Chapter 11 #3
All that mattered was this woman in his arms, and the hope that she might come to care for him as deeply as he was beginning to care for her.
Henri lay beneath Gabriel’s weight, her body still trembling from the extraordinary sensations he had introduced her to.
She felt changed, transformed in ways she could never have imagined when she had awakened that morning.
The ache between her thighs was a strange mixture of soreness and satisfaction, a physical reminder of what had transpired between them.
Henri was nearly thirty years old, so she had overheard a thing or two about carnal relations in a well-attended place like Westminster.
The wives of politicians were not always as discreet as they might be when they thought themselves among friends, and Henri had gleaned enough information over the years to understand the basic mechanics of what occurred between husband and wife.
Yet she was surprised to feel Gabriel’s appendage swelling and lengthening inside her, growing firm and insistent once more.
Her mouth fell open with the realization that it was hardening again, his body preparing to take her a second time, just as his mouth claimed her lips in a deep and drugging kiss.
The sensation was startling and terribly erotic.
She could feel him growing within her, stretching her anew, making her breath catch with the unexpected indulgence of it as her pleasure mounted again.
Henri pulled away from his kiss for just an instant, just long enough to meet his eyes and whisper the words that had been hovering on her lips since they had entered the bedchamber. “Henrietta,” she said breathlessly. “Henri to my family.”
Gabriel’s eyes darkened, as though her permission to use her given name meant far more to him than simple courtesy. “Henri,” he murmured, testing her name on his lips like a prayer. “My beautiful Henri.”
This time, their joining was different. Where before Gabriel had been careful, gentle, mindful of her inexperience, now there was a new urgency between them. Henri found herself responding with equal fervor, her body already knowing his rhythm, already craving the pleasure he could bring her.
She marveled at the way her body knew what to do without instruction, how her hips rose to meet his thrusts, how her legs wrapped around his waist to draw him deeper. The sounds that escaped her throat were foreign to her own ears and seemed to drive Gabriel to greater heights of passion.
“You feel so perfect,” Gabriel groaned against her throat, his voice rough with desire. “So tight, so warm. I cannot get enough of you.”
Henri felt a surge of feminine pride at his words, at the evidence of how thoroughly she affected him. This powerful, controlled man was losing himself in her, and the knowledge filled her with a heady sense of her own power.
Gabriel’s movements became more urgent, more demanding, and Henri found herself swept along in the tide of sensation. Her hands roamed over the broad expanse of his back, feeling the play of muscles beneath his skin, the slight dampness of perspiration that spoke to his exertion.
When Gabriel shifted his angle slightly, Henri cried out in shock and pleasure as he found a spot within her that made stars dance behind her eyelids.
He understood her reaction immediately, repeating the movement until Henri was writhing beneath him, her hands clutching at his shoulders as sensation built to an unbearable peak.
“Let go,” Gabriel commanded, hoarse with need. “Let me see you fall apart again, Henri. Let me watch you come undone.”
The words pushed Henri over the edge, and she found herself convulsing around him, her body clenching rhythmically as waves of pleasure crashed over her. The intensity of it was even greater than before, leaving her gasping and shaking in Gabriel’s arms.
Gabriel’s own release followed moments later.
He growled deep in his throat, tossing his head back in ecstasy, and Henri was amazed, smugly proud, that she could solicit such primal responses in a man so aloof and controlled.
To see him lose that careful composure, to know that she was the cause of his abandon, filled her with a satisfaction that went far beyond the physical pleasure they had shared.
Then he collapsed his long, hard body over hers, catching himself on his elbows so he would not crush her with his weight. His face pressed into the side of her neck in an oddly affectionate gesture that made Henri’s heart clench with unexpected tenderness.
For long moments they lay like that, breathing hard, hearts thumping in unison.
Henri found herself thinking about what Mr. Tyne had told her earlier.
Gabriel was intensely private, how even his closest associates struggled to understand what he was thinking.
Despite his stoic exterior, Gabriel did hold her in high regard. He wished to forge a closer connection.
The aggravating man needed her. Henri recalled that glimpse of raw thirst she had seen lurking in his eyes.
The realization made her spirits soar as she understood better how to make this new path palatable.
Perhaps marriage to Gabriel would not mean the loss of her independence so much as the gaining of a purpose she had never considered.
It was up to her to draw him out, to help make him whole.
“Gabriel,” Henri whispered, her fingers combing through his sandy hair as he nuzzled against her throat. “Are you well?”
He lifted his head to look down at her, and Henri was startled by the vulnerability she saw in his hazel eyes. Gone was the careful mask he usually wore, replaced by naked honesty that made her breath catch.
“More than well,” Gabriel replied quietly. “Henri, I … what we just shared …” He seemed to struggle with words, as though the emotions coursing through him were too complex to express easily.
Henri looked up into his eyes, seeing the hope and fear warring there, understanding suddenly that this proud, controlled man was laying his heart bare before her.
Even as he fought for his self-control, the knowledge that she held such power over him, that she could bring him joy or devastation, was both thrilling and terrifying.
As she lay beneath him, their bodies still joined, feeling the steady beat of his heart against her chest, Henri found her acceptance of her new path.
After all, what challenge could be more worthy of her intelligence and determination than unlocking the mysteries of Gabriel Strathmore’s guarded heart?
Gabriel helped Henri clean herself, his hands gentle with a dampened cloth from the basin.
The intimacy of the act, tending to her in this tender way, felt more vulnerable somehow than what they had just shared.
He was acutely aware of every soft sound she made, every flutter of her lashes as she watched him minister to her.
When he finished, Gabriel found himself at a loss.
The desperate need to secure her agreement pressed against his chest like a physical weight.
He had shown her passion, pleasure, the promise of what their marriage could hold.
But would it be enough? The uncertainty clawed at him, making him feel more exposed than he had ever been in a negotiation.
Never had the stakes been so personal, so vital to his very existence.
He climbed back into the bed beside her, his movements careful and controlled despite the chaos in his mind.
Gabriel pulled the coverlet over them both, then hesitated, unsure whether to reach for her or maintain a respectful distance.
The moment stretched between them, heavy with unspoken words and the weight of decisions yet to be made.
Henri settled the matter by turning toward him, her soft body seeking his. Gabriel’s arms came around her instinctively, drawing her close against his chest. The simple trust in her gesture made his throat tight with emotion he barely recognized.
“Gabriel,” Henri whispered against his shoulder, soft but clear in the quiet room. “I will marry you.”
The words washed over him, stealing his breath entirely. Gabriel went rigid, certain he had misheard, that his desperate mind was conjuring the very words he most longed to hear. But Henri lifted her head to meet his gaze, and the steady determination in her eyes confirmed what she had said.
Joy. Pure, overwhelming, and utterly foreign.
It crashed over him in waves which he did his best to hide.
Gabriel had known satisfaction, triumph, even contentment, but this feeling was different.
It filled every corner of his being, bright and warm and so intense it was almost painful.
For a moment, he could not speak, could not breathe, could only stare at her in wonder.
“You … you truly mean it?” The question escaped him before he could stop it, revealing the depth of his uncertainty. “This is not some stratagem to make me lower my guard so you might escape?”
Henri’s lips curved in a wry smile. “As you so astutely pointed out, I have never been good at keeping secrets. I am honest to a fault, and it would be nigh impossible for me to pretend such a thing convincingly.” Her expression grew more serious.
“And I keep my promises, Gabriel. When I give my word, it means something.”
Gabriel searched her face, looking for any sign of deception, any hint that this was merely a clever maneuver. But all he saw was Henri—brilliant, fierce, beautiful Henri—staring back at him with an acceptance that made his heart race.
Unable to contain himself any longer, Gabriel pulled her fully into his arms, burying his face in the fragrant locks of her hair.
He breathed her in deeply, this woman who had agreed to be his wife, who had just given him everything he had scarcely dared to hope for.
The sweetness of her filled his senses. The subtle scent of her skin, the feel of her body pressed against his, the steady rhythm of her breathing.
“Henri,” he murmured against her temple, her name a prayer on his lips. “My Henri.”
She nestled closer to him, her hand resting over his heart as though she could feel the way it thundered in his chest. Gabriel tightened his hold on her, as if she might disappear if he loosened his grip even slightly.
Sleep should have come easily after such emotional and physical exertion, but Gabriel found himself caught in a restless half-doze.
The moment his eyes closed, the dreams began.
Memories of his grandfather’s cold rejection, the disgust in those pale blue eyes when Gabriel had grieved as a boy.
“Five years old and already displaying such weakness,” the old man’s harsh criticisms echoed in his mind.
He jolted awake with a gasp, his heart pounding, only to find Henri still warm and solid in his arms. The relief was immediate and overwhelming.
She was here, she had chosen him, she had promised.
Gabriel buried his face in her hair, breathing in her scent like a talisman against the ghosts that plagued him.
But each time he drifted off again, the dreams returned.
His grandfather’s cutting disgust, the certainty that he was fundamentally unworthy of love, that anyone who claimed to care for him was either lying or would inevitably leave when they discovered his true nature.
He would wake with a start, his arms automatically tightening around Henri to reassure himself that she was still there, that this was not some elaborate dream destined to crumble like everything else he had ever dared to want.
Each time he surfaced from the tormented sleep, the joy of her acceptance would wash over him anew, followed quickly by a fierce protectiveness and the paralyzing fear that, somehow, he would lose her too.
Gabriel held her through the night, his body finally finding rest even as his heart remained full to bursting with this new, precious happiness that Henri had given him, along with the creeping dread that he would lose her if he misstepped.