Chapter 17 #4
“Make it wet, use your mouth to—” His instruction was lost in a deep groan as Cilly lost no time in doing as he asked, enveloping him in the heat of her mouth.
His skin was so soft, the taste of him faintly salty, and the fierce surge of desire that had swept her away so completely blazed back to life, her entire body alight with the wonder of bringing him that same explosion of joy.
“I’ll die, oh my God, I… I can’t…”
Satisfaction thrilled through her at his words, at the urgency, the desperation, and the way he seemed entirely helpless under her touch. To know she could bring him the same bone melting pleasure he had shown her was power beyond anything she had ever known, and she relished it.
“Celia… Christ!” He bucked as she lifted her mouth away, stroking him slow and yet firm, her gaze upon his face as he clutched at the pillows beneath his head. His body bowed, muscles bunching and flexing as the climax took him over and he spent, spilling his seed over his belly.
Cilly was breathing as hard as he was, overwhelmed by the intimacy, by the trust and pleasure she took in making him come apart so thoroughly.
It took some time before his breathing steadied, and he opened his eyes. For a long moment he only gazed at the ceiling, and then he turned to her, his expression cautious.
“Have I shocked you?” he asked a little diffidently.
Cilly snorted. “No, the only shock is that I appear to have hidden talents. Who knew? That was rather good, wasn’t it?”
For a long moment he just stared at her, and then he began to laugh. He laughed and laughed until tears ran down his cheeks.
Cilly stared at him uncertainly for a long moment and then grinned, which only made him laugh harder.
Feeling inordinately pleased with herself, she went to the washstand and poured water into the basin, using it to wet a washcloth.
Returning to the bed, she cleaned his belly, refusing to feel an iota of regret for what she could not have, when she had so much more than she had ever believed possible.
“Thank you, wife,” he said, his voice gruff with pleasure that she would do such a thing for him.
Cilly smiled and returned to the washstand to freshen herself before getting back into bed.
To her delight, he reached for her, and they lay together, the steady thud of his heart a comfortingly powerful sound beneath her ear. For a long time, they said nothing, simply enjoying the moment of peace, the closeness and warmth of being together.
“I never thought I could have this, Celia, nor anything close to it. Thank you. Thank you for being so utterly lost to reason to think trapping me into marriage was a sensible course of action.”
She laughed and turned in his arms, pressing a kiss to his chest, entirely enchanted that this was something she could do now because she was his wife.
“I have all sorts of equally sensible ideas that will work out just as splendidly, just you wait and see,” she said without a trace of irony.
Damian snorted. “Very well, but let us wait until the morning to discover what other lunatic ambitions you possess, I think I’ve endured enough emotional turmoil for one night.”
“So do I,” she said softly, hugging him tightly to her. “I am so very happy, Damian. Thank you. Thank you for everything, for sweet peas and… and for ices and…” She smothered a yawn, suddenly bone tired after the events of the day. “And for a house with a sea view and for… for….”
She sighed and closed her eyes, for there was time enough now to show him how blissfully content he had made her. They had all the time in the world.
Damian stroked Celia’s hair, which tumbled in a silken mass over his chest. His throat was tight, his heart too full, and the enormity of the day, of the past hours, was almost too much to bear. He did not know whether to laugh or to weep, but either appeared equally likely.
A swell of protectiveness swept over him as he gazed at his sleeping wife.
She had given him a future, perhaps not precisely the one she would wish for, but it was so much more than he had ever believed possible.
It seemed like a miracle of sorts. If only he could find a miracle for her too, one that would allow him to give her everything, all of him, with no fears for the bloody end his mother had inflicted upon his father and her children.
The memory flitted at the edges of his mind, eager to torment him anew but he forced it back. Not tonight. It did not have the same power over him it once did, even if it still terrified him too much to risk Celia any further than he already had.
He felt a little calmer, knowing that Gideon would keep her safe if… if he ever showed signs of following the same wretched path. But he would not think of it, not now, not with Celia warm and trusting in his arms.
It seemed fate had decided to be kind, at least for the present moment, and he was not foolish enough to waste the opportunity given him.
So, he closed his eyes and savoured the feel of Celia’s warm, soft body against his, allowing himself to relive every moment of a day that still seemed like an impossible dream to him, too remarkable to be real.
He stayed awake as long as he could, fighting sleep so as not to waste a moment of this precious night, but in the end his eyes closed, and for once, he slept without dreaming.