Chapter Thirteen #2
It took very little time to feel drowsy and her mind a bit muzzy from the fire’s warmth and the tea laced with brandy and then whiskey.
To stave off sleepiness, she’d left the sofa, and of course he followed.
Perhaps prowled after her was a more apt word.
Tingles of anticipation danced through her lower belly.
When Broderick came close and kissed her again, Anne welcomed the intimacy, for he was quite handsome with his jacket off and his cravat loosened.
She sighed from the romance of it all, and as her husband kissed her with the intent to steal her every inhalation, Anne clung to him, clutched at his shoulders, layered herself to him as if she could somehow become closer to him.
Perhaps she should remove her clothing merely to feel her skin against his, but the effort seemed enormous just now and she didn’t wish to interrupt the embrace.
In that moment, she was drowning in him, in all that he was, both good and bad. It didn’t matter that he’d married her out of scandal or that the future between them was uncertain. Neither did it matter that he was dark and sometimes frightening with what he’d done in his past.
Or what he might continue to do, for he hadn’t said he’d retired from that life.
In this moment, he was enough. This was enough, and being here, returning his kisses, exchanging caresses while he teased her body to the point of madness was beyond her every hope.
Easily, she would be driven insane, and still she wanted more as she frantically drank from his lips while he kept her trapped between his hard chest and the wall at her back.
In that realization, there was nothing to fear from slowly losing her mind in the face of this passion, this desire, this overwhelming sensation that she was right where she needed to be. That she had been waiting for this man all her life.
Was it simply that easy?
After wrenching up the tails of his lawn shirt, she let her fingertips dance over the wide expanse of his chest, furrowed them through the dark hair decorating his pectoral area, as she breathed in the scent of him, a potent mix of evergreens, winter air, and peppermint, she shivered as throbs of need rocked her core.
Her husband made her body burn and fired her imagination; if he wanted, he could command anything from her with the veriest touch or the rare grin.
Though he’d been doing much more of that in the last day or two.
And, oh, she wanted him, needed him to soothe her fears and calm her soul.
When she’d talked about that one portion of her past, she’d felt so much better, and it was addictive.
A sound left her throat that was part moan and part stifled sob, for she didn’t know what the future held with him. Neither of them had opened up enough to share their innermost feelings.
“Don’t make a habit of thinking, Anne. It will make a mockery of your brain,” Broderick whispered against her lips while he manipulated her sensitive nipples with his thumbs.
“Don’t. Not now. Don’t sully what we’re sharing in this moment by worrying about what might lay ahead.
” Emotions she couldn’t identify graveled his voice, but there was no doubt about the note of authority in the tone.
A shiver of anticipation went down her spine. She pressed a line of nipping kisses beneath his jaw. “I’m trying.”
“I may have done many horrible things, and I’ll probably continue to make questionable choices, but I promise that I won’t disappoint you and I will protect you to the best of my ability.”
Anne searched his eyes, shining with honesty in the soft candlelight. “I believe you, but eventually you’ll need to tell me more about your past.”
“I will; I’m nearly ready.” He slipped a hand to the small of her back, slid it down to squeeze a buttock. Awareness surged through her blood.
“Good.” She slipped her arms around his shoulders, reveled in the solid feel of him, furrowed her fingers into the soft hair at his nape. Far too many confusing emotions set her at sixes and sevens, so she kept her own counsel. “It’s a pity you’re not naked.”
“It always seems we’re coming together at inopportune times when we are not assured of total privacy.
” Broderick cupped her cheeks, held her head between his palms and then claimed her lips in a kiss so tender it brought tears to her eyes and put hope in her heart for things she’d never dared to dream, like romance and love and perhaps a family because far too long she considered them naught but stories fit for fairytales.
“Then we shall need to make certain to do this more often.” Anne lifted onto her toes to better return his embrace.
“Mmm, I rather enjoy being propositioned by my wife.” With a growl, Broderick once more crushed her in his arms, moved over her mouth as if he wished to memorize every contour and detail of her lips.
When he eased the tip of his tongue along their seam, she opened for him, invited him in, and moaned when the kiss deepened, for he was quite skilled in carnal endeavors.
One of his hands traced her spine, and as he squeezed her arse, brought her closer to his body, the bulge of his arousal bumped against her hip through the layers of clothing.
“Cheeky.” With a sigh, Anne closed her mind to all the thoughts and surrendered, let herself fall and knew he would catch her no matter what was waiting for her on the path.
“You are the most powerful drug.” He dragged his lips beneath her jaw, along the column of her throat, and as he kissed and licked a path around her bodice, she arched her back, giving him a clear invitation.
“Show me so that I may be carried away as well.” She couldn’t remember how to form more complicated words, for every touch, each kiss, sent clouds into her brain and reduced her knees to the strength of cooked porridge.
“Gladly.” Broderick slid his hands up her back. He made quick work of relieving her of every stitch of clothing she wore. When the garments littered the floor, he flashed a grin. “At least one of us is naked, and you are ravishing with naught on but the ruby necklace and earbobs.”
“And my ring.” Her voice was decidedly breathless, for it was still early on in their union and this was a bit awkward.
“Give me one second.” Never had she seen a man undress with such haste before, but there was something endearing and amusing about how he did it and nearly took a tumble when one of his feet was stuck in his breeches.
Finally, when he was truly nude, he took her back into his arms and palmed her breasts, kneaded them until she shivered, and then with a maddening chuckle, he worried the nipples into tightened peaks.
“Dear God, you are a feast for a starving man.”
She blew out a breath. “Such gammon.”
“I would kill many men merely to bed you for one night.”
A chill went through her blood. “Do you still kill men for money?”
“That depends on the job and the day. Please don’t ruin this moment by asking more questions.” He dipped his head, took a nipple between his lips, went so far as to lightly bite that bud.
“All right, but…” Wild sensation streaked through her body.
His words, the brush of his fingers, the gleam in his eyes all worked at her undoing.
Perhaps it didn’t matter how he made a living.
Did it? She lifted a hand, and with her fingers at his nape guided his mouth to one of the aching buds.
“How do you make me forget everything except you the second you touch me?”
“I am your husband; it is what any man in this position should do.” His voice slightly faltered. “Please tell me I’ll be enough for you; that I’ll be all you need.” He shifted attention to the neglected nipple, and a shuddering moan escaped her.
“In this moment, you are.” A tremble of need moved up her spine when he licked his way back up her torso.
“Mmm, what if I want all your moments?” Broderick slid his fingers into her upswept hair, pulled on the tresses with enough pressure that quick tears sprang into her eyes.
When their gazes connected as her head went back, his dark eyes bored into hers.
“Tell me you will always want me, Anne, no matter what I’ve done or what I may still do if I have orders.
” An odd note of vulnerability went through his voice.
“Oh…” Unexpectedly, she lost a piece of her heart to him. “I truly want to, but…” Could she let herself fall in love with a man who made a career of hunting other men down and killing them, all because of King and country?
“You think me a murderer.” It wasn’t a question.
“I don’t know you well enough to make that judgment.” A ball of emotion clogged her throat.
“Just trust me? Please?” When she nodded, he crushed his lips to hers, and so much feeling lay behind the kiss that need and something she couldn’t identify shivered down her spine. And he didn’t stop kissing her until her knees wobbled and she clung to his shoulders.
“Broderick…” She curled a hand about his nape.
“I refuse to choose between you and how I make my living; an impossible choice, and right now, I would do anything for you.”
Except stop being a contracted killer.
“I want you, Anne.” As his hardened length twitched against her hip, she stifled a sigh.
For how long? But all she could say was, “Take everything I’m offering.”
“Fuck, the look in your eyes alone will have me begging.” He put a hand beneath one of her thighs and encouraged her leg upward. She hooked it about his hip, anchoring her heel to his backside. “No matter what happens, you’re mine, and always will be.”
“I know.” It was both exciting yet confusing.
Another shiver went down her spine, for her body was completely open to him, and the tip of his member glanced along her sensitive flesh.
Being trapped between the wall and his chest fired her imagination until all she wanted was to be locked away with him for a week until they could work things out between them.