Chapter 4 #2
He moved to stand before her and dared to slip his index finger under her chin, tipping her head up gently so that he could look into her eyes. “Nothing about that request is shameful. Do you not understand how much I wanted the same that night?”
“And now? Tonight?” She lifted a hand to the front of his waistcoat, running her fingernail along the row of buttons.
“Nothing has changed,” he whispered.
Her face softened into a breath-stealing smile.
“Though there is something I want to say to you.” Atlas lifted a hand to stroke his fingers along her cheek, then slide along the line of her neck. “I was on my way to find you when you knocked on my door.”
Philippa’s brow furrowed. “How would you have found me?”
Atlas bit his lip. “I followed you for a bit when you left the Royal Pavilion.” He tried for a chagrined look, but she didn’t stop smiling.
“You’ve always been overprotective.”
“Two sisters. What can I say?”
At that, she laughed aloud. “Douglas has three and yet…”
Atlas wrapped his hand down her arm, and her smile turned to something more heated. “No more talk of Douglas. At least not until I confess what I was seeking you out to say.”
She nodded, and Atlas reached down to clasp her hand. He lifted it up to place a kiss against her knuckles.
“I was a fool not to tell you that night, Pip.” His voice emerged rough, husky with desire, raw with emotion. “But I hope you felt it then, and I certainly want you to feel it now. I love you, Philippa.”
For a moment, she stiffened. Her eyes flicked wide, and she looked as if she was holding her breath. He couldn’t have misread everything between them? Or had he?
“You…love me?” she finally whispered.
Atlas smiled. “Yes. Did you never suspect?”
“I hoped, but then…”
“I know. I was an unmitigated arse. I hope you’ll forgive me.”
She lifted her arms and twined them around his neck, drawing so close, their bodies seamed together. “I have already forgiven you, Atlas.”
He wrapped her in his arms and bent to brush his lips against hers. Sparks lit across his skin; a trickle of anticipation slid down his spine. He’d dreamed of this, but the taste of her was sweeter than any dream.
And neither of them could go slowly. Just as it had been that night, once his lips touched hers, a hunger seemed to consume them both. She slid her fingers into his hair. He pulled her in tighter, running his hands along her back, then up to cup her nape.
She opened to him and he licked into her mouth, kissing her deeply as he tugged at the pins in her hair. He moaned as the soft strands tumbled over his hand and slid beneath his fingers.
He turned them and walked backwards until the bed was at the back of his knees.
“You’re certain?” he whispered against her cheek.
“Yes, Atlas. Please.”
The please threatened to melt all his self-control, but he wanted nothing as much as he wanted to take this slow for her sake.
He slipped the first button on her gown. They marched in a line down her back, but by some blessing, there weren’t many of them. She seemed to understand and reached up to pull the pins from her hair.
Once her gown was unbuttoned, she freed the hooks at her waist and shimmied out of it.
Atlas stifled a groan at the sight of her in her pale pink corset and drawers.
She watched him, beautiful green eyes fixed on him as she undid the fastenings of her corset. He shed his waistcoat and shirt. She drank him in, her eyes tracing over his chest, all the way down to the line of hair that led below his waistband.
Then, eyes fixed on his again, she reached down to untie the lace of her drawers.
When the corset fell away, the perfect swell of her breasts made his mouth water, and he couldn’t resist drawing a finger along each nipple.
They were pebbled and flushed as they pushed against the soft cotton fabric of her chemise
Philippa pulled up the hem of her chemise, and Atlas helped her lift the gauzy garment over her head. Then he helped slide her drawers down over her hips.
“You’re so beautiful, love,” he whispered as got down on his haunches, tracing his fingertips along her hip and then down her legs to unlace each of her boots and pull them from her feet. Then he carefully rolled down each stocking, bending to kiss her skin along the way.
She’d sunk her fingers into his hair and braced another hand on his shoulder, kneading his muscles and letting out breathy little gasps each time he kissed her.
When she was standing bare before him, he knew that he was the luckiest man alive. Touching her felt like a privilege he wasn’t certain he deserved, and the look of desire in her eyes felt like a gift.
Slowly, he trailed his hand up her leg, tracing along her calf, her knee, and then up along her inner thigh until he slipped his finger through her damp curls.
“Atlas,” she hissed.
He stilled and looked up, needing to know she wanted him to continue.
Her pupils had widened, darkened, and she whispered, “Please don’t stop.”
Atlas grinned up at her and stood.
She looked momentarily confused, but then seemed to understand as he guided her to settle on top of the bed. At first she went to lie atop it, but he stopped her and urged her to perch on the edge. Then he bent again, pushing his shoulders in between her spread thighs.
“Lay back, sweetheart,” he told her, whispering against the soft skin of her inner thigh.
She did as he bid and then spread her legs a bit wider. He smiled and bent closer, encircling her thighs in his hands and holding her steady as he lapped at her cleft.
Philippa gasped loudly, reaching down to drag her fingers through his hair as her body undulated against his tongue. He couldn’t get enough of the taste of her. Could happily die in her warmth.
“Oh, Atlas,” she keened.
He slipped a finger inside of her wet heat, then another, even as he continued to lap at her most sensitive bud. When her body tensed, he didn’t stop his ministrations until she’d bucked and pulled at his hair as she found her release.
Standing, he toed off his boots and worked the fastening of his pants, shedding both, and then he gently scooped her legs into his arms and settled her fully on the bed. She smiled up at him, her eyes dazed, her expression both affectionate and fiery.
“That was…extraordinary,” she said, her voice husky.
“I’m very pleased you liked it,” Atlas chuckled as he climbed onto the bed and settled his body between her thighs. Then his smile deepened when she immediately wrapped her arms around his shoulders to pull him closer.
For a moment, he got caught up in looking at her, her flushed skin, her glittering eyes, kiss-plumped lips. He wanted to ask her then and there to be his wife, to be with him until the end of their days.
But before he could, she reached a finger up and traced it along his lower lip.
“You do know, don’t you?” she asked quietly.
“Know what?” he said as he bent down and nuzzled his lips against her cheek.
“That I love you.”
The words rang in his mind and his heart felt warm, full of a syrupy sort of pleasure he’d never known before.
He raised his head and looked down at her. “Then you’ll be mine, Pip?”
Her eyes welled with tears, and she nodded. “Yes, if you mean it.”
“Oh, love.” Atlas smiled. “Let me show you how much I mean it.”
He slid into her slowly, not wishing to cause any pain. But Philippa only let out a lovely mewling moan and then bucked her hips gently against his as if to urge him on.
The love between them was as potent as the desire, and it seemed neither of them were interested in taking things slowly.
As he joined their bodies again and again, she arched up to kiss him.
She swept her tongue inside his mouth to taste him deeply, then nipped at his lip.
The rhythm he’d built stuttered into thrusts that made her cry out as he kissed her neck, biting gently at her warm, silken skin.
“Atlas, please…” she begged, nails digging into his arm as her body tensed and then quivered beneath him.
His own release chased hers, and then he rested beside her, catching his breath as he pulled her into his arms.
For a long while, they simply laid contentedly together. He stroked his fingers through her hair; she drew circles on his chest that made him smile.
“The answer is still yes, isn’t it?” he finally asked because beyond the bliss he’d found in her arms, a little sliver of uncertainty still wound its way into his mind.
“What was the question again?” she asked in a teasing tone.
Atlas barked out a laugh. “Will you, Miss Philippa Morgan, be my wife?”
“Hmm,” she hummed thoughtfully and shifted to perch on his chest, arms crossed in front of her. “What about the lady Lizzie told me you planned to marry?”
“Those plans have changed.”
“What about Douglas throwing a fit because I won’t—”
Atlas couldn’t resist anymore and bent up to take her lips. The kiss turned immediately hungry and when he finally laid back, his body was ready to love her again.
“Nothing anyone says will alter my determination to make you my viscountess, Pip.” He swallowed hard. “I should have said as much that night in the garden.”
Her eyes flashed with concern and sweetness as she traced her fingers along his jaw.
“Let us not begin our life together with regrets.”
Atlas turned his head to kiss her palm.
“All that matters is that you’ve asked,” she said merrily, “and I’ve said yes, and we’ll find a way to face everything else together.”
“We will,” he told her, his heart filled with love and certainty. “Always.”