Chapter Seventeen
JONATHAN CLOSED HIS eyes, then opened them to look at her again. “I fear you won’t be happy with that decision tomorrow, Jane.” There was regret in his voice.
She wasn’t giving up. She knew now what she wanted. “You’re wrong.”
His answer sounded calm and reassuring. “There will be many chances when we are married for us to share what you feel now, Jane.” He tightened their linked fingers and drew her from the room. “Come, let me escort you to your door.”
Jane’s stomach hollowed, disappointed and embarrassed by Jonathan’s rebuttal.
In a haze, she allowed herself to be led up the wide staircase to the upper floor.
Her free hand trailed along the sinuous polished timber handrail.
She felt like a naughty schoolgirl being sent to bed early for bad behavior.
“No, I won’t be passively led to my door like a child!” She tugged at his hand in an attempt to free it.
He stopped on the staircase but didn’t release her hand. He gazed down at her with a questioning expression. He must have read her truculent mood, because he took two steps toward her and hefted her over his shoulder, stifling her resistance.
“Ooomph!” She pummeled his back.
Jonathan ignored her outrage while he ascended the remaining stairs and strode down the corridor toward her bedchamber.
He halted abruptly outside the door and set her on her feet.
“Good night, Jane. Sleep well.” He spoke with perfect composure and lifted her hand to kiss it and take the sting out of his actions.
Jane’s ire evaporated. She gripped his fingers while her other hand slid up his chest to clasp the back of his head steady while she hungrily kissed his mouth. He groaned.
“Don’t leave,” she said.
“I must.”
“Don’t.” Jane recognized the passion that had been building in her all week, fed by new insights into his soul, sharpened by his thoughtful Christmas gift, and capped by her newfound love.
It was a potent aphrodisiac. She decided then and there to follow its whispered call. She wanted to show him her love.
She felt for the bedroom door handle and opened it. The door swung inward and they swayed inside together, still in each other’s arms.
“I must go, Jane.” Jonathan persisted with his gentlemanly behavior. His actions negated his words.
“You must stay,” she countered. She wanted to win this argument. She fumbled with the buttons of his coat, finally undoing them, then his waistcoat. She slid her fingers beneath, skimming her hands over his soft linen shirt to caress the muscled body within.
Halting his kisses, he asked, “No regrets, Jane?”
She opened her eyes and gazed unfocusedly at him. “This is the right decision.”
Still he persisted. “It’s not one that you can go back on. Once your innocence is lost, it’s gone forever.”
She rose on tiptoe to kiss his mouth. “I want to give you my innocence,” she said.
His eyes searched hers. “You must be sure.” His cheeks were slashed with a flush of color.
She was so sure. “I am.”
Finally, he must have accepted her decision. He lifted her in his arms and strode to her canopied bed, placing her on the edge and kneeling to remove her shoes and garters.
She tugged at his cravat, destroying his valet’s skilled creation. With pure glee, she watched the linen flutter to the floor. She gave him her full attention as he slipped off her stockings one at a time, kissing each foot as it was revealed before lowering it to the carpeted floor.
Kissing her lips, he drew her to her feet, then plunged his hands through her soft hair, scattering pins in all directions. Her careful arrangement collapsed down her back in a cascade of heavy hair.
He undid the ties at the back of her neck, then peeled her winter evening gown slowly downward.
The dress joined her shawl already on the floor at her feet.
She felt the cool air of the room on her bare skin.
Turning her, he tugged at the ties of her petticoat and stays before pulling the laces free with a graze of sound.
One after another, the garments fell to the ground.
He gently pushed the shift off her shoulders, sliding her hair to one side to kiss her neck, which she tilted for his touch.
His hands covered her breasts, and a rush of desire ran through her body. She shivered in anticipation.
He guided her under the covers into the warmth of the bed.
The mattress sank under his weight as he sat to pull off his shoes and stockings.
She watched him strip off his coat and waistcoat in one movement before jerking his linen shirt over his head.
Only his breeches remained. He quickly disposed of them and his drawers, revealing his erection.
Jane’s cheeks flamed—with embarrassment, as she knew they should?
No, she had to be honest with herself—with raw desire.
She held out her arms in welcome. He slid, warm and naked, into her bed and into her arms. The heat of him mingled with the tang of his cologne, exciting that part of the brain that registered such scents as carnal lust. She had to have him.
He tenderly brought her body to ecstasy as he had done before.
But she wanted more—she wanted him inside her.
She kissed him fiercely, again tasting the exhilarating blend of his evening cognac and him.
Where were her fears and philosophies now? She tamped down that stray thought. They were dissolved by her desire to show her love for him and to see his eyes light again with passion for her.
He kissed his way from her neck to her breasts, pausing to suckle each. Her skin puckered everywhere his lips brushed. Down her belly. Along her inner thigh. An urgent stab of desire shafted through her womb. His lips teased her, making her squirm with longing. She wanted him now.
She tugged him upward onto her body. “I need you now.”
Did he chuckle? She hardly knew. Feeling in control, she widened her legs to encourage him.
It worked. He gently entered her, then paused.
She squirmed with the unaccustomed intrusion, trying to adjust to the unusual sensation of accommodating him. Wanting more, she slid her hands to his buttocks and urged him to continue.
Jonathan responded as she wished. She was slick with desire.
“More!” she gasped.
His rhythmic thrusting, his pounding heart under her hand, the brush of his hair-roughened legs against her soft skin, their escalating breathing... by the pallid moonlight she could see his eyes blazing with intensity as he watched her undeniable responses to him.
For a few more minutes he stroked her. Her breath labored in her lungs. She wanted more. More sensation, more everything.
One more thrust, then ripples of ecstasy stormed her brain. A few moments later, Jonathan groaned his completion. His forehead touched hers, and his lips sought her own. He rolled them on their sides.
His voice rasped with emotion in her ear. “Jane, you’re a goddess. You make me feel strong... virile... empowered.”
She sighed with satisfaction.
Afterward, she lay encircled in his arms, his muscular chest firm beneath her cheek.
Her fingers played in his hair, uncurling each soft brown spiral to its full length in fascination before releasing it to resume its former curl.
She blushed to think of how she had held him tightly in her arms, kissing him ardently and urging him with her whole body to take his pleasure from her.
She had acted like a wanton until he submitted to her wish.
Now she was at peace. Perhaps for the first time in her life.