Slave to the Night (The Brotherhood Series, Book 2) (23 page)

It took a moment for her eyes to become accustomed to the dim light.

"I wasn't sure when you'd come." Elliot crossed the room to greet her, taking her hands in his. His casual dress: a loose white shirt and beige breeches reflected the way she felt in his company. Comfortable and at ease.

"I'm not disturbing you?" she asked as he stepped behind her to help her out of her pelisse. The pads of his fingers brushed against the exposed skin at her nape, and as she shivered with pleasure, she felt the soft touch of his lips against her skin.

Grace closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. The smell of sandalwood surrounded her, penetrating her clothing, seeping deep into her soul.

If only they could bar the door and never leave. She would be content to spend her days conversing, her nights wrapped in his strong arms.

"My door is always open to you," he said turning her around and pulling on the silk ribbons of her bonnet. He lifted it gently off her head, all the time his vibrant green eyes staring into hers. She gave him her gloves, and he took all the items and placed them on the wooden chest. "Would you care for something to eat or drink?"

His voice drifted over her like silk: smooth, soft and sensual. The simple question caused desire to ignite — a roaring furnace of emotion flooding her body. Just being in his presence made her head spin, made focusing on anything other than what it felt like to touch him, impossible.

"No," she said, noticing the sinful way his mouth curled at the corners. "I've recently had breakfast. I don't need anything else."

Only you
.

The power of her desire for him shocked her, shook her. Even the tips of her fingers were trembling in anticipation. Perhaps it had something to do with the emotional strain she'd endured this last day. Perhaps, with the mystery of Caroline's disappearance now behind her, her emotions were free from guilt.

Or was it because she knew this was goodbye?

A sob caught in the back of her throat and she swallowed to disguise it.

"Your sister is well?" He asked the question while his hungry gaze swept over. He wanted her, too. She could feel it radiating from him, the air between them buzzing with a magical force.

"There is much to tell," she said stepping closer to him. "But it can wait for now."

A fever burned through her, making her delirious, making her body flame.

She came to stand just a few inches apart, pulled his shirt over his head while he watched with a look of amusement. When her itchy palms settled on his bare chest, the same throbbing sensation that had accompanied her release pulsed in her core.

A pleasurable hum escaped from his lips. "What do you intend to do now?"

Her only coherent thought was that she needed to feel him. She needed to feel full with him. Only him.

She swallowed down her nerves.

This would be the last time.

"I need you, Elliot." She caressed his chest, the dusting of dark hair tickling her palms. "I cannot wait. There's no time." Her breath came in short pants as she fiddled with the buttons on his breeches. Her fingers felt numb. She didn't have the strength push the buttons through the holes. Frustration surfaced. "I can't do it."

Elliot looked at her and smiled. "Shush." He stroked her cheek, ran his thumb over her bottom lip. "Let me do it."

Feeling a desperate need to hurry, she got to work on the buttons on her dress. Before she began untying her stays, he was already gloriously naked. Magnificently aroused.

"Quick, untie me." She flapped her hands frantically, for no other reason than to speed up the process.

"Love. What's the rush?" he said freeing her until the only thing standing between them was a thin chemise. "We have all the time in the world."

There was no time.

Time had run out for them.

Throwing her chemise to the floor, she threw herself into his arms. The feel of his body touching hers caused the throbbing to return.

"Don't wait, Elliot."

She claimed his mouth as though she was gasping for air. He made no objection and soon settled in with the wild, erratic pace. Their moans and groans were loud, littered with mumbled curses. Their hands were everywhere, the need to touch sparking an excited frenzy.

Elliot pulled away with a gasp, swept her into his arms and carried her to the bed.

When his body covered hers, she felt no fear, only rapturous joy.

Strangely, she wanted to feel squashed by the weight of him; she wanted his body to surround her, to push her down into the mattress until she could hardly breathe.

He took her mouth instantly, their tongues soon lost in deep exploration. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around him, squeezing his firm buttocks when she felt the length of his arousal against her inner thigh. He must have interpreted the sign as a need to heighten her pleasure as he trailed kisses along the column of her neck, moving lower still, edging down.

"No," she gasped using the muscles in her legs to hold him in position. This time, she needed to join with him, to feel the soul-deep connection she knew existed between them. "I need you inside me," she added shamelessly, almost choking on the words. There was no time left for modesty.

Elliot practically roared in response and nudged her legs wider. "You make me insane with need."

He entered her in one long, deep, delicious thrust.

Their mutual hum of appreciation rang out through the room. The muscles in her core drew him in, hugged him tight, never wanting to let him go.

Remember this, she said to herself, knowing she would revisit the moment many times in her dreams. Remember the smell and taste of his skin. Remember what it feels like to be so in love nothing else matters.

With him buried so deep, the pace shifted.

The urgency subsided, as though they were both where they needed to be, where they belonged. She felt him withdraw only to fill her again, sliding slowly, the sensual movement sending waves of ecstasy coursing through her veins. Rolling his hips to rub against her, he stared deep into her eyes, letting her see the pleasure on his face, giving her everything of himself.

Her love for him burst through her like a bright beacon. But she could not let the words fall from her lips. Instead, she wrapped her legs more firmly around him, poured every ounce of feeling into mirroring his motions to heighten the sensation.

Every slow thrust drew her closer to the heavenly place. But she wanted to hover on the brink, to prolong the moment.

"Oh, God, Grace. I … I can't wait."

Elliot's words sent her hurling over the edge. Pure and explosive, her release shattered through her, the muscles in her core clamping round him, holding him now and forever. She shuddered as the tremors continued to pulse. Then his breath came in a long, satisfied groan and he stilled as he joined her in blissful paradise.

There had been few moments in Elliot's life where words failed to describe his emotion.

If fact, that was a lie.

He could think of no other time, except for now. Various words sprang to mind: elation, exaltation, lust, longing — all of them inadequate. All of them falling hopelessly short of describing the joy he felt swelling in his chest.

He glanced down at Grace. Her brilliant blue eyes were hazy with sated desire, her heavy lids revealing an inner calm. Her warm limbs were wrapped around him, enveloping him, holding him.

Hell, he could live like this forever.

But he sensed that would not be the case.

This was goodbye.

Attuned to her thoughts and feelings, he knew she intended to return to Cobham. She'd not spoken the words, but they were there in the desperate way she'd kissed him. They were evident in the way she held him so tight to her body as though they would be fused as one and as such there could be no separation.

He moved to roll off her, but she kept him anchored there.

"Not yet," came the softest, sweetest words he'd ever heard.

That was another lie. I love you had claimed that coveted prize.

Delicate fingers traced a line down his back. "Just wait a little longer."

How could he refuse?

"I'm not squashing you?" he asked just to distract his mind from a host of chaotic thoughts.

"No." She gave a low chuckle. "I like it. I like feeling close to you."

They stayed like that until a certain part of his anatomy decided otherwise. When he did roll onto his side to pull her into his arms, he realised she was asleep.

The slow rise and fall of her chest against his, the enchanting sound as she exhaled softly, would stay with him always.

It occurred to him to ask her to stay. In what capacity, he did not know. He was not likely to propose marriage. And he gave a quiet snort to show the ridiculousness of that idea. But she deserved better than to be regarded as some gentleman's lover.

There seemed to be no answer to the problem.

Had he been thinking selfishly, with his cock as opposed to his heart, he would persuade her to stay. But he could not become another Henry Denton. He would not make promises he could not keep.

What if all he felt was a more complex version of lust?

When it wore off, how would he feel about her then?

While she ignored his monstrous affliction, would the endless restrictions grate on her?

Would she grow to resent him?

Question after question bombarded his mind until it hurt to think. Gazing longingly at the woman in his arms, he kissed her tenderly on the forehead and the mouth. The selfish act being the only way to soothe him.

As soon as his lips touched hers, she kissed him back in the same gentle manner.

"I didn't mean to wake you," came yet another lie.

"I didn't mean to fall asleep." She yawned and arched her back as she stretched, her full breasts pushing against him. "I've not slept since I left you last night."

A deep sense of anguish drifted over him, and he knew he should broach the subject of Caroline and Cobham. "Has your sister said what she intends to do?"

She cuddled into him. "She wants to keep the child. She wants to return to Cobham."

He kissed the top of her head, closed his eyes and inhaled the smell of her hair. A smell unique and perfect, a scent that could not be defined. "And what will you do?"

"Caroline will need help when the child arrives. I fear she'll not cope on her own. She has never been one to embrace the practical aspects of life."

"And so you've decided to offer yourself as the sacrificial lamb once again." He knew his words held a trace of contempt and disapproval, but anger and frustration would have it no other way.

She looked up at him, tears welling. "She needs me. After all she's been through, how can I refuse? Besides, I have nowhere else to go."

Guilt slashed at his heart. "Stay here," he blurted, and from the flicker of hope in her eyes, he knew she had mistaken his intention. "Stay in London," he corrected. "Evelyn's aunt won't be back from India for months. I'm sure she won't mind if you stay there. And it will give us a chance to see how this attraction between us develops."

He wasn't surprised to find the glimmer of hope replaced with disappointment. To his own ears, it made their relationship sound superficial. As though it amounted to nothing more than a casual opportunity to ease a physical need.

"I'd like you to stay," he added. It was the best he could do.

She smiled, albeit weakly. "Perhaps placing some distance between us will help you to determine how you feel. You seem confused. I understand that. I have responsibilities you wouldn't understand."

"Pandering to your sister's whims will only make matters worse." He knew his sour mood stemmed from the pain searing his heart.

"I don't want to spend the little time I have left with you arguing about Caroline."

A low chuckle escaped from his lips. "You make it sound as though you're leaving tomorrow. But you're right. I don't want to fight with you, Grace."

She placed her palm over his heart, covering the devil's mark. "Elliot, I am leaving tomorrow."

It was as though all the air had been sucked from his body causing a huge cavernous hole to open up in his gut. He pulled her tighter to his chest and wrapped his arms around her.

"Damn it all, Grace. Must you leave so soon?"

Pulling away from him to cup his cheek, she wiggled up and brushed her lips across his, letting the tip of her tongue trace the seam. "Show me that you care, Elliot. Spend our last few hours together showing me that this meant something to you."

While he struggled to say the words she needed to hear, he had no issue conveying his emotion when it came to the pleasures of the flesh.

"I'll happily show you what you mean to me," he said feeling a burst of desire mingled with a feeling of despair.

Chapter 21

There were some things a man would never forget: the smell and softness of a woman's skin, the moment he realised a chaste kiss had the power to heal his soul. The moment he let love slip through his fingers leaving him with nothing but the bitter taste of regret.