Chapter 23 #2
“I want to give you everything,” she said fervently. “I love you more than life itself, but can you…can you truly forgive me?”
“It is done.” He meant it. “Water under the bridge.”
“What about the blackmailer—”
“I will deal with him.”
“But how—”
“Do you trust me?”
Slowly, she nodded.
“Then allow me to take care of this for you.”
She hesitated. “You must let me help. I brought this peril upon us, and I won’t have you facing it alone. Please don’t make the same mistake I did.”
“Mistake is too mild a word for your recklessness.” Reminded of it, he added sternly, “You will not put yourself at risk again. For any reason and under any circumstance. Do I make myself clear?”
“I won’t if you won’t. Let us work together and keep each other safe. Let us be the partners we are meant to be.”
“Now she wants to be partners.” He slanted his gaze toward the ceiling.
“James.” Her expression was pleading.
“How can I refuse you?” He rubbed her bottom lip. “I have a plan, but it can wait until after.”
“After what?”
He pulled her closer. “After I make love to my wife.”
Even as he bent his head, she tilted hers, their lips meeting in a searing kiss.
Evie felt delirious—with relief, joy, and desire. She’d told James the horrible truth, and he hadn’t rejected her. Somehow, he didn’t despise her…didn’t blame her for what she’d done.
He loves me. My husband loves me.
His mouth was warm and possessive, his taste male and delicious.
And he was all hers…finally. As she was his, heart, body, and soul.
The recognition made her wild with passion.
She fought to deepen the kiss, tangling her tongue with his, drawing him inside her while he groaned.
She managed to loosen his cravat, then flung it aside to fumble with the buttons of his shirt.
“Devil and damn.” James’s chuckle was husky. “Feeling impatient, are you, wife?”
“I want you, darling. I can hardly stand it.”
Knowing that he had accepted the worst of her, she no longer needed to hide anything. The freedom was exhilarating. Happiness bubbled like the finest champagne, making her giddy.
Wonder glinted in his gaze. “How did I get so bloody lucky?”
“I am the lucky one. I do adore you. But could you hurry and get out of these clothes?”
“Ladies first.”
He showed his gallantry by disposing of her garments in short order.
The man could have been a lady’s maid, she decided, with his long, clever fingers and unerring efficiency.
Not even Pauline could have undressed her so quickly…
and certainly would not have offered the same heated distraction.
His mouth roved over her lips, her neck, her ears as he undid her layer by layer.
Soon she stood before him, trembling and exposed, in nothing but her garters and white silk stockings.
“Look at you. You are so beautiful, Evie—you take my breath away.”
The hungry, possessive gaze he raked over her made her feel beautiful. Her nipples budded and her thighs quivered as dew slickened her intimate cove. The sliver of air between them crackled with heat.
“I would rather look at you,” she said breathlessly.
He cocked a brow, then disrobed with casual proficiency while she watched.
His discipline and love of sporting was evident in his honed physique.
His arms and chest rippled as he stripped off his shirt and removed his shoes.
When he shoved down his trousers, her lungs squeezed.
Perhaps he was right that Apollo wasn’t the most apt comparison.
For while he shared the graceful god’s girdle of muscle at the hips, the shaft that hung between was far less civilized.
He was massively aroused, his cock a fleshy truncheon that looked harder than marble.
Veins snaked along the impressive length, all the way to the dripping tip.
His equipment was balanced by the pendulous weight of his stones and the neat, curling nest at his groin.
When he stood before her in all his virile glory, his shoulders gleaming and erect member swaying between his carved thighs, liquid desire flowed in her veins.
“You are so splendid,” she said reverently.
When he reached for her, she evaded his hands, and his brows snapped together in surprise.
“No,” she told him. “Let me, my darling.”
A half-smile touched his lips, and he let her do as she wished.
She’d touched him countless times, but the act felt different tonight.
There was nothing holding her back, nothing terrifying about her desire for her husband.
Tonight, her love wouldn’t harm but heal, and she gave in to the pleasure of worshipping what was hers.
She ran her hands over his powerful shoulders and down his taut back.
When she scraped her nails lightly, his sharp breath made her smile.
She caressed his chest, enjoying the sensual scratch of his wiry hair, the way his eyelids drooped when she rubbed her thumbs over his nipples.
She took her exploration lower, her fingertips bumping over his ridged abdomen and the defined vee of his hips.
When she curled her fingers around his rearing shaft, a feral sound scraped from his throat.
“Enough playing, Evie,” he growled. “I want to pleasure you.”
“No.”
“What do you mean, no?”
If she weren’t so aroused, she might have laughed at his baffled expression.
“It is my turn. My turn to pleasure you.”
She surrendered to impulse, to the yearning thumping in her heart, and sank to her knees.
“Evie, are you certain you want to…by Jove.”
Grasping his jutting shaft, she kissed the tip of his cock.
While she’d touched him aplenty, she’d never quite worked up the courage to do this.
He’d put his mouth on her, but being a gentleman, he had never asked for reciprocity, and she’d never initiated it.
Out of fear, she realized. She’d been afraid of exposing her urges—of enjoying carnal pleasures.
Wilmington had managed to warp her thinking, making her ashamed of her honest desires.
The primal pleasure on her husband’s face made her wish she hadn’t held back. With him, there was no room for shame, only loving discovery. Easing back the velvety skin, she revealed the slit in his bulging dome and the pearly bead clinging to it. Going with her instincts, she licked it off.
“What a good wife you are, sweetheart.”
The pride and lust gleaming in his eyes filled her with heady joy.
She wanted to be his acolyte, to worship him.
She wanted to give back to her husband, whose ability to love and forgive was surely divine.
With him, she felt the shackles of the past fall free—and she was herself.
Weightless and wanton, eager to please the man she loved.
As if he gleaned her thoughts, he tipped her chin up, rubbing his thumb over her lips.
“Would you like a lesson on sucking cock, my dear?”
Gracious earth.
Her pussy quivered. “Yes, please.”
He took her hands, placing them on his thighs. “Keep them there.”
When he fisted his cock and brought the thick tip to her lips, she parted them eagerly.
“Wider, darling. I want to get all the way inside.” He tangled his other hand in her hair, guiding her. “Ah—yes. Just so.”
The feel of him sliding in, his meaty weight upon her tongue, overwhelmed her senses.
She gazed up, saw his smoldering approval, and felt his fingers clench in her hair as he pushed in.
Every inch she managed to take felt like an accomplishment, his guttural praise making her glow with pride.
In the act of giving, she felt her own divinity—the power of the love she shared with her husband.
Not perfect, easy, or comfortable…but unshakeable.
Like the hold he had on her hair as he thrust into her kiss, groaning her name.
The fact that she could unravel his restraint thrilled her and emboldened her to try a bit of suction.
“Devil and damn,” he gritted out.
The quivering tension in his thighs told her he must be close. Sure enough, he began to pull away. She responded by sliding her hands to his hard backside, urging him deeper.
“Evie, I cannot hold back—”
Locking her gaze with his, she dug her fingers into his steely buttocks to communicate what she wanted. What he had once demanded from her. Spend in my mouth. Let me taste your pleasure. Understanding blazed in his eyes, and with a savage sound, he shoved deeper.
“You want it, darling? Here it is,” he growled.
It was only then that she realized he’d been holding back. Now he crammed himself in, and she moaned around his girth. When he nudged her throat, she choked a little, and he went as taut as a bowstring.
“Oh, my sweet Evie.” His gaze was fever-hot. “Here it comes…”
His bliss flooded her mouth, the sensation startling in its intensity.
He shuddered as he shot streams of heat down her throat, and still there was more, spilling over her lips.
When she sputtered, he pulled out with a groan, fisting his cock and pumping out the rest of his release while she watched, dazed by his magnificence.
Tenderly, he pulled her to her feet and kissed her.
The realization of what he was tasting sparked a naughty tingle between her thighs. When she squirmed, he broke the kiss.
“Not embarrassed are you, love?” he murmured.
The old Evie would have taken refuge in shyness.
“No.” She squirmed again. “Not exactly.”
Surprise flared in his eyes, and his smile was slow and appreciative.
“Good. Then you won’t be embarrassed by the jewelry I gave you either.”
Puzzled, she canted her head. “Why would I be embarrassed by the diamond necklace?”
“I wasn’t referring to the diamonds, my sweet, but the pearls.”
When he drew his finger over her décolletage, she looked down…and her eyes rounded at the line of pearly droplets dotting her skin.
Her cheeks burned as his meaning became clear. “James, that is wicked.”
“I told you I was no prissy god.” His wolfish grin sent tingles up her spine. “And if you think that was wicked, wait until you see what is next.”
Sweeping her into his arms, he carried her to the bed.