancing caress of her fingers left him gasping for breath while awareness raced over his skin. "Are you hurting?"

"There will be a bruise for a while and some of my muscles are sore, but by and large, I am well." Knowing there were certain things he wished to say to her, Simon scooted closer to her and easily tugged her into his arms, tucking her against his body. Damn, but she felt all too right. "I am sorry there wasn't time to tell you of my plan."

"I would have probably given it away in my ire that you intended to go through with the stupid duel." When she drew a hand up and down his back, need shuddered into his shaft. "But I am truly grateful you aren't dead."

"So I heard." Those had been the sweetest words, and he wanted very much to return them. "Since we both have this time alone, there are things I need to say because I can no longer keep them to myself."

She laid a hand to the side of his face, drew her fingertips along the edge of his patch. "If you don't wish to say them aloud, I can guess, for you have shown your feelings in every action."

"I'm flattered you recognized that; I've had nothing but respect and admiration for you from the first." The waterfall of her hair served as a distraction as he buried a hand into those tresses. "There is no sense in hiding my feelings in flowery language or poetry; I am not that sort of man."

"You are when you sing," she whispered and followed it up with a nip to the underside of his jaw.

"Perhaps." It pleased him that she was so fond of the profession he'd chosen after the navy. "Since we married due to my association with the Lyon's Den, let me lay all the cards on the table." He paused while she snickered. "I want you in my life, Hattie. No, need you there. Not because we were forced to marry. Not because your companionship is everything I could have imagined. Not because I adore dipping my toes into scandal with you. But because I love you . You are the perfect mate and partner for me, and a woman like you who has strength and determination and latent romance as parts of her personality is someone who can show me how to be more spontaneous in our shared life."

"You say you aren't a man who can find the words." Hattie pushed at his chest then when he lay on his back, she layered herself over his body. "And you wonder why I'm well on my way to being hopelessly in love with you."

"Then that is good since I feel exactly the same. In fact, I don't believe I can hide those emotions any longer." He sighed. "Ever since my friends have gone into parson's mousetrap, I have felt a touch of jealousy when their marriages began to settle and shift into love."

"Yet you had no idea our union would do the same."

"I did not. Hell, on paper it didn't make sense, but we somehow work. We fit, we are…"

"Perfect," she finished in a soft voice. Her purr of laughter went straight to his member, hardening it. "Some things defy explanation, but I think music and books are what brought us closer."

"That, and the need for acceptance we didn't know we wanted." Simon ran his hands up and down her arms as she levered into a sitting position straddling his waist with the skirting of her night dress flowing around him. "There is something to be said for no longer being alone."

"Agreed, and we've had such fun together already." Her grin was audible. "If fate is kind, we will have long years together yet, and who knows what will happen during that time."

"Perhaps a family of our own?" he asked in a soft voice.

"Only God knows, but in the meantime, I have you, and that is all I have ever needed."

"You are amazing, and I love you so damned much." He slipped a hand to her nape, tugged her down, and then kissed her with enthusiasm as if he hadn't seen her for years. Those plush lips welcomed him home without condition.

It was one of the best things about falling in love that he had found, and he wouldn't trade it for anything.

When she broke the kiss merely to seek out his gaze, he shuddered. The hard outlines of her nipples were evident through the thin fabric of her dress, and damn if that wasn't the most erotic thing he'd ever seen. "Love me, Simon. Show me that you would have chosen me if Mrs. Dove-Lyon had never forced us together."

"I believe I have been doing that all along but hadn't realized it until you told me of your feelings."

"Mmm." Then she lowered her head to his and kissed him.

Their tongues met and tangled in a dance as old as time. In short order, they were both naked. Fingers and hands were seemingly everywhere; caresses encouraged moans and questing fingertips over sensitive skin were met with gasps and sighs. They gave and took from each other, and after the past two weeks, they both knew how to tease in ways that would bring out the best results.

As he kissed a path down her delicious body, being sure to tease and torment her nipples as he went, he thanked whatever deity was listening that this wonderful woman was his for a lifetime. On the heels of a moan, her back arched; she furrowed her fingers into his hair while he continued to lick and nibble every inch of her skin. But she was far too clever and got off teasing nips of her own that only served to stoke the fires already in his blood. When he pressed his lips to her mons, she splayed her thighs, wriggled her hips in invitation, and Simon didn't need more of an invitation.

He devoured her, showed her with his tongue, lips, and fingers how he would claim her in mere moments. Whimpering cries of need left her throat and still he explored. There was nothing he wouldn't do for her… or to her if she wanted it. Soon enough he encouraged her swollen button from beneath the shroud of flesh and played with it to provide maximum pleasure. Through suction and friction, he brought her to the edge of bliss again and again, holding her there, postponing that moment when she would fall. By the time his wife came undone from his carnal torture and her half-stifled scream echoed in the room, his shaft was hard and throbbing. If he didn't join with her soon, he would embarrass himself.

"So beautiful," he murmured seconds before once more claiming her lips.

His wife wasn't in the mood to have him finesse the preliminaries. "I need you, Captain." She looped her arms about his shoulders, and as she pulled him closer, she wrapped her legs around his, holding him in the cradle of her hips.

"I understand the sentiment." He kissed her again because he could, because she was his life, and feathered his fingers into her hair to gently hold her head in his palm, keeping her steady. With his other hand, he guided his shaft, teasing her flesh with his tip before thrusting, taking her, claiming her, speared into her, and not stopping until he'd sunk in, stones deep. They shared a moan as a rush of tingling awareness went over him.

"Never will I have enough of you, of this." Hattie squirmed beneath him, taking him ever deeper, and he was in danger of being lost. Perhaps that was the point of such exercise. As she tightened her inner muscles, squeezing his length, she lightly bit his earlobe. "Make me fly."

"I shall certainly hope for that outcome."

Then, he moved slowly in and out of her body for the sheer pleasure of feeling that glide, that connection, in a rhythm that was much like dancing or singing. Needing more, he gripped her hips, canting them at an angle he preferred and one that would give her the most pleasure as well as send him in deeper. She threw her head back, and with each new thrust, sounds of enjoyment left her throat.

Bloody hell, but coupling was much different when emotions were involved, when love bound them irrevocably together.

Then the pace of his thrusts changed as frantic need tingled through his stones and member. Deeper he plunged, wanting to touch her soul if he could. Faster he worked his hips, harder he stroked in an effort to send her flying while staving off the inevitable. Hattie strained beneath him, her back arching, the perfect globes of her breasts bouncing, whimpering cries pulling from her throat. As he switched his angle of penetration and the root of his shaft rubbed against her swollen nubbin, the first keening cry broke the silence.

With unintelligible words, his wife fell into bliss so completely the contractions yanked him into his own release quickly after. A white void bereft of sound and sight rushed up to meet him, and for a few seconds he existed in a vacuum where nothing existed except perfect joy and the heat of their bodies joined physically while their souls communed on a higher plain.

"Ah, sweeting." As he murmured a litany of affection, Simon collapsed on top of her while his shaft pulsed. She wrapped her arms more comfortably around him, glanced her fingertips along the tattoo on his back. He kissed the side of her neck, her cheeks, her closed eyelids, and finally her sweat-damp forehead. "There isn't anything I wouldn't do for you. Just say the word."

"Show me the world," she whispered against his lips. "Teach me to sail. Let me see how much you adore the sea so I might begin that affair too."

"I would be honored. After all, we haven't had a proper honeymoon." With one last kiss, he rolled onto his side and took her with him, pulling her backside against his front. "We are going to build a fantastic life together, Hattie, just see if we don't."