Winning Miss Wakefield: The Wallflower Wedding Series (24 page)

Undeterred, she refused to retreat. “You need me.”

“
Venus
,” he rasped in a sound that was part growl and part agony. Something inside him must have shifted, because in the next moment, he crushed his mouth to hers.

The kiss was fierce and raw and full of the passion that had sparked the first moment they’d met. Yet this was more than mere passion. It was something greater, something desperate, and they both felt it. She reveled in the feel of his mouth on hers, as if her whole life were in this kiss. Every hope and dream she’d ever had was now here, with him. She would give him anything, everything.

Her hands left his hair to clutch his shoulders. She needed to be closer. She needed to dive into his skin, to find the home where her heart resided.

More insistent and demanding, her pulse pounded out the beat of the pagan drum. She rose up on tiptoe, prepared to crawl up his body. As if sensing this, he lifted her against him with one hand cupping the flesh of her derriere and the other at her nape as he deepened the kiss.

In three strides, they were to the bed.

They fell together in a tangle of eager mouths and limbs. The wait had been too long. An eternity had passed since they’d first met. As if to confirm he felt the same way, he lifted her so that she could feel the deliciously hard ridge of him. She parted her thighs, and he pressed his weight against her. She would have cried out his name in ecstasy if her mouth had been free. Instead, a moan rose from her throat and into his.

His mouth moved from her lips to her cheek and then to the shell of her ear. His breath stirred a hot, erotic mix of sensations. Her fingertips dug into his shoulders as she arched off the mattress. “Lie still, I beg of you. I cannot be gentle if you continue.”

“Then don’t be gentle,” she said, her voice nothing more than a rasp of passion. Unable to help herself, she rubbed against him. “I need you too much. I ache for you. The pain is deep inside of me. I’m overwhelmed. I feel like I could die from it any moment.
Please, Simon
.”

He swore and took her mouth again, hard and hungry. His hand left her nape, drifting down to the hidden fastenings of her gown, making quick work of them. In less time than it took her to draw a breath, he tugged the front of her gown loose. He lifted away from her just long enough to pull her gown and petticoat over her head together. She helped him by raising her arms. Her stays went next, followed by her chemise. She still wore her stockings, though somewhere along the way she’d lost her slippers. But she didn’t take too much time worrying about them as she caught the look in his eyes.

Heat and hunger were there but also tenderness. Her heart gave a funny flip when she noticed how he trembled as he reached for her.

Even though his hand had yet to touch her flesh, she tingled with a combination of awareness and longing. Her breasts plumped beneath his ardent gaze. Her nipples hardened in anticipation, the dusky center coming to an aching peak. He drew his hand away without touching her, and she nearly cried. But then, he lowered his mouth instead, and a cry tore from her throat all the same.

Her hands clutched his head, knitting her fingers through his hair as the burning wetness of his kiss drew her deeper into his mouth. Lifting her from the mattress, he feasted on one breast and then the other, like a man half starved for the taste of her. He shifted his hold. His thigh pressed between hers, making the ache inside more intense. Throbbing, pulsing, the familiar beat took over, urging her to rock her hips against his thigh as he suckled her flesh.

Then abruptly, her body spasmed in quick unsyncopated jerks. She held on to him as an unfamiliar wave of contentment washed through her, dowsing the overwhelming ache in cool bliss. “Simon,” she whispered in awe. “What was that?”

“The beginning, my love,” he answered with a tender kiss. “Only the beginning.”

Trying to catch her breath, she felt her lips curl into a smile. “I like the beginning.”

Bane chuckled, though his voice sounded strained. He tilted her chin up, making sure she met his gaze for his next words. “Then remember this feeling, and trust that I will bring it back to you.”

“Of course.” She trusted him with her heart and everything she possessed. Her fingertips ran over his scalp, threading through his silken hair, cherishing this moment with him and feeling cherished in return.

He lifted away from her and rose up to his knees to remove his robe.

Beneath it, he wore nothing. In the moonlight, he was bared to her greedy gaze. She sucked in a breath. He was magnificent, all sinew and muscle, from the breadth of his shoulders to the narrowness of his waist. And though her body wanted to draw in another breath at the sight of his thick, jutting flesh, she couldn’t seem to breathe. But she did the next best thing . . . she reached out and touched him.

He jerked as if she’d hurt him, and his hand closed around her wrist, stopping her. Lifting her gaze to his, she saw something rawer than passion, fiercer than desire. It was longing. And it made her heart soar. He released her, but she had the sense that he would allow her only so much freedom to explore.

She touched him again, tentatively. His flesh was like velvet, so smooth she couldn’t help but brush her fingers down the length of him. Bane groaned in response but did not stop her. A bead of dew at the very tip caught a shaft of moonlight, making her curious. Lifting up on her elbows, she studied him closely, noting the dusky color of his engorged flesh, the veins that ran the considerable length of him, the thatch of thick coal black hair at the base. Her fingertips explored all of him, eliciting more groans from his throat and making that part of him twitch and follow her touch. The bead of dew swelled, drawing her complete attention. She touched it, feeling the slick silken texture of it between her fingers.

Curious, she went to touch him again only to have him stop her. She looked up and saw his eyes turn dark with passion. Now, there was only the barest ring of silver around his pupil. The tendons of his neck strained against his flesh as he breathed hard and heavy through his nostrils. “No more, my love. I need to have you. Now.”

Though his words were said with some urgency, he gently took her hand in his, threading their fingers together as he lowered his body over hers. She felt the heat of him instantly, felt her legs tremble as that hard ridge pressed between them. He kissed her tenderly, his lips brushing back and forth over hers. She let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding and felt her body relax. Strange, she wasn’t even aware of being nervous until the feeling was already gone.

Still holding her hand, Bane stroked the sensitive flesh of her palm with the pad of his thumb. Even though he stroked her hand, she felt it somewhere else.

Oh.
Her lips parted on a sigh of wonder. The tip of his tongue swept in to taste her. She opened for him, tilting her head to take him deeper. At the sound of his groan, the ache flared back to life. A swift torrent of flames burned deep inside her, begging for that cool rush of ecstasy.

Merribeth squeezed his hand. Restless again, she rubbed against him, hips arching. The coarse hair on his chest teased her nipples, making them ache as well. He shifted lower, nudging her thighs apart with his. She gasped when she felt that jutting part of him press against her, against the insistent throbbing, as if he alone knew how to ease the ache.

Proving it, he rocked his hips, sliding his length against her. She squeezed his hand tighter, wanting more, begging for it as his name tore from her throat. He obliged with another slow, torturous slide. It only made the throbbing more insistent.

She craved that sensation of bliss, but the ache only grew and grew. He wasn’t pressing hard enough. Instinctively, she lifted her knees to anchor the heels of her feet into the mattress.

Bane made a sound of approval and rewarded her with a deep, drugging kiss. He shifted again until she felt his thickness prod the opening of her body. Thousands of sensations flooded her. When he moved his hips, she could feel his heat inside her. He stretched her—her body welcoming him and yet feeling invaded at the same time. As if sensing this, he withdrew.

The second time he edged inside, the stretch began to feel pleasant. The nuances left her hungry. The ache had shifted. It lay deeper now, at her core, and she was impatient to have him at the source. “More,” she said, arching against him. “I want more of you.” Her soul demanded it. She wanted all of him.

He groaned. “Soon, my love. I want to give you pleasure again.”

He pushed slightly deeper. Her body resisted. Closing around him caused a sweet tug against her throbbing flesh.
Oh
,
that was nice
. And because he seemed to know the wants of her body better than she did, he withdrew and pushed inside again, making her want more still.

He kept this up, with shallow thrusts, building her need, making her moan. She felt close to the precipice. Then suddenly, like before, her hips jerked and arched. The first wave of bliss crashed. He drove deeper, tearing her, stretching her, filling her. “Ah!”

He held still, his body flush against hers, his breath heavy against her cheek. He was giving her time, she realized, to take an accounting. Her body clenched around him in quick syncopation with her pulse. That part felt nice. However, she was also aware of pain, of feeling too full and slightly bruised. It was sort of the same pain as when she bumped her knee into a low table, albeit in a completely different place. Whenever that happened, she rubbed her hand over the injury to stop the painful stinging. She wondered if the same method would apply.

“Again,” she said but closed her eyes in case she was wrong.

“Beautiful but demanding.” He chuckled, though it too sounded pained as he brushed his lips over hers. “Allow me a moment, my love. You feel extraordinarily warm and snug, and I am nearly over the edge.”

She blinked up at him and saw his grimace. “
Oh.
” The word left her on a breath.

“Precisely.” His features softened as he gazed at her. Then he drew up the hands that were still entwined and turned her wrist to press a kiss there. Lifting her arm, he settled it over her head and pressed another kiss to her Wakefield brow, lingering. His kiss drifted down over each eyelid, the crests of her cheeks, the tip of her nose, both corners of her mouth, and then finally settled firmly in place, drawing a sigh of pure pleasure from her.

He moved within her slowly, the pain forgotten moment by moment. As his kiss deepened, so did his thrusts, gliding inside her with a delicious friction that made her match his movements. With her captive hand, she squeezed him, and with her free hand, she clung to him.

His free hand slipped beneath her, settling into the curve of her lower back. He lifted her hips from the mattress, driving into her with even more speed and urgency as if they were racing toward a summit.

She felt it too, the need to reach it together. Her body tingled in a way that she now identified as the instant before ecstasy washed through her. Yet this time it was building more and more, as if something bigger were about to happen. This was new to her, so she couldn’t be sure. All she knew was that she trusted Bane. She loved him with her heart, her soul, and now her body. She was
his
as much as he was
hers
in that moment—

His name left her lips on a sob of sheer rapture. He must have felt it too, for he shouted a wordless oath as he thrust hard once—twice—three times, before stilling.

Bane pressed his forehead against hers, their labored breaths merging as one. The sweat of his brow felt cool against her fevered skin. He kissed her again, and in that moment, she felt cherished. It was magic and more than she could have ever dreamed. She was right to fall in love with Bane. This was perfect.

And yet, it couldn’t last. Not for him, at least. For her, though, this would be the single brightest moment in her life. A sudden sting of tears pricked the corners of her eyes. Before she could control it, her vision turned watery as she gazed up at him.

“Tears of Venus,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the corner of each eye. “I will drink them in and take away your pain.”

“They’re not from pain.”

He did as he said he would and kissed her until her tears were gone. “Then what?”

From love
, she would have said if she’d remembered to be brave. “I don’t know.”

He smiled down at her with such tenderness that she felt he must know the truth, but he didn’t call her on it. “Then I’m certain I don’t know either.” He shifted, leaving her body to lie beside her. Drawing her into his arms, he settled her head against his shoulder. “Perhaps if we lay here a while, we’ll find the answer.”

The hair on his chest tickled her lips, and so she pressed them against his flesh before she lifted her face. “I should be going.”

“There’s no rush.” He kissed her brow. “We have hours before dawn.”

And because she wanted to cling to this moment for as long as she dared, she didn’t argue.

C
HAPTER
N
INETEEN

M
erribeth awoke in her own bed. Alone.

In the early hours of the morning, Bane had removed a storm shutter from his window and placed it across the space between their balconies. Then, he’d picked her up and carried her to her room. Following her inside, he’d built a fire in the hearth to take away the chill in the air. Before he left, he’d kissed her with such tender affection that it was almost too easy for her to imagine that he loved her too.

While she knew nothing could come of it, not with his mind set on revenge, at the same time she couldn’t deny how extraordinarily contented she’d felt. She even laughed when he’d reached the window and then turned back to cross the room to her, in order to kiss her again and tell her that there was something he wanted to discuss with her later this morning.

She agreed, knowing with certainty that he would ask her to become his mistress. Even though their arrangement would only be for a time, she would accept. If she had mere days to love him, she would cherish every single one of them.