24. Chapter 24
The following four days flew by. This morning, the sun streamed into Emma’s pretty guestroom at Stoneleigh Manor.
She spied a tray nearby which contained a steaming mug of hot chocolate and several biscuits.
As she stretched in her comfortable bed, she gently tested her shoulder.
It was improved, if still a bit sore. Her arm still hurt around where she had been shot.
The muscle had been ripped to shreds, and it still burned when she tried to use the arm.
Andrew had been attentive to her every need.
Never in her life had Emma been so pampered.
The morning after her first full day at Stoneleigh, Andrew had swept into her room bearing a small tray of hot chocolate, toast, and raspberry jam.
She tried to shoo him out of her room. “Andrew, you are not supposed to be in here! I am not presentable in the least!”
“This is my house. I can be anywhere I choose.” His boyish grin had been irresistible. “Besides, I come bearing breakfast.”
Setting the tray down, Andrew had presented her with the cup of hot chocolate.
“How are you feeling this morning?” he’d asked.
“Disheveled.” She shouldn’t have been surly with him, but she was never her best first thing in the morning. She felt uncomfortable and raw that morning.
Andrew had walked over to the dressing table and picked up a brush. He’d moved to come sit on the bed. “Turn please,” he’d ordered gently.
Emma had scooted to present her back to him, and he’d started to brush her hair.
With each stroke of the brush, the tension had slid from her body.
With his warm body behind her and his deft hands running over her hair, she’d relaxed inch by inch.
She’d closed her eyes and taken a sip of her hot chocolate, letting herself be taken care of by someone else. It was a new and strange feeling.
He had the hot chocolate sent up each morning since.
Then Andrew would show up later with a tray laden with eggs and sausage.
She suspected he was coddling her, making sure she ate, but she felt so well rested she couldn’t muster any annoyance.
She couldn’t remember the last time she had had no one to take care of, no tasks to complete.
Emma smiled as she carefully scooted herself up to a sitting position. It really was sinful. She reached for her hot chocolate and took a sip of her drink.
Andrew had not just been making sure she ate, but he also had been a pleasant companion.
He would come by later in the afternoon again to have tea with her.
He didn’t stay too long, not usually more than an hour, but they talked of all manner of things.
He hadn’t pressed her for any more information about her past; instead, they talked about his family, his boys, and his childhood here at the estate.
Darn him for being so charming. She needed to remember this was a temporary situation.
Once she recovered fully, she would have to return to London and her real life.
She swung her legs over the edge of the bed.
Perhaps she would call for a bath this morning; it had been more than a week since she last had one.
An hour later, Emma lay deep in warm water in the largest copper tub she had ever seen.
She examined the row of black stitches running down her upper arm.
The skin around the stitches looked angry and red, but the water lapped at the wound, soothing her skin.
It was an ugly reminder of her encounter with Mr. Caldwell.
She closed her eyes. Memories of her panic as she raced down that hallway clogged her throat.
The pain of the ball searing through her flesh and the fall down the stairs all stood out cold and clear in her mind.
She’d never been as scared as when she forced herself to run through the garden and away from that house.
In the past, she had always felt so clever when she escaped unnoticed from a house where the owners came home unexpectedly. Emma scrubbed a wet hand over her face, and the bathwater splashed against the sides of the tub. Not this time. This time had been horrible and frightening beyond belief.
The sound of the door opening and shutting pierced her thoughts.
“Emma?” Andrew’s voice rang out. “Are you all right?”
He came around the screen, his eyes widening in surprise to find her in the bath. His gaze swept over her, and Emma’s first reaction was to cover herself with her arms. Her gaze collided with his. The heat that flared between them stole her breath.
He pivoted away abruptly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were in the bath.”
“Wait,” she called out to his retreating back.
He paused but didn’t turn around. Why should she feel so shy around a man whose hands had roamed over every inch of her body?
Granted, it had been in total darkness; he had never seen her naked before.
Screwing up her courage, she said, “Andrew, don’t go.
Will you help me out of the bath? My arm is still sore when I try to use it for leverage. ”
“Of course.”
Andrew turned around slowly. All business, he reached out a hand and, using her good arm, pulled her to her feet.
Then he lifted her over the side of tub.
They stood there, inches from each other, his fingers still entwined with hers.
Emma’s heart raced. She shivered as the cool air hit her wet skin.
Her shiver broke the spell between them. Andrew grabbed a towel from the chair next to them, and he wrapped it around her. She flinched as the towel rubbed against her injury. He immediately pulled the towel away from her arm. Then he began to pat her skin dry.
The soft terry cloth caressed her skin as he made his way down the length of her body. He knelt to dry her legs, and she gasped at the whisper-soft brush of his lips on one hip. He leaned over to place a kiss on the other hip. Then one right above her navel.
Andrew looked up at her, a silent question in his eyes.
Emma ran her fingers through his thick dark hair and nodded.
In return, Andrew gave her a wicked smile.
His hands ran up her legs, caressing each calf, trailing up the outside of her thighs, then settled on her hips.
He nuzzled one breast, giving the underside a leisurely kiss.
At her sigh of pleasure, he captured her nipple, and he gave it a slow suck.
His tongue slid around its peak, and her fingers tightened in his hair, lest he think of pulling away.
A moan of pleasure escaped her lips as she savored the hot feel of his mouth on her breast. Her eyes fluttered closed.
He pulled away to switch his attentions to the other breast, taking the puckered nipple into his mouth. Emma gazed down, watching him lick her nipple and then drag his lips along the curve of her breast. Her womanhood throbbed in response.
He rose from his knees, never taking his gaze from hers. Then he captured her mouth in a searing kiss. Dear God, the heat of this man's lips could scorch her soul. Andrew’s hands cupped her bottom as he picked her up, and she wrapped her legs around his waist.
The hard evidence of his desire for her pressed right up against her core as he carried her over to the side of the bed and sat her down gently on its edge.
She felt bereft without the warmth of his body pressed up against hers but soon forgot as he started to undress.
Andrew’s eyes more gray than blue were stormy with desire.
First, he removed his cravat, untying it slowly and tossing it aside.
His waistcoat joined the cravat on the floor.
Then, he drew his shirt over his head, exposing the taut golden skin of his well-muscled chest. A light dusting of dark hair led down from his chest to his navel and then disappeared into his waistband.
He made quick work of taking off his shoes and stockings.
When he began to unbuttoned his falls, Emma’s mouth went dry as his hard cock sprang free.
She grew wet with anticipation of riding that thick length again.
Andrew groaned as her pink tongue darted out to run along her lips. The look in her eyes was pure want. “Emma, I have been dreaming of seeing you like this, naked in my bed. You have been haunting my dreams.”
“Then why are you still over there?” She beckoned to him with one hand.
The moment he’d truly seen her naked for the first time, the bath water lapping at those pink nipples he had gone hard as a rock.
Now, he drank in every curve. Curves he’d known with his hands and his lips but had never seen in the light of day.
Her naked body was like a beacon, beckoning him to crash onto the shore. But what a glorious way to go.
He ignored her outstretched hand and instead knelt beside the bed. Now that he could see her, all he wanted was to worship every inch of skin. He wanted to bury his tongue in her sweet pussy. He slowly spread her knees to expose her lovely pink center.
“Andrew, what are you doing?” Emma propped herself up with her one good arm. Her brow furrowed in confusion.
For all her bravado, Andrew had a feeling her past lovers hadn’t a clue how to pleasure a woman.
He placed a kiss on the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh and felt it tremble beneath his lips.
Then he left a trail of kisses up the soft skin there until he got to her core.
As he gave a slow lick up the seam of her sex, Emma gasped out his name and fell back against the covers.
He continued to lick and nibble at her, taking his time to enjoy the taste of her arousal and each sigh of pleasure he elicited.
When he had her bucking her hips up to meet his mouth, he knew she was close to her crisis.
He slipped two fingers into her wet warmth, pushing her over the edge.
Her fingernails bit into his scalp as she cried out his name.
He placed one more kiss on Emma’s quivering center, then lifted his head to look at her as she lay panting, her face flushed pink. Christ, she was breathtaking.
His cock throbbed insistently with the need to bury itself in her.
He stood and leaned over her, careful to keep himself propped up on his arms above her so he wouldn’t harm her shoulder or arm.
He dipped his head to kiss her, his tongue diving into her mouth, urging her to taste herself on his lips.
She ran her left hand up into his hair, holding him in place as they lost themselves in a dance of tongues and lips.
Emma lifted her hips, and she rubbed herself along his cock.
Groaning against her mouth, he thrust his cock into her with one swift thrust. She called out his name in a hoarse shout, and his control snapped.
He thrust into her over and over, losing himself in her body.
This was where he wanted to be for the rest of his life, tangled up with this woman.
She met each of his thrusts with her hips in a rhythm which was uniquely theirs.
His balls tightened, and his orgasm built at the frantic pace of their coupling.
Emma called out his name as her orgasm rolled through her, her sex convulsing around his cock, the pleasure so sweet that he barely had the control to pull out and spill his seed onto the bedsheets.
Andrew buried his face for a moment in the crook of her neck.
Christ, he had almost let himself come inside her, his desire to mark her as his so strong.
His breath sawed in and out. Then he kissed his way across her cheek to her mouth, nibbling at that full lower lip of hers.
Looking down into her satisfied, smiling face, he couldn’t hold back how he felt any longer.
“Marry me, Emma.”