Chapter Seventeen #3
“You are mine, Charlotte, and we will do great things. Together.” This time it was he who kissed her.
With a mere meeting of mouths and fencing of tongues, he soared, forgot everything he’d hated about himself for years.
In her, he was made new, and she was proud of him, couldn’t wait to spend her life with him.
That was so therapeutic that he shook from the excitement of everything waiting for him.
Almost giddy, he drank from her again and again as if he wanted to share each breath or commune with her soul.
When she held his head between her hands, rested her forehead on his, he shook with need.
“I’ve never felt this way before. You’re in everything I do, each heartbeat, each breath.
I only wish to see you happy and protected, but alternately, I can’t wait to see you succeed in whatever you do. ”
“That is all I could ever want from a man, as long as you know I want the same for you.” While kissing him, she reached between them, took his length in hand and guided him to her opening.
“No more thinking, William” she whispered and wriggled her hips in encouragement.
“Be the man I need, the man I know you are.”
Awareness and awe raced over his skin. As moisture gathered in his eyes, he thrust into her with authority.
The warmth of her closed around him, and each time he moved in and out of her honeyed heat, he couldn’t help but cry out in pleasure.
Charlotte sighed, looped her arms about his shoulders and all but clung to him while he stroked.
There was passion to this joining as well as softer emotions, and it was much different than the other times.
Each hard thrust pulled a moan from her lips.
Every deep push had him seeing stars behind his eyelids.
Every time she rocked on him, he risked shattering.
Urgency rode his shaft. His stones drew tight to his body.
When he delved his hands beneath her bottom and lifted her up to impale her as deep as he could, she cried out in surrender.
Their gazes connected and his world tilted again.
Until the day he died, he would meet her at the breakfast table for newspaper readings and conversations.
He would enjoy walking through Hyde Park with her, twirling her about dance floors, and she would be his partner, his support, in every conceivable way, while he did the same for her.
In that one unguarded moment, he realized he wasn’t unlucky at all.
The thought filled him with renewed purpose, cleansed his soul.
William drove into her as if joining with her body was as essential to him as living.
Deeper. Harder. Longer his thrusts grew, and she slammed down each time he went upward.
They moved together in a dance as old as time.
It hurtled them both toward that yawning precipice of bliss.
When Charlotte toppled into the vortex, she dug her nails into his back, bit down on the fleshy part of his shoulder, and her scream of completion was only slightly muffled.
Well, damn. She truly had left her mark, just as she’d said.
“William.” Over and over, she murmured his name like a litany upon her lips, and he continued his domination.
Even as he claimed his own release, he pumped into her warmth. Finally, he collapsed beneath her, and she came over him, covering his body with hers as her ragged breathing rasped in his ear. “That was… incredible.”
“Agreed.” With her arms and legs wrapped around his sweaty form, she kissed the side of his neck, his chin, his cheek, his closed eyes. “You’ll do, Wolcott. You’ll do well indeed.” Then she ruined the moment with a giggle that went straight to his heart.
“I love you,” he whispered and held her tightly to him as best he could. There was no rhyme or reason. It had just happened, and was as natural as breathing.
“I love you too.” She snuggled into him. “Let us hope this true engagement will be everything we want it to be.”
“It will because we’ll make it that way.” His muscles tensed, and seconds later, he flipped them both over. For long moments afterward, they lay in a tangle, their bodies pressed together, their breathing in tandem. “By the by, I want us to wed sooner rather than later.”
“That would be lovely, but my brother is getting married the first week of next month.”
“While I’m happy for him, that doesn’t concern me.
” He paused to nuzzle the crook of her shoulder.
“I want you, I need you, I love you. To that end, I intend to procure a special license so we can wed next week.” When she reached for her spectacles from where he’d thrown them at the side of the bed, he grinned.
“I’m an earl, for fuck’s sake. That should carry some weight. ”
“Oh, I’m certain it does, you arrogant arse.” A laugh escaped her, and as a few tears fell to her cheeks, she hugged him. “I can’t wait to marry you.”
“Then my reasoning stands.” Because he could, William set out to kiss her senseless.
After a few moments, they snuggled into each other once more. Charlotte drew her fingers through the mat of hair on his chest. “What do you plan to do about the book Francine wrote?”
“What of it?” A wave of exhaustion hit him, and his eyelids fluttered. Too soon he’d fall asleep. Again.
“Well, I want to either burn it or chuck it into the ocean once we remove to your estate in Kent.”
He frowned. “Why?”
“Because it’s a horrid book.”
“But it won me you and put Francine in prison. Beyond that, it is evidence against her a barrister will want to see before she’s sentenced to the noose.” How fortunate had he’d been to escape her machinations? If not for Charlotte, he would be six feet under.
“Fair enough, but we’re going to hide it in your library, and once we have children, you’ll need to put it in your safe. They are never to see it.”
“Very well.” Then her words sank into his tired mind. His eyes widened and he sought her gaze in the morning sun. “You want a family? With me?”
“I do.” Her smile as she nodded sent his world tilting once more. “I want as many children as you’ll give me, Wolcott. All little versions of you because I love you so much, and I want your legacy, your memory, to live on long after we’re both gone.”
Well, shit.
“I don’t know what to say.” So he didn’t try. Instead, he claimed her lips again until she begged him to stop lest she break apart.
There was much to be said about misfortune, but sometimes, a man needed to forget all of that and take control of his own fate. And damn, but he couldn’t wait to see where his path would lead next.