One Day for a Valet

Chapter 30

Sofia wandered the length of the sitting room, pausing to wiggle her toes into the floral Axminster rug, and tried to imagine her life here with Christopher. The bookshelves, currently sparse, would be packed with Christopher’s bawdy novels and her periodicals. In the winter, they would watch the snow fall from the massive east-facing window Zachariah had designed for their bedroom. One day, there would be toys strewn about the floor from their children’s busy play.

Right now, however, it just felt cold and lonely.

Four hours ago, Christopher and Jeremy had left to fetch their new table from town. During that time, the sky, blue and cloudless upon their departure, had changed dispositions entirely, quite like a toddler having a tantrum. In a show of spectacular endurance, heavy grey clouds had been dumping rain from above while the wind whipped it sideways for hours.

Sofia had braved the storm during a brief reprieve, crossing the short distance to Northam Hall in search of Christopher. Despite Gabriel’s insistence that he and Jeremy must have remained at the inn for the night, Sofia could not soothe her rising disquiet.

Restless with worry and inconveniently energetic, Sofia paced about the house, knowing that if she laid down, it would only be to stare at the ceiling. She lit the range instead, heating kettle after kettle of water for a bath in her bedchambers, and hoping all the while that lugging pails of water up the stairs would provide sufficient inducement for her body to rest.

When the tub was finally full, she sank into the water, her muscles aching from exertion. It was a magnificent tub, but future bathing would be allocated to the kitchens for convenience. She couldn’t imagine putting herself or Christopher through the process of carting that much water up the stairs again. Every trip had seemed to extend the height of the staircase. After washing and soaking until the water was cool, she donned her night rail and combed her hair, curled up in the middle of the soft, inviting bed, and fell to sleep almost instantly.

Sofia awoke when the mattress dipped beside her and cool fingers brushed across her cheek. Before her mind could muster alarm at the intrusion, Christopher’s reassuring murmur shimmered through the fog of her sleep.

“Shh. It’s only me. I should have let you sleep but…” He paused to snuggle her, his beard-roughened cheek scratching her throat as he nuzzled into her hair. “But you looked so inviting and sweet. I couldn’t resist.”

Sofia turned in the bed and threw her arms around Christopher, squeezing the reassuring weight of his body against hers. “I was so worried. I could throttle you for riding out in this. You should be warm and dry at an inn.”

“Jeremy quite vociferously agreed. I rented a horse from the livery while he remained behind. He’ll follow tomorrow with the wagon and table.” Christopher idly stroked her hair. “I can’t blame him for opting to stay behind. Remaining at the inn was not an option for me, however. Not when I knew you would be snuggled up in our bed, awaiting my return.”

He sank his hands deeper into her curls, massaging in slow sweeps of his fingers, and Sofia didn’t think that anything had ever felt so lovely. “I will chastise you later for your recklessness,” she murmured.

“Mmm.” The warm sound rumbled in his chest. “A chastisement from the governess. Remind me to dally in summer storms more often.”

With the low sound in his throat, a pleasant warmth bloomed across her skin. “You are incorrigible.” She slid her arm tighter around his waist. “But I am too pleased to have you here beside me to scold you.” As her hands slid over him, Christopher’s breathing changed, pulling from somewhere deeper in his chest, and Sofia sensed his intentions.

“What made you change your mind?” she asked. “You were so determined this afternoon to wait on the doctor”s report. Wait—” She ran her palms down his back and felt his muscles twitch beneath her gentle petting. “How are your clothes dry?”

He kissed her nose and then drew back to look at her. “I stopped at Northam Hall first to let them know I’d returned and to obtain dry clothes. And as for my change of heart…” His knuckles brushed back and forth against Sofia’s cheek, warming her blood by steady degrees. “I left you wanting earlier.” A wicked smile pulled at his mouth. “I will never leave you wanting again, Sofi.”

She pressed her lips to his smile and he opened immediately to deepen his kiss. His kiss was the slow, thorough savouring of a man who had been imagining this moment through every mile of his arduous journey, but his touch was light against her skin.

After hours of worry, hours of feeling the emptiness of the house without him, of longing for his heated flesh beneath her fingers, Sofia craved delicious, satiating contact while Christopher was offering only a teasing taste.

He licked, nibbled, and sipped until her nerves thrummed beneath his meticulous attention. Each time her pulse climbed, he eased back, only to repeat the steady process again until they were breathless despite his plodding pace.

He eased away and wrinkled his nose. “I have to bathe, sweetheart. I smell like a horse.”

She tightened her grip. “I like horses. Don’t you dare move.”

He chuckled and slipped from the circle of her arms. “I’ll be quick, there’s already water in the tub.”

“It’s cold.”

“Then I will be twice as motivated to return to our bed.”

“Our bed,” she repeated.

“Not that I require any additional motivation.”

“I’ll put water on to heat.” Sofia slid from beneath the counterpane and glanced back to see his gaze rake across her body. His eyes caught and clung to all the places her night rail moulded to her now ample curves. She raced to the kitchen, clumsy in her haste and thankful for the efficiency of her new range. Sofia paced the room while she waited for the water to heat, but paused when she noticed a tray at the door. The rain had stopped and someone from the kitchens had slipped in and left Christopher a meal. Abashed that she hadn’t even considered his hunger when satiating other appetites felt so much more urgent, she carried the plate of food to their room.

Christopher was seated on the bed in his small clothes, one leg kicked up to remove his stockings. He froze beneath her heated perusal, then stood, ambling towards her. “You have food. And I thought I loved you before.”

“Mrs Simmons sent it, so I suppose I’ll have to share some of your affection.” She watched the movement of his muscles as he approached, efficient and lithe. Sparse, sandy hair curled on his chest, thickening down the centre of his stomach and disappearing into the drawers that hung low on his lean hips. She had seen his bare chest before, but tonight, alone in this house where they would live as man and wife, every detail crystallised into exquisite focus.

He watched her with the same keen interest.

Food. He needs to eat.With effort, she tore her eyes away from where his small clothes tented and removed the lid from the tray. Mrs Simmons had heated roast beef, piled a mountain of steamed green beans, and added a hearty slice of brown bread. Christopher licked his lips, but his gaze remained on her offering only briefly before shifting back to her.

“On the bed?” Sofia asked.

He nodded, patting the place beside him. “Sit with me.”

“I’ll fetch the water. It should be hot.”

“I can do that after I finish eating, Sofi. Stay and talk with me.”

She settled in beside him, and he turned his attention to his roast beef, scarcely chewing before taking the next bite. He listened while she rambled on, and she pilfered occasional bits of his food to distract herself from blatantly staring at his body.

Her interest wasn’t relegated to his intriguing parts. It was all of him. The strength of his fingers wrapped about the handle of his fork. The muscles in his throat when he worked to swallow. His long bare toes and masculine feet. He was elegance and virility and an economic strength all blended together with a magnetic grin. Feeding her the last bite of bread from his fingers, Christopher left to fetch the water.

With a few trips up and down the stairs, enough hot water had been added to take the chill off the bath. Christopher tested the temperature with his fingers, then turned to find Sofia sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed, quite shamelessly watching him.

Completely unabashed, he dragged the thin cotton material of his small clothes down his legs and stepped into the tub. Sighing as he leaned back, his long eyelashes fluttered closed.

Without those intense grey eyes trained on her, Sofia’s bravery swelled. Sliding off the bed, she padded softly across the rug to kneel beside him. Rivulets of water trickled down his arms where they were propped along the sides, and his chest rose and fell in long, even pulls.

“Hello there,” he murmured without opening his eyes. Then he smiled as if he could see her surprise even with his lids still closed. “I can feel you watching me and I can smell you. Sun-warmed honeysuckle and Sofia.”

She scooped water into her hand, then trickled it over his shoulder to watch the drops meander down his collarbone, zigzagging further along his chest. His head drifted to the side, exposing his neck and stretching the thick tendon there. Accepting his invitation, she repeated the process, cupping her hand with water and drizzling it over the muscular curve of his neck. She followed the droplets with the tips of her fingers, trailing them across his bounding pulse then down his chest to tease slow circles around one puckered nipple. He hissed and gripped the side of the tub with both hands. “Sweet mercy, that feels?—”

“Dip under and I’ll wash your hair.”

Sofia lathered the soap in her hands and scraped her fingers into his hair, gently massaging his scalp. Then she smoothed the suds down his neck, shoulders, and arms.

He sighed. “And now I will have that cake of soap from you, my love, because I’ve gone quite long enough without touching you and I’m eager to be out of this bathtub.”

She handed him the cake of soap somewhat reluctantly, and he washed the rest of himself in quick, economical movements. When he stepped out of the tub, she met him with a length of towelling then turned to stoke the fire. A moment later, she felt him all along her back, his hands bracketing her hips, warm and steady. His solid body pressed to her back conjured feelings of contentment and safety that left her vibrating with pleasure. He wrapped his arms around her, kissing the top of her head, and she leaned back into his embrace. “I love you,” he said.

She covered his hands with her own and squeezed. “Sei la sempre nel mio cuore.”

“Mmm. That sounds lovely even when I have no idea what it means.”

Sofia watched the flickering fire and the dance of golden light upon the papered wall, overwhelmed by such a strong sense of rightness that she scarcely wanted to move or speak for fear that it would burst like a bubble and disappear. Home, with this lovely man curled about her body. She could think of no greater pleasure.

“You are forever in my heart. Sei la sempre nel mio cuore,”

He kissed her temple. “I like it even more now. Shame I have to ruin the moment with a truly awkward question, but before we… It seems as if…”

Sofia giggled. “Out with it, Christopher.”

He sighed. “I know we are here alone. But I don’t want you to feel as if I am assuming we will… If you would rather wait?—”

“I would not. Like to wait, that is.”

His shoulders relaxed. “Are you nervous?”

“No. I suppose I should be. Virgins are meant to be nervous.”

“I’m glad you’re not.”

Another moment of silence.

“Are you nervous?” She felt his smile against her hair.

“A bit. I want to make this right for you, but when I’m with you, I have the tendency to lose my head.”

“I quite like it when you lose your head.”

His arms tightened around her. “Yes, I know. But not the first time. The first time is for soft caresses and easing inside untried places. I would give you restraint and care, Sofia, though neither are at the forefront of my mind when you are touching me. I feel desperate for you. Like my next breath depends upon yours. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.”

She turned in his arms and kissed him sweetly. “Less thinking and worrying. I am here, in our home, and I want you in every way I can have you.” She trailed her fingers down his sides and over his lean hips. Sofia kissed him again, less sweetness and more lust, and nipped his lower lip for emphasis. She chose her next words with care, knowing that arousal would take the edge from his anxiety.

“Now take off my night rail and give me what I want.” She flicked her tongue across his lower lip, watched his eyes darken at the command.

Placing a hand on each shoulder, he turned her, kissing the nape of her neck and freeing the three tiny buttons at the collar. Before she could lift her arms for him to remove the garment, he sank one hand deep into her loose curls, gently tugging her head to the side. She felt his breath waft across her exposed throat and her pulse hammered in reply, shivery anticipation curling in her stomach.

He murmured against her skin, deep and gravely, “Oh Sofia, I do not like to be told what to do.” He did. They both knew he did. She felt the evidence now, thick against the swell of her arse. “You will wait and be good while I have my fill of you.”

He kissed the shell of her ear, coaxing breathy sounds from her lips. “I’ve been waiting an awfully long time to have you naked and sprawled out before me. I intend to take my time.”

Attuned to every swell of her desire, he applied himself to rousing her with impassioned diligence, as if he were collecting every gasp and hitched breath to keep for himself. One hand smoothed over her breasts, circling each nipple in turn, as the other held her firmly against his arousal. Sofia squirmed, arching into his mouth, and he bit down on the tender skin of her neck. She clutched his thigh as unexpected tendrils of heat unfurled deep in the pit of her stomach at the scrape of his teeth. Christopher exhaled a low, delighted purr, as if he had a ring full of keys and the first one he slid inside the lock had turned with a decisive click.

“You like that.” The velvety pleasure in his voice went directly to her quim. “Oh, Sofi. I”m going to spread your legs and nibble at the insides of your thighs until you are dripping wet for me. Linger there until my mouth is watering and my cock is throbbing, until every coherent thought crumbles beneath unendurable arousal. And then I’m going to open my mouth against your slick folds and devour you.”

With a groan, she turned in his arms, scrambling to get her mouth, her tongue, her teeth against any skin she could reach. Her kisses shifted from his jaw to his collarbone, then down his chest. She sucked his nipple into her mouth and he panted, digging his fingers into her hips. When she pressed the hardened peak with the flat of her tongue, the noise he made flooded her core.

“That’s enough of that now.” Christopher caught her hands with his and laced their fingers at her side, holding her in place. His habitually twinkling eyes glinted with hunger as he worked to slow his breaths. He pinned her gaze with his own as if that connection was the last thread preventing him from spiralling out of control. When he kissed her again, the cadence of his touch had shifted into something slower, more determined. She tried to slide her hands from his grasp, but he adjusted his hold, his thumbs working maddeningly soft circles into the inside of her wrists.

Despite the urge to break free, to press deeper into the circle of his arms and force his pace, there was a beseeching quality to his expression that gave her pause. Sofia relaxed her muscles, loosened her clasp on his hands, and gave him what he wanted. She softened against him, submitting, and he all but purred into her mouth.

“So good, my Sofi. You’re perfect.”

Christopher released her hands, his fingertips travelling up her arms to trace the shape of her breasts.

When her eyelids drifted closed and her head lolled to the side, he stopped.

“Open, Sofia. Watch.” Eyes snapping open to obey his decisive tone, she followed the deliberate path of his thumb, the textured pad rasping across one nipple. It peaked and pressed against the thin cotton shift that gaped across her chest. Her jaw fell slack at the expression on his face—tense with euphoric agony, pupils blown wide.

Easing his hands to the small of her back, he arched her spine, lifting her breast to fill his open mouth. He suckled her through the material, taking quick urgent pulls. Sofia’s hands threaded into his hair, holding him in place.

“Christoph…” His name faded away into an incoherent mewl.

Christopher responded with a long, satisfied groan and a hard flick of his tongue across her throbbing peak.

Heat and restless agitation plucked through her veins as one of his hands came up to knead at her other breast. Abandoning her hold on his hair, she reached for his hips, fingers sliding towards his cock… where they were promptly batted away. She moaned in frustration and his mouth gentled. He nuzzled across the damp material of her night rail, playing lightly at her nipple with his lips and the tip of his tongue. It was no less maddening. Again, she reached for his length. This time, her palm slid across moisture that had leaked from the tip and he shuddered, grasping her hand and placing it firmly on his shoulder.

“I’ll come in your hands if you stroke me, love. Do not touch me. I mean it. Test me, and I will see you writhing on the edge of climax until you are sobbing for release.” The roughness in his voice was allayed by a series of soft kisses to her cheek, her eyelids, her temple.

“Lift your arms, Sofi.”

She did as she was bid and he slipped the garment over her head, dropping it at her feet.

“Look at you… My God, just look at you.”

She could hear his breaths. Deep, ragged inhalations, as if he couldn’t fill his lungs with enough air. He didn’t touch her, just stood as if he had forgotten how to work his arms. She reached for his hands, toyed with the tips of his fingers.

“Kiss me,” he murmured. Then he stood perfectly still as every inch of her naked body brushed ever so lightly against his.

With a guttural expletive he lurched a half step backwards and his hand darted down between their bodies. She followed its path to find him squeezing just behind the rounded head of his cock. Raising her gaze, she watched helplessly as his face flushed bright red and his eyes slammed shut.

She reached for his forearm and pressed slow, soothing strokes to his skin. His entire body was tense, his lips pressed together in something like agony. After a few moments, he raised both palms to his eyes and pressed them into his sockets, releasing a long, slow breath. He stared at her then, shaking his head. She glanced to his length, which remained flushed and erect.

“Christopher?”

The head shaking resumed.

She stepped closer, and he flinched as if she had struck him. Swallowing down the hurt of his rejection, she eased closer again, careful to keep her body apart from his. Sofia remembered his embarrassment from the night in the billiards room and decided this must be similar, though he had not climaxed.

She cupped his cheek and brushed her thumb across his skin affectionately. “Christopher. If you come, can I make you do it again?” She wished she didn’t have to ask, but she didn’t know enough about these things and she couldn’t think of how else to reassure him, if that was indeed his concern.

His eyes looked glassy and were fixed somewhere over her right shoulder.

“My love. Will you talk to me?” Sofia asked.

He blinked as if waking up from an unpleasant dream. “No. I don’t want to talk about this.” His words were clipped, and he stepped away from her to bend and retrieve his towel.

She caught his wrist and tugged him back to stand.

“That is too bad because we are going to talk about it.” She could hear the edge to her voice and tried to modulate the peevish pitch.

“Not now, Sofi. I need a moment.”

“Yes now. Stop acting like a petulant child.” She released a string of Italian, ending her tirade with a stomp of her foot.

He raised his eyebrows, and she saw a flicker of the man she adored peeking his way back into the conversation.

Sofia reached for his hands, lacing them with her own. “If you come before…” she began again.

He snapped his hands away. “I don’t know. I don’t know, blast it!” He took a fortifying breath but did not reach for her again. “And at this juncture, it’s a moot point. He gestured to his cock which had indeed lost a degree of its enthusiasm. “Please let me have a towel. I am embarrassed enough as it is.”

She sighed and capitulated, reaching for the discarded towelling and holding it out between her fingers.

He made short work of wrapping it around his body, then ran a hand through his hair. A long, uncomfortable moment passed between them where neither seemed to know what came next.

“You should go to bed, Sofi. It’s late. I’m going to take a walk.”

“Please don’t go.” She lunged, grabbing his wrist. “You’re being too hard on yourself. Putting too much pressure on yourself.”

“At least something’s hard,” he muttered.

She wanted to agree that he should leave so that when he did it wouldn’t hurt so much. So she could tell herself that it was what she wanted anyway, that she’d told him to do it. But she bit back the words that would have come so easily to her only months ago. He wasn’t her papa. Or her mother. Or her brother. He was Christopher, and she had to believe that if she asked him to stay—if she asked him to hold her—he would.

It was the simplest request, but it required more courage than she had ever mustered.

“Stay. Stay and hold me then. Please don’t go.”

He softened immediately. His eyes, brooding and distant just moments before, warmed into a deep, affectionate grey. In two sweeping steps, she was crushed against him, his cheek resting on her head. “Of course I’ll stay. Of course I will. And we’ll talk. I’ll talk. We’ll work it out. I’m sorry I was an arse.” The tumble of words continued. “Of course I will hold you. Christ, I need you to hold me. I hate this. I wanted it to be perfect and ever since the last time…” He sighed and kissed the top of her head. “Come on, let’s go to bed and talk.”