Chapter 10

10

F or a split second after her lips landed upon Nate’s , he was very still. A split second when Emily questioned whether she’d been too hasty, if she’d misunderstood?—

Except then, his arms shot around her waist, pulling her close, and his lips consumed her with a heated pressure that sent a flood of warmth shooting through her core. Their first kiss had begun with a sort of tenderness as they’d adjusted to the novel sensation of each other’s mouths. However , this kiss was harder, urgent, and his fingers sank into her flesh like he never wished to release her.

She let her hands fall back around his nape, into his hair. Let him nudge her lips apart so their tongues could twine. Everything about him was hot. His breath, his touch, his body. It all made her feel as if she could burst into flames.

She gave a little cry as she felt her body being shifted, and suddenly, he sat on the floor with her atop his lap, her legs hanging to either side of his thighs. Oh , this was heavenly. Rather like being in his arms when he’d carried her through the snow, except this time, she could yield to the rigid muscles of his chest instead of fighting him. Plus , she had the added benefit of his thighs beneath her, the heat of them searing her. The hardness in his trousers brushing against her, alerting her of his desire. Making her own desire flare like the sparks within the fireplace.

“ Emily ,” he breathed, his lips pulling away to skirt her jawline. Her neck. Traveling downward, little by little, and bringing so much promise. Yet he stopped his path to hover above her collarbone, peering up at her with a look that was part wide and desirous, part questioning.

“ Please ,” she moaned, tilting her head, arching her back. How had her simple day gown suddenly grown too tight? The fabric too heavy? Her shift had become a burden; her stays would drive her mad.

But then, his fingers were at her back, loosening the tapes of her gown and laces of her stays. Her bodice drooped, and as it did, he lowered his mouth to the curve of her breast. Down to the nipple, covered only by her flimsy shift, that had grown taut and aching.

She cried out again, the sensation of his lips against the hardened bud making pleasure rush through her veins and yearning pool between her legs. He was relentless—licking, suckling, laving her through the fabric, first on one side and then the other, until she didn’t know whether to consider it bliss or torture. The sensation was good, so good, but it wasn’t enough, and she grew desperate, needy?—

Until all at once, he was lifting her, and they were no longer on the floor but standing on shaky feet. It was fortunate he kept her clasped tightly against him, for desire had rendered her knees weak, and were he to let go, she wasn’t confident she’d remain upright.

But he didn’t let go. Instead , he claimed her lips again, guiding her backward until her legs collided with something solid. The dining table .

No sooner did her mind make the connection than he was grasping her hips, boosting her onto the tabletop, causing the decorative holly bough in the center to tumble to the floor with a single long sweep of his arm.

The air rushed from her lungs, the sound of her gasp getting swallowed by his kiss. As if by instinct, her legs fell open, and he leaned into her, his arousal hot and tempting between her thighs. Some rational spark within her brain tried to warn her that they were ruining the decorations, that a servant could walk in, that nothing about this was wise. However , she couldn’t make herself care. Couldn’t focus on anything but thoughts of pulling up her skirts, unfastening his trousers, and feeling the hardness of his manhood deep inside her.

All until he tore his lips away and pressed his forehead to hers, his breath coming in ragged pants. “ I won’t compromise you.” His voice had turned guttural.

She blinked, trying to make sense of the maelstrom of sensations that twisted her in knots. He was correct, of course. She shouldn’t desire such a thing, would do far better to walk away before they crossed a dangerous line. She knew that. Regardless , it didn’t stop the sting of disappointment or the protest in each of her nerve endings, because she craved so deeply, she needed ?—

“ But that doesn’t mean I cannot give you pleasure.” His words caused a jolt low in her belly, and her unsatiated body snapped to alertness. “ Let me see you.” His hand left her hip, his index finger trailing down the fabric covering her thigh. Moving in time to his rough, heated murmur. “ Let . Me . Taste . You .”

Her mouth fell open at his wicked proposal, and a breathy sound escaped her lips. Was it a cry of shock? Of desire? Either way, the cry turned into a single intelligible word. “ Yes .”

Yes . He sank to his knees before her and peered upward, the glint in his eyes holding so much promise.

Yes . He bunched up her skirts until they formed a heap on the tabletop, uttering a throaty command for her to hold them.

Yes , yes, yes . Perhaps she should be ashamed of sitting on a table in front of him like this, so bare and exposed. Yet he continued staring at her with pupils huge with longing, drawing close enough that his breath tickled her sensitive flesh, and she could only think of how badly she wanted.

His tongue swept a long circle over her sex, and she jerked against the table, the pleasure of it causing stars to shoot across her vision.

“ Do you like that, love?” His tongue retreated, hovering just above where she longed for it, and the hot trickle of air from his words nearly drove her mad. “ You’re exquisitely sweet, you know.”

“ Mm .” Suddenly , even yes had become too much for her; all she had left was a breathless moan.

A moan that enticed him to take hold of her hips and tug them forward. To push her legs even farther apart and drape them over his shoulders so he could see every secret part of her. To grin roguishly as if he were about to enjoy the dessert course.

And then, he feasted on her without relenting, licking and sucking at her folds. Moving up to the little peak that contained the heart of her pleasure.

She dropped back on her elbow, her hand continuing to clamp tight to the swaths of green muslin around her waist. Her other hand shooting out and scrabbling clumsily until she grasped a fistful of his hair, anchoring him close to her. If he were to pull away now, she may very well die from it.

But he didn’t pull away; he drew her pearl between his lips, his caresses becoming more intense. Her body was so taut, so close to hurtling over a cliff and into a shower of euphoria. She screwed her eyes shut, her hips undulating beyond her control, her muscles quivering, her fingernails sinking into his scalp.

And suddenly, there came a new sensation—a sturdy finger dipping into the wetness at her entrance, gently circling the untried flesh.

Release washed over her like a deluge, making her come apart with spasm after spasm of pleasure. Nothing she’d done at night in the solitude of her bedchamber could have prepared her for anything this intense, this all-consuming. And he stayed with her for it all, fastidiously lapping at her sex, drawing out each blissful wave until her body was spent.

When she opened her eyes, the room appeared to have transformed again. Not because anything was outwardly altered—aside from the tabletop holly bough that now lay on the floor—but because her senses felt like they’d sharpened. As if the firelight grew brighter, the evergreen branches more fragrant, the heat of Nate’s body more intense.

She gave his hair a soft tug, and he pushed onto his feet, pulling her back up to sitting and into his arms, claiming her lips in a fervent kiss. His mouth tasted different, muskier. Like her , she realized, her intimate muscles giving another twitch. She let her bunched-up skirts drop, finally allowing herself the privilege of sliding her hand down his chest, exploring the firm ridges that were apparent even through his shirt and waistcoat. Continuing lower until she reached the thick wool of his trousers and the hardness that tented them in the front, curling her fingers around the bulge.

He let out a groan, his body tensing as if he were in pain. She stilled her hands, breaking away from the kiss so she could peer at him, a crease forming in her brow. “ Did I do something wrong?”

“ No . You’re perfect. What’s wrong,” he said between clenched teeth, “is that you’ll unman me.”

Oh . Desire unfurled in her belly like plumes of smoke. Not for what her own body craved, but for the pleasure she wished to give to him. So she could see him desperate and unhinged.

She hopped to the floor, using her foot to hook the nearest chair leg and drag it out from under the table. “ Let me.” She glanced at the seat, then laid her palms against his chest and nudged him toward it. The size of her body was no match for his. Regardless , he toppled into the chair like his legs had become boneless. “ I want to touch you.”

“ Emily .” He didn’t speak so much as growl her name as she got to her knees in front of him. Positioning herself the same way he’d done right before he’d set her yearning alight. “ Do you have any idea how much I desire you?”

Those words . The things they did to her pulse. To the very center of her. “ Then let me have you,” she said, her voice mostly breath.

Her fingers went to the top buttons of his fall, slipping them from their holes. She worked her way downward, watching intently as the fabric began to gape, until at last, there were no buttons left and his arousal sprang free.

She’d thought she knew what to expect. She’d seen statues of unclothed men, after all, along with a few illustrated books on the highest shelves of the Beaumont library that weren’t intended for her eyes. However , none of that prepared her for how swollen and large Nate would look in real life. How very rigid and hot he would feel when she lightly set her fingertips around his girth.

She gave him a careful caress from base to tip, and when his breath hitched, she did it again, studying his face for his reaction.

His mouth was slack, his eyelids heavy as he peered back at her. “ That’s it, love. So good.” His hand fell atop hers, squeezing her fingers tighter around him, guiding her up his length in one powerful stroke. “ You can press harder, like this,” he muttered, his voice sounding on the verge of cracking. “ It feels so good when you …”

His words became a harsh gasp as she repeated the motion several times in rapid succession. And because his head was tilted back, his features twisting in pleasure, she kept going, pumping her hand over the velvety skin that was steel underneath. A bead of dew appeared at the tip of his erection, and she slid her fingers over it, loving the slippery hardness of him, the quivering of his thighs, the raggedness of his inhales and exhales—all because of her ministrations.

Yet she wanted to both give and take even more from him. Wanted to know him as intimately as he knew her.

She leaned forward, swirling her tongue over the thick head of his arousal.

“ Jesus , Emily ,” he hissed, his hips jolting against the seat, his hand shooting out to clutch her braid

She almost halted to pull away and ask once again if she’d erred. Except she knew better now, didn’t she? The problem wasn’t that the sensation displeased him but that it drove him out of his head with need.

Which was exactly as she wished it.

She licked the salt of his skin, pressed tiny kisses up and down his shaft as her hand continued to stroke. And then, she dared to do something she’d seen in one of the illicit library books: she took the crown of his manhood between her lips and drew him into her mouth.

When he groaned her name this time, it came out strangled and distorted. His whole body shuddered, and she repeated the motion once, twice?—

“ Enough , I’m going to—” He wrenched himself away from her lips, his hand flying down to encapsulate hers, giving a powerful thrust that brought on his release. She watched in fascination while he came undone, feeling him pulse beneath her touch as his seed spilled upon the floor. Until his limbs, like hers, became loose and sated in the aftermath of pleasure.

She’d never felt so powerful. Had never imagined a sensation like this, for champagne and butterflies didn’t begin to express its potency.

He made quick work of retrieving a handkerchief from his pocket and cleaning the evidence of their lovemaking away, after which he lured her upward, pulling her onto his lap. Without another thought, she sank against his chest and rested her face in the crook of his neck. He was so solid and warm. He simply felt right .

His mouth came down to brush along the hair near her temple. “ Good God , my lady.” His breath was hot, delicious. “ What you do to me.”

Her lips quirked, and a muscle clenched low in her abdomen. What you do to me, too, Nate .

She let him hold her close and rub her shoulders and back. Let him whisper flattering words in her ear about how beautiful she was, and she basked in them, as languid as one of her pet cats. All until he eventually returned to the laces and tapes he’d unfastened and retied them, carefully setting her stays and bodice back to rights.

The moment had to come sooner or later. She knew that, and she made herself shift on his lap so she could return the favor, sliding each button of his fall into place. However , that didn’t stop her stomach from doing an odd flip.

Intimacy had made her powerful, but it rendered her vulnerable, too. Because what came next? As long as they remained in the great hall, she had firelight, warmth, the leftover haze of her pleasure, the safety of Nate’s embrace. Yet it was like a bubble, ready to burst. For as soon as she climbed the stairs to her borrowed bedchamber, there would be only coldness. The return of darkness. And something that was perhaps even worse—her pounding, conflicted heart, keeping her up all night as it swelled with emotions she shouldn’t let herself acknowledge.

“ Do you think …” She hesitated, her throat suddenly dry. Her eyes no longer willing to quite lock with his. She didn’t want to be weak and needy, didn’t want to be childish . Except … what if she could trust him not to see her that way anymore? What if she could allow herself to be open with him and know he would give her a safe place to fall?

She swallowed, then permitted the question to break free. “ Do you think you could sit with me by the fire for a little while longer?”

Right away, his hand went out to cup her chin, coaxing her to look at him, and her chest clenched in anticipation. There was no condescension in his expression. In fact, he was observing her rather like she held the stars and moon. “ Of course, love.” He traced a path along her jawline and brushed a stray strand of hair away from her cheek. “ Just give me one moment. I’ll return directly.”

He gently lifted her from his lap and rose, flashing her a lazy half-smile before he hurried out of the great hall and disappeared behind one of the doors. A smile that made her insides warm, until her lips nearly curved upward as well.

This night would end, but not yet. Not yet .

True to his word, he returned to the great hall without delay, his arms laden with a stack of blankets and two plump cushions. “ We may as well enjoy the fire in comfort.”

She could think of nothing in this moment that sounded better.

She scurried over to him, taking the opposite side of the heavy wool blanket and helping to spread it into a perfect rectangle against the floor. Then , she placed the cushions at the farthest end from the fireplace while he set another folded blanket to the side of them.

He motioned for her to sit, and she readily complied, kicking off her slippers and sinking onto the soft surface. Letting herself recline against a cushion so she faced the fire, which had developed into a healthy blaze.

He lowered himself as well, sitting on the edge of the blanket while he removed his boots and then shuffling over to stretch out beside her. Draping a protective arm across her abdomen.

A wind gust rattled the windowpanes as if to remind her of the storm’s existence, but suddenly, it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered of the outside world, of the weather, of the past or future. Nothing mattered at all beyond the two of them in this makeshift bed beneath the yule log’s warm glow.

For endless minutes, she watched the flames dance in the fireplace. Alternated with watching the shadows they cast across his face. Neither she nor Nate attempted speech; it simply didn’t seem necessary. The crackle of wood—and the closeness they shared—was enough.

Eventually , her eyelids grew heavy, and exhaustion began closing in on her. A sure sign the time had come to retreat to her bed. Yet he didn’t move from the blanket, and so, neither did she. She didn’t seem to have the energy. Or the will.

Instead , she let her eyes close, giving in to the warmth and lightness that overtook her body. She became vaguely aware of a quiet shuffling beside her, and then, the soft weight of another blanket falling upon her, topped again by Nate’s strong arm.

She threaded her fingers through his and rolled onto her side, and he followed, his chest cradling her back, keeping her warm. Sheltered . For a fraction of a moment, her eyes drifted open, taking a blurry look at her surroundings before sleep came to pull her under.

Too brief a time for her to fully register that beyond the windows, the snow had stopped.