Chapter 31 #2
He raised his head. “Open yourself to me, Sophia.”
Sophia relaxed, and his tongue took the place of his fingers on her pear.
As he licked her, Sophia trembled. When his tongue flicked against her slick nub, it was too much.
Her body filled with an exquisite sensation that started with a tingle and erupted into pure bliss that raced through her veins like fire.
When her throes of ecstasy subsided, she gave one last small whimper.
Edward lifted his head, then gathered her close as the last shudder rippled through her, holding her against his chest until the tremor eased.
Sophia lay trembling in the aftermath, her body still humming with sensation. Edward stretched out beside her, propped on one elbow, watching her with eyes dark with satisfaction and something deeper.
She reached for him, pulling his mouth down to hers. The kiss was languid now, unhurried, the desperate urgency replaced by something softer. He gathered her against his chest, his hand stroking down her spine in long, soothing motions.
“Are you all right?” His voice was a low rumble against her hair.
“More than all right.” She pressed a kiss to his collarbone. “I did not know it could be like that.”
His arms tightened around her. “Neither did I.”
She shifted against him and felt the evidence of his arousal pressing against her hip. Her eyes flew to his face.
“Edward…”
“No.” He shook his head, his jaw tight with restraint. “Not here. Not in your father’s house.” His thumb traced circles on her shoulder. “When I take you, it will be in our home. In our bed. Properly.”
A shiver ran through her at his words. “When you take me?”
His eyes darkened. “When you are ready. When you want it. Not a moment before.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I can wait.”
Sophia studied his face, the tension in his jaw, the heat banked behind his eyes.
He wanted her. The evidence was undeniable. And yet he held himself back, putting her comfort before his desire.
“Stay.” She curled closer to him. “Stay with me tonight.”
He hesitated for only a moment. Then he reached down and pulled the coverlet over them both, settling her more securely against his side.
“I am not going anywhere.”
Sophia closed her eyes. His heartbeat was steady beneath her ear, his warmth surrounding her like a shield against the world. For the first time since her wedding day, she did not feel trapped.
She felt found.
She woke to morning light and the unfamiliar weight of an arm across her waist.
Edward slept beside her; his face relaxed in a way she had never seen it. The harsh lines were softened, the perpetual tension gone. He looked younger. Peaceful. Human, in a way he rarely allowed himself to be.
Sophia watched him breathe and felt something expand in her chest. Something fragile and fierce and terrifying in its intensity.
His eyes opened. For a moment, confusion flickered there. Then memory returned, and his gaze warmed.
“Good morning.” His voice was rough with sleep.
“Good morning.” She smiled. “You stayed.”
“I told you I would.” He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Did you sleep well?”
“Better than I have in weeks.”
Something like satisfaction crossed his features. He leaned in and kissed her, soft and sweet, a promise of more to come.
“We should rise.” He pulled back with obvious reluctance. “Before the servants begin to talk.”
“Let them talk.” Sophia traced the line of his jaw with her fingertip. “We are married, after all.”
His lips curved into something that was almost a smile. “We are.” He captured her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. “And I intend to make the most of it. Starting when we return to London.”
The promise in his voice sent heat curling through her belly. She sat up, suddenly aware of her disheveled state, her wrinkled nightgown, the evidence of the night before written across her flushed skin.
“We should say our goodbyes to my parents.” She slipped out of bed and reached for her dressing gown. “Oliver will be eager to see the fish one more time.”
Edward rose as well, straightening his clothes. He moved toward the connecting door, then paused. He crossed back to her in two strides and caught her face between his hands.
“Thank you.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “For last night. For everything.”
“You do not need to thank me.” She echoed her words from the night before.
“I do.” He kissed her once more, brief but thorough. “And I will spend every day proving to you that you made the right choice.”
He slipped through the connecting door, leaving Sophia standing in the morning light, her heart so full she thought it might burst.
The journey back to London felt different.
Oliver chattered as before, recounting his adventures with Grandfather, his plans for the hedgehogs, and his certainty that Thunder would be very jealous to hear about Biscuit the horse. But something had shifted in the carriage. The air felt charged. Electric.
Edward sat across from her, his eyes finding hers with a frequency that made her pulse race. Once, when Oliver dozed against her side, Edward reached across the space between them and took her hand. He held it for the rest of the journey, his thumb tracing lazy patterns across her knuckles.
When they arrived at Heatherwell House, Oliver bounded up the stairs to tell Mrs. Palmer about the fish. Sophia stood in the entrance hall, suddenly uncertain what came next.
Edward dismissed the servants with a few quiet words. Then he turned to her.
“Dinner at eight?” His voice was low, meant only for her.
“Dinner at eight.”
He lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. His eyes held hers, dark with promise.
“And after?”
Her breath caught. “After.”
He smiled. A real smile, unguarded and warm, that transformed his face into something breathtaking.
“Until tonight, Sophia.”
He released her hand and walked toward his study, his footsteps echoing through the hall. Sophia watched him go, her heart racing, her body humming with anticipation.
Tonight.
She pressed her hand to her chest and tried to remember how to breathe.