Chapter Fifteen #2
Over and over, he stroked into her body, taking, claiming, fusing—loving.
There was no doubt that he was lost in the glory that was Emma.
The deeper he went, the more frantic and intense his thrusts became.
In that joining, when they heaved together and their bodies were one, he knew he would always love her, regardless of what the future held.
“Cecil…”Her eyes shuttered. Twin spots of color stained her cheeks.
A few tendrils of hair tumbled from their pins.
She burrowed her fingernails into his shoulders, and he welcomed the prick of pain, for it kept him as focused as he could be while losing himself in her bliss.
When she locked her ankles and her heels dug into his backside, his hold on control snapped. “Give me more.”
“Haven’t I always?” Yet he pushed with ever more fervor. The need to claim her became greater than everything else. “Tell me you’re close.” His words were raw, ragged, propelled into being by emotions he refused to acknowledge.
“Nearly.” She restlessly tossed her head. Her inner muscles fluttered around his length, ushering in the beginning of the end. “Dig deep, Thornton. Send me over with great prejudice.”
“Soon.” Nearly gone, Cecil clenched his jaw, held back the urge to finish in order to slide a hand between their bodies. When he found the slippery, swollen button at her center, he rubbed his fingers over it with varying degrees of friction.
Emma’s eyes rolled back in her head. She bucked her hips, which buried him ever deeper, and he hissed out a warning. “I… I… Oh!” The cry startled them both, but there was nothing for it. “Yes!”
As she rushed into that release, he renewed his hold on her and gave himself over to fucking the hell out of her.
His strokes were frantic and hard, and all too soon hot sensation raced through his stones and shaft.
He pumped for all he was worth, hoping she’d reach orgasm, and when her body stiffened and she clutched at him, he grinned and claimed her mouth, taking her energetic cry into himself.
Damn, but she was beautiful.
Release crashed over him, through him, roared along every nerve ending like a voracious beast. The coupling changed him; each time did with her, and he looked forward to that.
Again and again, he pumped into her contracting passage even as his member pulsed and jumped.
For long seconds, he lost himself to the act of spending; and for one moment, he had the errant thought that perhaps this joining would be the one to plant a babe in her belly.
Then it was over. He held her close, keeping her safe between himself and the wall.
As his heartbeat returned to a normal pace and his breathing evened, he pulled slightly back from her to peer into her face. A pink flush had overtaken her chest and cheeks, but she stared back at him with satiation in her gray eyes and unmistakable love in her expression.
It nearly brought him to his knees.
“That was quite acceptable, Thornton, and exactly what I needed this evening to get me through the next several hours.”
“Never change, Emma. Keep that tart mouth and quick wit.” Then he kissed her before finally setting her on her feet, waiting until she’d steadied herself before releasing her. “Will you even be able to dance tonight?”
“Ha.” She gave him a mock-smack to the arm. “Don’t flatter yourself, Your Grace. It wasn’t earth shattering.” With a bit of a rolled eye, she set her gown to rights and smoothed the fabric over her body as he started in shocked silence.
“What?”
She giggled and the sound went straight to his heart. “You’ve done better, and I did expect that you’d want to do this somewhere a bit more… exciting.”
“Oh, I’ll make you eat those words, my girl,” he couldn’t help but respond as he put his own clothing to rights. “As I eat something much more stimulating and oh so wet,” he added with a wink.
The pink in her cheeks deepened. “Do hush, Thornton.” Yet she seemed quite pleased with the idea.
Two hours into the ball, and Cecil was shocked he was enjoying himself.
A few of his clubmates were in attendance. Catching up with them had made him happy. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed interacting with the men on a regular basis in London, and it put a longing inside his chest to return to Town, at least for a little while.
Throughout the time, he’d shared two sets with Emma.
One had been a country reel and the other had been a Viennese waltz.
To be honest, he’d much preferred the private waltz he’d had with her the other day in this very room, but beyond that, the decorations had made the space so festive that even he couldn’t help grinning.
How proud of his wife was he? Never had he seen the room as sparkly or magical as it was on this Valentine’s Day.
Everywhere his gaze went, reds and pinks and golds brightened corners and festooned floral arrangements.
Silhouettes of cherubs and cupids popped up in unusual places, and when guests gathered around the refreshments table that rested just outside the ballroom, by and large there were compliments on everyone’s lips.
Emma had done what his parents and his sister had failed—she’d brought life and happiness back to Thornton Manor, and dare he say love?
Amazing what could happen when he allowed fate to have its way without running from what was in store.
Another hour later saw him running up to his suite to do the necessary in his own chamber pot, and when he came back down, the long case clock on the second level announced the eleventh hour of the night.
Some of his guests who’d travelled a long way would stay the night so they could return home in the morning.
Though he didn’t wish for more people underfoot, he didn’t want to be seen as a poor host, and driving at night was treacherous.
Inside the ballroom, a country reel was in progress.
A quick look through the couples on the floor didn’t produce his wife.
With a frown, Cecil continued to search for her, and when he couldn’t find her, tendrils of hot panic climbed through his chest. Then, near one of the sets of double French-paned doors at the back of the room, he heard her voice as she spoke to a man behind a screen of potted ferns and other lush fauna.
“Please say you’ll share the next set with me, Your Grace.”
Cecil narrowed his gaze when he recognized the voice of the “Duke” of Galahad. What the devil was he doing here? As much as he wished to run his clubmate out by his collar, he lingered to see if his wife would betray him.
“As much as I would like to, I am going to seek out my husband, which I should do right now, in fact.” She’d almost come out from behind the plants, but Galahad dared to catch her hand in his, saying her flight.
“Reconsider, duchess,” he implored her in a whispered hiss.
“Unhand me this instant.” The haughtiness in her tone warmed Cecil’s heart.
“Not until you promise to come away with me.” The rustle of fabric indicated that one of them had moved, and it was probably Galahad.
“Thornton is no good for you, Emma, if I may be so bold as to use your Christian name. I truly feel you are in danger the longer you remain with him, and I can’t live with myself at night knowing I did nothing to keep you safe. ”
“There is nothing about Thornton that frightens me.” Frost was firmly in her voice, and Cecil couldn’t help but rally. “And I’ll remind you that he is my husband. I refuse to break my vows to him regardless of how tempting you might be.”
At least she was honest.
Still, Cecil’s body went taut with annoyance.
“Be logical, duchess. A woman like you is wasted on a man like Thornton. You and I are so much better matched. A golden couple, if you will. Imagine how we can turn society on its head together.”
Had the man no shame?
What sounded like a huff escaped her. A flash of crimson met his eye between the branches of the floral arrangements.
“I have asked you politely to leave me alone, but you didn’t listen.
So now I’ll ask you rudely. Do not think to touch me again, Lord Galahad, else I will find my husband and encourage him to have words with you. ”
Galahad laughed, as if he didn’t believe Cecil was capable of such. “He is long past his prime, so why not give me a chance?”
He couldn’t remain quiet any longer. Coming around the display of ferns and flowers, Cecil pried Galahad’s hand from Emma’s arm then inserted himself bodily between them.
“I believe the lady said she wasn’t fucking interested in you, Galahad.
” When Emma laid a hand on his back and gave him an encouraging pat, he felt more than justified at the interruption.
“Ah, Thornton.” The other man’s lips curved into a smile that mocked more than it welcomed. “I appreciate the invitation to your ball tonight.”
“Yet you showed that appreciation by trying to steal away my wife,” he said as one of his hands curled into a fist.
“It’s your own fault since you’ve done nothing of note to keep her.”
Why the deuce was this man one of his friends? Where he’d first thought that Galahad was halfway teasing about his interest in Emma, now Cecil was convinced that wasn’t true.
“You have no idea how I have grown in my life.” There was a certain amount of pride as he stated that, for since losing his mind and kidnapping his wife, he had made strides in maturing.
“Now, I shall ask that you leave the premises.” It rocked him to his core when he’d heard Emma talking to this man, but she’d shown him—again—that she’d been loyal to him.
Galahad snorted, and as the country reel came to an end, he shook his head. “Not until I’m done here.” He dismissed Cecil with his gaze as he landed it on Emma. “Please think about what I said. You can do much better than him.”
Emma peered out from behind him. “While that may be true in many opinions, Thornton is the perfect man for me. That is what matters.”
“Such a waste.” Galahad tsked his tongue while shaking his head. “I won’t give up.”
“You will, and let me show you why.” His words sounded overly loud in the sudden silence of the end of the set, and this time, he grabbed Galahad by the back of his tailcoat then quickly ushered him from the ballroom and onto the terrace beyond by way of one of the sets of double doors.
“Unhand me, Thornton.” A warning had set up in the other man’s voice.
Cecil tossed the other man ahead of him, watched him stumble a few steps to keep his balance.
As he’d listened to exchange inside the ballroom, a red film had fallen over his eyes.
Rage had risen to the surface. He would not tolerate such disrespect again.
“I warned you the other day that if you didn’t stay away from my wife, there would be consequences.
” Frankly, he couldn’t wait to plant a fist into his friend’s smug face.
“Now, stand and deliver, for you won’t be given another chance to romance my wife. ”