Chapter 14
Chapter
Fourteen
The silence that followed settled heavily between them, charged with everything she had said and everything she had not, and Julien held her gaze not out of challenge, but because he could not seem to look away, even as he felt the full weight of what she had placed in his hands.
He understood precisely what she asked of him, and perhaps more dangerously, he understood what it would cost him to refuse, and though the struggle did not show in any overt movement, it was there all the same, contained in the tension he held rigidly in place and in the careful stillness he imposed upon himself as though motion alone might undo what restraint remained.
“You do not know what you’re asking, Caroline, not fully,” he said, his voice quieter now, though no less controlled, his gaze fixed on hers as though he might force her to reconsider.
“I do not know,” she replied, meeting his gaze without wavering. “That is why I am here. I want you to show me.”
He exhaled slowly, the sound unsteady despite his effort to control it.
“You place a great deal of faith in me,” he said at last. “More than you ought.”
“I know precisely whose hands I place it in,” she returned. “And I cannot think of anyone whom I could ever trust more.”
My god, she’s remarkable, he thought. With those simple words, she’d given him what he’d spent six long years dreaming of.
His voice deepened with emotion, he made a vow to her, “Then I shall endeavor to deserve it... And in light of that, there is something we have to discuss first. Business before pleasure.”
“Business?” She asked. “That is not what I expected when I came here.”
A smile curved his lips then. “No, I suppose it isn’t.
But this—what’s happening between us now— is something, Caroline, that once it begins in truth…
it will change everything,” he said, his voice steady, though the strain beneath it had not lessened.
“While I would never browbeat you to the altar, you must know that there is only one outcome for this particular path. The risk of discovery, even in the countryside, is not entirely eliminated. Servants talk. They whisper and gossip to one another and to their families. Should these events become known—”
“I would be ruined,” she said ruefully. “More so than I already I am, I suppose.”
Shaking his head, Julien corrected her. “You will never be ruined. Compromised, I suppose. Scandalous to be sure. But you are too perfect to ever be ruined. And if we do this, regardless of discover or not, you will become my wife.”
“I had no expectation of you, Julien. I know that you have feelings for me. Just as I know that I have feelings for you… but I put no conditions on this. I’m here solely of my own free will.
Because when you kissed me the other night, it was like I had been awakened.
That is why I came. Because you make me feel alive in a way I didn’t know was possible…
I slumbered in a sort of purgatory with William or six years thinking it was love only to discover it was anything but. ”
“I know what six years of purgatory feels like. Watching you with him for all this time… never understanding how truly fortunate he was. You may have no expectations of me, Caroline, but you should know this… I let you slip through my fingers and regretted every single day. I will not do that again.”
“I have no intention of going anywhere… I am exactly where I have longed to be.”
He moved then, stepping closer until there was no space left between them.
The silk of her wrapper brushed against him with the slightest movement, and he felt it, aware of the warmth of her, of the way her breath shifted, of the subtle rise of gooseflesh along her skin that betrayed just how much she felt the same.
His hand lifted to her face once more, steady and deliberate, curving along her jaw as he studied her, not out of hesitation, but because he wanted to remember this moment in its entirety.
In response, she leaned into him certain and without hesitation— it struck him forcefully.
There was no stepping back, no attempt to maintain distance.
The warmth of her settled into him, the brush of silk heightened every sensation.
His hand shifted to her face once more, steady and deliberate, but not cautious.
Curving his fingers along her jaw, he tested the silken texture of her skin beneath his fingertips as he studied her for a moment.
Not out of any need for hesitation or doubt about the course of action they'd just undertaken, but because he wished to commit every detail to memory.
Then he bent his head towards, erasing the last bit of distance between them as his mouth closed over hers.
And she matched him, answering his kiss with an urgency that nearly shattered his own control.
He did not allow the kiss to break as he deepened it, shifting with her in his arms, guiding her step by step across the room until he reached the chair near the window, open to a light breeze.
Lowering himself into it, he drew her down onto his lap without the contact between them being interrupted.
He pulled her more firmly against them, his arms coming around her to hold her closer still.
The kiss changed as he adjusted it, slower for a moment, deeper the next.
It was calculated on his part, to keep her guessing, to keep her wondering what might come next.
Curiosity had brought her there, after all.
It, coupled with desire, would keep her there.
Moving with intention rather than haste, his hand moved along her arm, tracing the line of it through the silk, then mapping the curve of her shoulder, the supple line of her back.
And with every touch he could feel the subtle tension beneath her skin.
Deepening the kiss further, he touched the seam of her lips with the tip of his tongue and she let out a soft gasp.
But that gasp was an opportunity not to be squandered.
Passing in, his tongue moved against hers in a low and languorous dance.
He kissed her deeply, carnally… the movements mimicking those of the ultimate act of intimacy.
And when she was mindless with it, her body shuddering against him lightly as she clung to him, he pulled his lips from hers and allowed them to wander.
Tracing the curve of her jaw, the delicate column of her neck.
His hand drifted to the tie of her wrapper, tugging the silk until the knot gave way and it parted to reveal the simple linen nightrail beneath.
Thin to the point of sheerness, edged in delicate lace—the functionality of the garment did not hinder its appeal, especially as it skimmed over the lushness of her form.
When he reached for the single ribbon holding the neckline of the gown closed, she covered her hand with his, halting his movement.
Julien looked at her. “I will not do anything you do not wish for me to… I can show you pleasure, Caroline, while still allowing you to leave this room with your virtue intact.”
In answer, she slipped her fingers past his and freed the small silken tie herself.
The fine lawn parted, and through the gaping fabric he could see the lush curves of her breasts.
Presented with such bounty, he was helpless to resist. Dipping his head, he nuzzled the space there, just above her décolletage.
Peppering that delicate skin with kisses, he quickly parted the fabric further, revealing the generous mounds of her breasts with their rose tipped peaks.
And when his tongue swirled gently over one of those, Caroline shuddered delicately as her fingers speared into his hair, holding him closer. Almost in plea for him to continue.
Closing his lips more firmly over that turgid bud, he drew it into his mouth laving it gently with his tongue before increasing the pressure ever so slightly.
“Julien!” His name escaped her lips with a kind of desperation that he understood only too well. For that same desperation had claimed him also.
Continuing his ministrations, he did not stop until she was straining against him, pressing herself against his mouth as she clung to him fiercely.
Shuddering, his name carried past her lips on a chorus of soft cries, he gloried in every sound.
Every revelation of her desire. And when his hand slid beneath the hem of her nightrail, to coast along the satiny skin of her thighs, she made no move to halt him.
In fact the exact opposite was true. Whether driven by instinct, desire or curiosity, Caroline met his touch eagerly, her thighs parting as his hand slipped between them.
And when he touched her intimately, feeling the slick heat of her, it was both pleasure and torment.
The need to sink into her, to feel the warmth of her surrounding him, was almost too much.
But that was not what tonight was about.
Tonight, he reminded himself, was about answering at least some of her questions, about showing her what pleasures awaited them once she was fully his.
Because whoever much he desire her, he would not take her innocence without first giving her his name.
But that didn’t mean he could not ease the ache of desire he’d built within her.
Deliberately, with patience and practiced ease, he stroked the tender bud nestled between the soft folds. With each pass, his fingers stroking gently over the most sensitive part of her until he felt her tighten, every muscle in her body tensing .
“Let go, Caroline.”
“I do not know how,” she whispered brokenly.
“Hide nothing from me,” he urged her. “Scream, cry, moan, tremble… shudder with the force of your pleasure. Share the glory of it with me.”
Increasing the pressure and tempo of his strokes, he let the exact moment when her release claimed her, the small pearl-like bud pulsing beneath his fingertips as she buried her face against his neck, her cries drifting scorchingly over his skin.
And when the last shudder subsided, when her body was limp against him, he continued to hold her.
He continued to touch her, but with touches designed to soothe, to ease her back from that soaring height.
And all the while, he ached for her. But it was so very different from every other time in his life when the need for her, the desire for her, had left him a state of arousal without ease.
Because now there was hope. There was the anticipation that his desires would finally, at long last, be assuaged.
And for that, he could cling to patience for a bit longer while savoring the gift she’d given him…
of trusting him. Of offering herself up to him with such sweetness that he had no hope of resisting, even had he wished to.
When she ceased trembling, he kissed her gently.
All the while carefully righting her clothing.
Tugging her nightrail down to hide the length o her legs.
Doing up the delicate ribbon tie and hiding the lush curves of her breasts from his view.
The wrapper came next. And then was as mostly covered as she had been when first she came to him.
“If I had the strength to resist my own inclinations, I would do that again,” he told her.
“Again and again. But I do not trust myself any longer. And I will not go beyond this until we are wed… until it is my right to do so. Much as it pains me, you must go. You must go while I have the ability to let you.”