Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Thomas led her by the hand to his room, and she followed him closely with everything in her yearning to maintain this little distance between them for as long as she could.
It was such a small, simple thing – the warmth of his palm against hers, the deliberate steadiness of his steps as he guided her down the corridor – and yet Jane felt it everywhere.
It settled into the spaces between her ribs, pooled low in her stomach, spread outward until she was certain he could feel it too, through the simple press of his fingers.
She knew where they were going. She had been there before, under entirely different circumstances – had stood in his bedroom with her face burning and her heart stumbling over itself, clutching the drawing he had made of her, every line of it so intimates and knowing that she had barely been able to breathe.
And when he had found her there, what followed had undone her so thoroughly that she had spent a while afterwards trying to convince herself it had not.
But that had been stolen pleasure, almost guilty and quite desperate, something she had fled from with her walls hastily reassembled behind her.
This was different. She had told him she loved him, and he had sunk to his knees to prove that her love had nothing to fear.
Thomas pushed open the door to his bedroom and drew her inside, and when he turned to face her, she found that she could not look away from him.
There was something unguarded in his expression – something raw and unhurried that she had not seen before, as though now that she had chosen to stay, he no longer needed to keep his feelings away from his expressions and out of her sight.
Jane wondered what other discoveries lay ahead of them, what more she was bound to learn about him and how long it would take before their souls lay bare before each other.
“Jane,” he said quietly, and that was all it took to unravel her.
He kissed her slowly, nipping and sucking at her lips as his hands came up to frame her face, his thumbs brushing her cheekbones with the same care he gave to everything he loved, and she rose onto her toes to meet him.
The kiss deepened gradually, an inevitable occurrence as they drew closer and closer, as their eager desire made its way to the surface.
Jane moaned against him, already winded and he swallowed the sound hungrily, holding her in place as he continued to show just how much he craved her.
Soon, his fingers found the fastenings at the back of her gown and she knew they were moving somewhere they had not been yet, excitement and nervousness mingling deep within her.
“May I?” he murmured against her mouth.
“Yes,” she said, panting.
Then, because she had decided to be brave, she added softly, “And you as well.”
She felt him smile against her lips before he drew back enough to look at her, his eyes soft and dark.
The look he had given her remained fresh in her mind, even as he turned her around gently, working the buttons loose one by one, pressing a kiss to the nape of her neck as the fabric loosened and fell.
She shivered despite herself, heat pooling in her stomach, gradually dripping lower and lower.
“I thought of you,” he whispered, his lips tracing the curve of her shoulder. “Every hour of every one of those wretched days we were apart. It felt like torture, but it was also the only thing that sustained my sanity – or whatever I had left of it. I could not stop.”
“Nor could I,” she admitted, reaching back to find his hands. “There was hardly anything I wanted more than to be back here, with you – as much as it terrified me. I wanted you.”
He stilled at that, then, carefully, he turned her to face him again, studying her in the low light of the room with an expression that made her feel as though he was committing every bit of her to memory.
“I felt as though the house had gone silent,” he stated, his voice roughened.
“Not the way it was before – when the silence was simply emptiness. This was different. It was the kind of quiet that only comes when something that was alive has left. I tried to be strong for Reuben. I told myself I would manage. That I had managed before and I would manage again.”
He shook his head slowly, his expression darkening in a way that hurt her heart. “But I was not strong enough without you, Jane. I want you to know that. I never was.”
She reached up and pressed her hand to his jaw, feeling the tension beneath her palm.
“I felt lost,” she told him honestly. “I kept telling myself it was the right choice – the only choice.
That I was protecting myself. But there was nowhere I wanted to be.
Not my parents' house, not anywhere. There was nowhere in the world I wanted to be except here, with you and Reuben, and I could not admit it because I was so afraid. I do not want to be afraid anymore, Thomas.”
“Then don't be,” he told her simply. “I am here.”
He kissed her again, and this time there was less restraint in it.
His hands moved over her with the reverence of someone who had believed, for a week, that he would never be permitted to do this again.
She worked at his jacket, his cravat, the buttons of his shirt, and he helped her when her fingers fumbled.
He did not laugh at her mistake, but simply pressed his lips to her temple in a way that was more tender than any jest could have been.
They undressed each other slowly and without haste, stopping to look, to touch, to mark each discovery with the kind of attention that required no words.
Jane had thought she might feel afraid, standing before him without the armour of clothing or pretence, but she did not.
She felt only warm, and certain, and seen.
“I believe,” Thomas began, a glimmer of something lighter moving across his expression as he lifted her easily, carrying her toward the bed, “It is only fitting that the consummation of our marriage serves as the marker of our new beginning.”
Jane laughed in spite of herself. “You are ridiculous.”
“I am thorough,” he corrected, setting her down with great care. “There is a distinction. Besides, you love me, despite my silliness.
He laid her back against the pillows and knelt over her, pressing kisses to her collarbone, the curve of her shoulder, the soft inside of her wrist, as though he intended to map every part of her before the evening was through.
She felt her breath grow unsteady, felt the warmth beneath her skin begin to build into something urgent as she arched into his touch.
His hand moved lower, dipping between her legs, quick and almost as though he was testing the waters, drawing a gasp from her lips.
“Thomas –”
“I know, love,” he murmured soothingly, nuzzling along the line of her jaw. “It’s all right darling. I have you. You are all right.”
He was unhurried and deliberate, watching her face all the while his fingers explored her moist heat, coaxing the flames of desire to burn brighter for him.
Jane’s body responded eagerly and she squirmed and whined breathlessly, a slave to the sensations with no desire for freedom.
She could feel the tension rising in her, climbing toward its peak and she tried to ready herself for the release, tossing her head back in surrender.
Then he withdrew his hand entirely, and she made a sound of sharp indignation that surprised even herself.
“What – why –” her voice came out in uncertain gasps, and she tried to glare at him but she knew she looked less like a threat and more like a woman drunk on lust.
“Because,” he grinned, his voice low and entirely too composed, “I wanted to see you lose your bearings around me. Entirely. Not just a little.”
The flush that rose to her cheeks was fuelled by mortification and she wished she possessed enough presence of mind to reach out and smack him a little.
“That is unfair,” she managed with a pout.
“Probably,” he agreed, entirely unrepentant, and kissed the inside of her knee. “But I am afraid I am also at my limit. I need to be with you, Jane. Properly.”
Her cheeks burned hotter at the implication of his words and she held her arms out to him.
“Well, what are you waiting for?”
He smirked down at her, leaning forward to steal a kiss from her lips as he spread her legs open and situated himself between them, a hand coming up to grip his member.
He aligned it with her entrance, and it was all she could do not to squirm when the tip touched the opening of her folds.
Her eyes darted up to his and he stared down at her darkly, all the teasing air gone from him, leaving behind unbridled desire.
“Are you ready for me, my love?”
Jane nodded and that was all the confirmation he needed. Thomas pressed into her and she felt the breath leave her body in a long, quiet exhale, a sharp twinge of pain throbbing where their bodies met. He paused, holding himself still, watching her carefully in concern.
“Are you all right?” he asked gently.
“Yes,” she stated breathlessly. “More than.”
It took a moment to regain her bearings and once she did, she looked up at him and nodded once their eyes met, and he took her silent prompt as the urge that it was.
He began slowly, gently, with the careful attentiveness that prioritized her comfort.
Jane allowed herself to revel in all the feelings that surrounded them – the warmth of him, the quiet closeness, the way he murmured her name like a prayer, reverent and in awe.
But it was not quite enough, and she knew it, and she did not want to be delicate about it.
“Thomas,” she called, inhaling as he stopped suddenly. “I need – you can be rougher. I won't break, darling.”
He paused, his expression uncertain. “I do not want to hurt you.”
“You won't,” she smiled a little, meeting his eyes again steadily. “I know you won't. This... isn’t enough. I want you to feel good as well.”