Meet Me At the Castle (5 page)

Her breath quickened as pleasure radiated through every part of her body. Still, she kept her hands braced on the wall, too terrified by her feelings to move.

Intently he slid his lips to her neck, nuzzling there with a touch that spun through her, causing her to gasp. She opened her eyes, and she could barely see through the haze of delight that brought tears to her eyes. Damian shuddered, and he lifted his head to look at her. As one tear slipped down her cheek, he removed it with a gentle sweep of his fingers.

“Oh, that I would be able to remove all tears from your life forever, sweet Elizabeth.”

As he cupped her face again, his mouth descended. And as he touched her mouth with his, a new fire leaped bringing with it a glorious heat. His lips were so gentle at first that she ached for their pressure to increase. She touched him, clasping his waist, and he pressed her against the wall. Ignoring the chill, she absorbed the heat of his body. In that moment all she knew was the essence of Damian. Everything that must be him flowed into her, as if his power, his need, were all hers, to hold and to keep.

As she tasted the warmth of his mouth, she relished the musk scent of him, the heightened sense of belonging in this moment and in this time, in a world where nothing mattered but him.

As he deepened his kiss, his tongue moved into her mouth, pushing inside gently, rubbing against her own tongue. Surprised, she moaned and pressed against him. She met his sensual touch with her own, her long-denied passion and instincts compelling her to lose all inhibition.

Suddenly he pulled his lips from hers. His breath came fast, and his face was flushed. “Elizabeth.”

His gaze swept her features, and she in turn attempted to memorize every nuance of his finely sculpted face. It was possible after tonight she might never see him again. The thought brought more tears to her eyes. With just the touch of his lips, her whole life had changed yet again. And nothing her father or Anne could do would take that away.

“If I never see you again after this night—” he said.

She lifted a finger to his lips. “Shh. Just for tonight I would have what I want.”

A sorrowful smile curved his lips, and she found herself staring at them. She longed to feel them on her skin again.

“You are going to find a husband. It is prudent.”

“Prudent?” She was disturbed by his statement.

“Yes. I have no doubt a very lucky man who will care for you and provide for you will offer for your hand.”

“I
do not
want it,” she murmured, her voice catching.

“You must. There is no other way.” His voice was stern, though the softness in his eyes betrayed his true feelings.

“I could remain here. Everything was fine before, when I could come here and meet with you and then paint Cromar by day.”

He kissed her again, quickly. “Your life could be fulfilled with a husband and children.”

“Perhaps. But…I would miss Cromar.” She reached up to caress his cheek with her palm. He was so warm, so full of life. “And more than anything I long to remain with you.”

Admitting her feelings seemed natural, as if she had always had them for him.

He smiled. “You do not waste time coming to the point.”

“I rarely have.”

He tightened his arms around her and looked deep into her eyes. “Know this, Elizabeth Albright. If ever you need me, if ever your husband treats you poorly, I shall be here.”

Tears welled in her eyes, and she struggled to contain them. “Where might I send you a letter? I shall give you my aunt’s address in London.”

“No.”

The tears won out and spilled over her cheeks. “Why?”

“I did not mean to make you cry, dear one.” He groaned and leaned over to kiss each eyelid, each cheek. “No one can send me letters.”

“I don’t understand.”

“And I cannot explain.”

She swallowed with effort. “How will I know you are well?”

For a long moment he did not speak. When he did speak his words were strained. “I will always be well.”

She cried without remorse now, the pain in her heart increasing. “Oh, Damian, I shall miss you.”

He kissed her, and she could feel his desire in the way his lips moved over hers, in his tongue, in the way his hands caressed her. Without restraint she moved against him, seeking some way to get closer, her mouth clinging to his. She twined her arms about his neck. He reached under her cloak and slowly unbuttoned the front of her dress. Once again her fear escalated, temporarily blinding her to the pleasure of his hands and mouth.

He gently caressed her neck, sending tremors of white heat through her, turning her unease to pure pleasure. His lips trailed down her neck once again.

Under a haze of sensations she had never experienced, she jumped in surprise when his fingers cupped her bare breast, and she groaned at the tightness that made her nipple hard against his palm. Tracing his palms over her nipples, tantalizing her with his fingers, he pressed his hips against her. He moaned against her neck.

“I must have you,” he gasped. She shivered at the delicious sensation as he kissed her flushed skin. “Just say the words, my sweet Elizabeth.” He peppered kisses along her jawline. “Tell me to leave before it is too late. Tell me you don’t want this.”

Somewhat uncertain of all that happened between man and woman, she imagined that if it felt this wonderful, she wanted it with him and no other. “Love me, Damian. Love me as you would your wife.”

He slowly unhooked her long cloak, and as he brushed it off her shoulders, it pooled at her feet. Slowly he peeled her dress down and helped her remove her arms from the sleeves. As the cool air shivered over her skin, goose bumps tingled. He caressed her arms, warming her. He pulled the chemise over her head, exposing her full breasts to his sight. Where she would have expected to feel some embarrassment, she felt none. His hands touched her, moved on her nakedness as if he were memorizing, painting her in his mind to keep.

“In my heart you are my wife.”

If she had still been afraid of him, those words would have melted any last resistance, any last worry. As he touched one nipple with his fingers, she gasped. His lips captured the other nipple, and she groaned as he twirled his tongue about her, then suckled. She trembled, a quiver of something she could not define invading her body.

He moved back from her, and for a moment she feared he would stop this exquisite torture. Instead, he led her to the bed. He parted the velvet hangings, allowing her to see the soft covering. Before he could press her down on the bed’s expanse, she reached for the last of her garments, unfastening the petticoats at her waist, letting them fall onto the floor. She removed her pantalets, and they, too, dropped to the floor.

Who would ever have guessed she would be so bold? So indescribably eager for something she had never experienced before.

He stood for long moments gazing at her, a look on his face she had never seen and could not define. Sweet, perhaps. Passionate, most assuredly. First his gaze centered on her face, and she felt a flush of warmth as his gaze dropped to her breasts, her waist, and finally to her hips and legs. A blush stole along her body as he continued to look at her. His lips parted as if he might speak. Instead he removed his doublet, then removed his shirt in quick jerks, as if the garments burned his flesh. The unwanted cloth fell to the floor, and his torso was naked.

Her eyes widened in pleased surprise. She had never seen a man with such broad shoulders, such muscles. She had felt his strength when he had carried her, but to see the strength in naked flesh was quite another thing. Amazed, she looked at the hair on his chest, the way it moved downward in a straight line toward his flat stomach and the waistband of his trousers. He moved slightly, and his pectoral muscles clenched. She gazed, fascinated at the interplay of light along his smooth skin. She itched to touch him.

No. She ached. In her breasts, between her thighs. Where she had never ached before.

He walked toward her. As he reached her, he gathered her against him. With a surge of need she burrowed her fingers into the hair on his chest, felt for his nipples and teased them the way he had tormented her earlier. His breath drew inward, a hissing sound almost like pain.

She drew back hastily, her eyes wide. “Did I hurt you?”

His smile was strained. “Oh, yes.”

But before she could apologize his mouth was on hers, and as he crushed her to him, she felt the power of renewed desire dance in her abdomen and march along her limbs. Quickly he drew away, startling her. But it was only to unfasten his trousers, and he took them off.

She was not quite astonished by the sight of his male need. She had felt this strange hardness pressed against her, but she had no idea it would be so strong looking, so intriguing. In fascination and half fear she touched him, and he stilled her hand. Wondering if she was doing something wrong, she stopped.

“No,” he whispered. “It is all right.”

He shaped her hand around him, tutored her touch. To her amazement he grew even more ridged, larger. In her fascination she wondered how and where…what did this intriguing part of his body do with hers? What must they do to ease this tight, aching feeling?

When she looked into his eyes she saw the edge. The edge of his control slipping as surely as if he was leaning over a precipice. Trembling with excitement, she was eager to know what this secret could be.

He urged her down on the bed, and as she sank into the soft surface, he lay half over her, insinuating his thigh between hers, pressing it against that most female part of her. The roughness of him made her moan, and the pleasure of the pressure made her arch in an attempt get closer. Every movement of his strong body became a study for her, a lesson in the interplay of their differences, his hardness against her softness.

As he kissed and caressed her, he tutored her in ways of pleasing him. Curiosity born of instinct and desire overwhelmed her.

Her attention was swept up as he tongued her nipples, nibbling and caressing, suckling until she burned, panted, ached for something to stop this combination of torture and exquisite pleasure.

His fingers traced a delicate and tender path along her legs, and she gasped as he gently touched the folds. He lingered and caressed. She felt a warm wetness between her legs. With tantalizing touches he learned every inch of what made her female, and when he touched a certain spot between her legs the dart of pleasure it produced sent her gasping and arching against him.

Every movement of his fingers drew sounds of delight from deep within her. She moaned as he kissed her, plunging his tongue in and out of her mouth in a rhythm matching the pace of his caresses. Never in a million years could she have imagined a more exquisite feeling. She strained against him in pleasure as he inserted a finger within her and began to move it in and out.

“Oh, please,” she said.

When she was mindless, certain that the pleasure could go no higher, he proved her wrong. Kissing his way down her body, he rested his lips on the heart of her, and she gasped, her eyes flying open to gaze down at him. Before she could give much thought to the shocking thing he was doing, he tasted her.

A haze of pleasure pulsed into her with each movement of his lips and tongue upon her. For what seemed forever he licked, suckled, tasted until she strained and whimpered.

She whimpered, a plea springing from her lips. “Please.”

He did not relent. Instead he increased the cadence of his torture, and soon she could not get her breath. She might die.

Seconds later a sweet blinding pleasure gripped her loins, stinging, hot, incomparably wonderful. It rolled through her as she cried out. This was the meaning of heaven.

And if God smote her down this moment, she would have gladly gone to hell for her sin.

As she came down, slowly drifting on a daze as comfortable as a cloud from heaven, she felt his weight. He braced himself over her, lowered his hips between her thighs and the evidence of his need probed her soft folds. The heat of it was so startling she made a tiny, ragged sound. She dared not open her eyes, dared not see the animal passion she knew was etched across every inch of his face. Dear Lord, so this was what happened between a man and woman. Did he intend to enter her with this bold, hot part of him?

For a moment, he paused. “Elizabeth, look at me.”

So she did.

Instead of animal passion she saw more. A glow of something, something she could only describe as love, masked his features, softening them.

And his own eyes closed, and the pressure of his hardness moved into her. She braced herself, expecting pain as she felt herself stretch to accommodate him. As he lowered himself fully onto her, she laced her arms about his neck, clasping him tightly. His mouth took her lips as with one last surge he pushed full length into her.

She groaned as she experienced not pain, but the deep and unique fullness of him pressing within her, hard and unyielding. Gradually he pulled away, entered again, his movements slow, determined. The thrust and retreat of his rhythm brought him into her again and again.

His breath became frayed as he dipped into her, sliding along her femininity with an indolence that tormented as much as it pleasured. Soon, however, all she could feel was blinding need. And the torture was greater, more wonderful than anything she could have wished for in her dreams.

Her desire was fresh, boundless, and no thought but pleasing him could reach her mind. She kissed him hungrily, mindless with building necessity. After an endless time he began to thrust urgently, every lunge powerful and deep, increasing the pace until her heart pounded.

She heard a pleading and begging, and realized it was her own voice. Demanding he finish it. Entreating him to bring her relief from the endless heat.

Seconds later the heat became a conflagration, and it burst through her body, swirling her up. She felt her contractions clutch him, throbbing over and over as she screamed.

But he continued to move, pounding into her until his own release came upon him. She opened her eyes to see his passion, and was delighted at the way he lost all control, the sounds he made, the shout erupting from his throat.