Chapter 8 #2
With fumbling fingers, she reached between them to unfasten his breeches.
Nicolas broke the kiss, his breath coming in harsh pants as he helped her push the garment down and off.
When he settled back over her, she gasped at the feel of his bare skin against hers, the heat of him searing her to her very soul.
“Emily,” he said, his voice rough with need. “Are you certain?”
She met his gaze, seeing the mix of desire and concern reflecting back at her. “More certain than I have ever been,” she breathed. “I want you inside of me, Nicolas. I crave you.”
A groan tore from his throat as he captured her lips once more. His hand slid down her body, fingers dancing over her heated flesh until he reached the apex of her thighs. Her hips bucked as he stroked her, finding her still slick and ready from his earlier attentions.
“Fill me,” she gasped against his mouth as she pressed her hips toward him.
Nicolas positioned himself at her entrance, his manhood pressing against her core. Slowly, exquisitely, he eased inside her, his gaze locked with hers. Emily’s lips parted on a soft gasp as he entered her, stretching and completing her in ways she had nearly forgotten existed.
She rocked her hips greedily, desperate to feel him move.
He groaned, his forehead pressed against hers as he fought for control. “Easy, love. Let me savor you.”
She whimpered, her body ablaze with need. Every nerve ending singing with pleasure. When Nicolas finally moved, she thought she might combust from the sheer ecstasy of it.
He set a languid pace at first, each deep thrust stoking the fire within her. Emily met him movement for movement, her legs wrapping around his waist to draw him closer. Her hands roamed over the planes of his back, feeling the flex and play of muscle beneath her fingertips.
“Oh,” she gasped, arching into him. “Nicolas…Please.”
He answered her plea by increasing his tempo, driving into her with passionate intensity. The room filled with the sounds of their lovemaking—skin against skin, breathless moans, and whispered endearments.
Emily felt her desire build higher and higher as she chased that elusive peak. He slipped a hand between their bodies, his clever fingers finding that sensitive bundle of nerves. She cried out at the added stimulation, her body trembling on the precipice.
“Let go,” he urged, his voice rough with passion. “Come apart for me.”
His words were her undoing. With his name on her lips, Emily came apart, her release slamming into her. He followed her over the edge moments later, her name a reverent prayer on his lips.
The fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting a warm glow over their entwined limbs as she traced idle patterns on his chest, marveling at the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath her fingertips.
“That was...” she began, trailing off as words failed her.
He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. “Indeed, it was.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “You are full of surprises, my lady.”
She lifted her head to meet his gaze. “I will have you know, sir, that proper ladies can be quite scandalous when the mood strikes.”
“Oh?” His eyebrow arched in amusement. “And does the mood strike you often?”
“Perhaps more often than I care to admit when there is a handsome rake beneath my roof,” she replied, her cheeks flushing at her own boldness.
Nicolas’s arms tightened around her, drawing her closer. “Then I count myself fortunate to be the recipient of your scandalous attentions.”
Her heart swelled at his words, even as a flicker of uncertainty crept in. What would happen when morning came? When he was gone and reality intruded on their passionate interlude?
As if sensing her thoughts, Nicolas tilted her chin up, his gaze searching hers. “What troubles you?”
She bit her lip and shook her head. “Nothing,” she lied, not wanting to ruin the time she had with him. Emily settled her head against his chest, allowing herself to soak in the afterglow of what they had shared.
As the night wore on, Emily and Nicolas lay entwined in each other’s arms, their breaths mingled in the dimly lit bedroom. Contented smiles danced on their lips as they exchanged soft, lingering kisses and lighthearted banter.
Nicolas rubbed soothing circles on Emily’s back, his own gaze glowing with intensity in the firelight. “My darling Emily,” he said, his voice husky with emotion. “You have bewitched me entirely.”
She traced her fingers along the contours of his face, memorizing every detail. “And you have awakened something in me I thought long dead.”
Their bodies moved in perfect synchronicity, each touch igniting new sparks of pleasure. Emily marveled at how Nicolas anticipated her every desire, his hands and lips finding all the right places to make her gasp and shiver.
And as the heat between them built, she lost all sense of time and place. There was only Nicolas, only this night of pure, unbridled passion.
They made love again. Their movements a perfect blend of gentle caresses and passionate embraces. Emily felt herself being swept away by the tide of emotions, each wave bringing her closer to Nicolas in ways she had never believed possible.
As they reached the pinnacle of their pleasure, she clung to him, her body trembling with ecstasy. She gazed into his passion-filled eyes, finding herself lost in their depths.
“Nicolas,” she gasped, her voice barely above a whisper.
He held her close, his lean, athletic body pressed against hers. “Emily,” he breathed, his usual playful tone replaced by one of reverence.
For a moment, they remained frozen, savoring the intense wave of bliss that washed over them. Her heart raced, and she could feel his beating just as rapidly against her chest as their breaths filled the room.
Emily soon found herself nestled in Nicolas’s arms. The warmth of the fire caressing her skin, casting a soft glow across the room as they settled into a peaceful slumber.
As the first rays of dawn peeked through the curtains, Emily stirred, a contented smile playing on her lips as the memories of the previous night flooded her senses.
She stretched languidly, reaching for the warmth beside her, but the space was cold.
Empty. She sat up, the memory of their shared passion crashing down on her as she scanned the room, finding no trace of him.
“Nicolas?” She called out, her heart racing as she sat up, clutching the blanket to her chest. The room remained silent, save for the faint crackling of the dying embers in the fireplace.
As reality settled in, her gaze fell upon a folded piece of paper on the nightstand. With trembling fingers, she reached for it, her mind a whirl of emotions.
Dearest Emily,
Forgive me for leaving so suddenly, but I believe it was for the best—for both of us.
Yours, Nicolas
Her heart sunk as she read and reread the words he had written. “Best for who?” she seethed, running her fingers over the ink. He was a rogue after all, to leave without a word. But a coward, too? That was harder to swallow—and after what they had shared.
She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply as she tried to make sense of her conflicting emotions.
The joy of their intimate encounter still lingered, yet it was now tinged with heartache.
Had she been too forward? Too eager? Or was this simply another of his impulsive acts? She crumbled the letter in her hand.
As she rose from the bed, wrapping herself in her discarded nightgown, she could not help but feel a mix of heartache and anger. Nicolas had stirred feelings in her she thought long buried, and while he had not declared his love for her, his hasty departure stung.
She had given him her heart—her body, and now he was gone. Was she just another conquest to him, another fleeting moment in a rogue’s life?
Had she meant nothing to him?
Emily’s thoughts whirled as she fled the room, desperate to leave the memories of the prior night behind.