The Seduction of Emily (26 page)

Emily’s body tingled as she shamefully took in the wholly masculine sight of him. His shirt stretched across the breadth of his muscular back, the seams straining across his biceps as he slapped and smoothed the blanket. She flicked her tongue over dry lips. He was perfection. A wide triangular back, narrowing to a square taut backside and thick muscular thighs . . .

“I know you’re there, you know.”

She started and heat seared her face. Gathering her messy senses, Emily walked forward on trembling legs, grateful for the length of Mrs. Lancaster’s nightgown.

“It looks wonderful.”

He turned and his gaze travelled the length of her body. He grinned and his teeth showed white in the semidarkness. “I assume that nightgown fits Mrs. Lancaster very well. On you? Not so much.”

Emily laughed and forced her nerves into submission by executing a twirl. “I thank you.”

She forced herself to keep her gaze level with his in the hope she appeared confident and flirtatious rather than how she really felt—nervous and almost sick with apprehension.

His smile slipped. “You look beautiful.”

The drop in his voice, the thickening of its tone sent bolts of desire through Emily’s core. She held his gaze. “So do you.”

Her heart beat wildly and her hands shook but Emily strolled slowly forward until she stood inches from him.

His gaze moved from her eyes to her lips and back again. “Do you like the candles? It’s the best I could manage.”

Her gaze blurred with unexpected tears. He suddenly sounded so unsure, so vulnerable it melted her heart a little more. She blinked. “It’s perfect.”

He took the lantern from her trembling hand and placed it on an overturned box beside them. He stared deep into her eyes before lowering his lips to hers. Emily closed her eyes as a swarm of butterflies took flight in her stomach. She must be strong. Must show him she wanted this. If she exhibited even a moment’s hesitation, he might not take her—and she now wanted that more than anything.

He pulled away and Emily opened her eyes.

Gesturing toward the mattress, he smiled. “Shall we sit?”

She nodded and he took her hand, leading her to the mattress. Emily didn’t sit but lay straight back, her inhibitions gone, obliterated by the look of desire in his eyes. They widened with surprise for the briefest of seconds before he lay down beside her. His gaze travelled over her features and he brushed a fallen lock of hair from her face.

“Are you certain?”

She smiled as euphoria rose and burst in her chest. “Yes. I want this. I want you.”

His mouth came down on hers and Emily surrendered. She was his. He was all she needed. She refused to allow any residual trepidation to get the better of her. She trusted him. Maybe even loved him. She pulled him closer, her hands moving to his shoulders and up to the nape of his neck.

He groaned into her mouth and their kiss deepened as his hand slid from her waist and over the bump of her hip. The heat of his touch burned through the thin cotton of her nightdress, melting the last lingering doubts that she could make love to him. Lightning struck her heart when his lips moved from hers to kiss her jaw. She breathed his name into his hair.

His featherlight kisses travelled over her skin toward her ear and the curve of her neck. All those nights alone and ashamed as she touched her body, learning what it desired, had not prepared her for such sensations. His hands were a soothing balm to the open wound of her yearning heart. A wound she’d been waiting for Will Samson to heal.

Tonight she would be the person she wanted to be. The woman who made love to a man who made her feel as though she could change the world in a heartbeat. A man who made her stronger, not weaker. Happier, not lonelier.

Their lips met once more, their tongues entangling and discovering. After a moment, his lips dropped to her collarbone. Her senses heightened as he nipped and gently sucked at her sensitized skin, his hand drawing feverish circles over her thigh and hip. Emily clung to him, her eyes half-closed, the tip of her tongue caught between her teeth. A strange ache beat in her breast and suddenly she yearned for the feel of his hands there.

Blindly, she reached for his fingers and eased them from her hip to her breast. She sensed his hesitation so she held his hand there until his muscles relaxed and his fingers teased her nipple. It hardened beneath his touch and when embarrassment threatened to emerge, Emily exhaled a shaky breath and opened her eyes. She needed to see the admiration in his eyes she’d come to adore. He smiled at her and she smiled back, her self-consciousness slipping away.

“I want to feel your skin.” His smile faltered.

“Then touch me.”

His fingers moved to her nightdress and he loosened the ribbons at her neck. With his eyes locked on hers, his fingers worked until the ribbons came free and cool air brushed her naked breasts. His gaze dropped lower and his eyes darkened to midnight blue as he stared at her bosom.

“You’re so beautiful.”

Emily shivered, desperate for more. He pulled away and took her hands in his. Silently, they lifted onto their knees. Dropping her hands, he pulled the shirt from his trousers and Emily watched. Anticipation, curiosity, and a huge dose of excitement kept her eyes on his chest.

When he tossed the shirt away, she drank in the sight of golden skin stretched taut over a hard chest and thickly muscled torso. A blush struck her face as Emily dropped her gaze lower. She shuddered with arousal. His trousers protruded at the groin. He desired her as much as she did him.

She shifted on the mattress, drawing the masses of nightdress material from beneath her. With trembling fingers, she gripped the hem and lifted it over her head. She tossed it away. The satin of her chemise was tight like a binding around her body, her knickers a restraint. With Will’s gaze so intently on hers, Emily lifted the chemise over her head and tossed it atop the nightgown. His gaze wandered over her bared bosom.

She stole backward and lay down. He came down beside her and their lips met. His kiss was firm and soft, possessive and needful. She scored her hands into his thick dark hair, her fingertips exploring the feel of his scalp, the wondrous shape of his head. He held her upper arms, his thumbs tickling the curve of her breasts. Feeling wonderfully wanton and sensual, she reached for his trousers and popped the button at the waistband.

“Emily.” He breathed her name into her mouth and she increased the pressure of the kiss, not daring to look at her shaking hands fumbling with the buttons of his trousers. One by one they came free and the heat of his erection against her naked thigh made her break their kiss. She looked down and swallowed. He was huge. Thick. God help her, he was beautiful.

She looked up.

He smiled and moved away from her. Standing, he lowered his trousers down strong, muscular thighs and stepped out of them. She averted her eyes, not daring to look again in case she lost her nerve. What would it feel like to have such a mammoth thing inside her? Her body shook but she smiled. It would feel wonderful. To be entirely joined to him.

She opened her eyes and arms. The relief in his beautiful blue gaze sealed their fate and he returned to her side. With no words spoken, he lowered his head to her breast and took one of her hardened nipples into his mouth. She gasped with pleasure as his tongue rolled over and around it, his hand stealing lower toward her most intimate place.

Instead of feeling afraid as she feared, she silently urged him on. Wanted to feel him touch where only she had touched. To bring her the pleasure she’d only given herself.

His hand slid over the cover of her underwear and then his mouth left her bosom. He lowered his body down onto the mattress. With achingly slow progress, he inched her knickers from her body, his lips following their path. Naked and vulnerable, Emily trembled as he moved back up toward her, his mouth capturing hers.

She moved her hands to his shoulders and into his hair, urging him closer, kissing him deeper. He emitted a low growl and his fingers gently inched into her pubic hair. Emily sighed when they glided over the top and down the sides of her sensitized nub. She met his eyes and he rubbed her. Harder and harder he massaged her, his gaze never leaving hers. Emily clamped her teeth together and lifted her hips. Her breathing labored as the sensations built. His fingers were rough and masculine where hers were soft, his increasing friction intense yet filled with love and discovery.

He slipped his finger inside her and Emily gasped. He hesitated. “Let me do this, Emily. Let me see you surrender.”

Her eyes fluttered closed and she squirmed beneath his skillful hand. She smoothed her hand over his chest, his incredibly hard stomach, and through the dark curls at his groin. Inhaling, she took that final step and curled her fingers around his girth, slowly smoothing her hand back and forth; doing what felt natural and praying he liked it. He moaned his pleasure and Emily basked in the thrill of female power.

He was large in her palm, smooth like silk, hard and strong. Seemingly by instinct, he matched her rhythm with his fingers as her center pulsed. She fought to stop from crying out and letting her body have its release.

She wouldn’t. Not yet. She wanted more. Wanted to ride this wave, take the prize with Will travelling deep inside her. Her eyes snapped open. Primal lust burned in two blue-hot flames in his eyes.

“Will, please. Make love to me.”

His hand smoothed over her nub once, twice, three times before he hovered above her. She gently dropped his penis and raised her hands to his waist. Without word or instruction, he laid his legs within hers and Emily opened hers wide in welcome. His hand reached between their bodies and with gentle consideration, he slid tentatively inside her. She felt her resistance, his soft nudge and she broke. At last his body lay flat to hers and they were one.

He moved slowly, gently, until she stole her hands onto the taut firmness of his buttocks and pressed down. He closed his eyes, groaned, and picked up speed. She dug her nails deeper. The sensations roared. Her feelings soared. She lifted her hips, taking him deeper, holding him closer. On and on he urged her, his hips thrusting with joyous precision . . .

Her release came hard and fast, shuddering through her body with such ardent intensity Emily laughed with the shock of it.

She was a woman. Will’s woman. Her joy was unsurpassed.

He made love to her like she would be his for eternity. The words “I love you” spilled from his lips along with his seed and tears of joy fell from Emily’s eyes.

He’d been sketching her since dawn. When he left Bath he hoped the drawing would bring him some comfort rather than pain each time he looked at it. Will rubbed the side of his finger over the chalky line of Emily’s jaw to soften it. God, he loved that jaw. He loved her neck, her collarbones, her breasts. . . .

He shifted as his need to have her rose again. They’d made love twice more during the night and he should leave her be, but even the sight of her naked breasts showing above the wool blanket aroused him. She was a virgin before. A virgin but so incredibly sensual. Will tugged at the front of his trousers in a bid to loosen them. She was everything he wanted but even if he succeeded in getting her away from Milne—correction,
when
he succeeded—he had nothing of substance to offer her.

Frustration burned. He saw no other solution but to let her go. Her loyalty lay with her father. She would never leave him. He could not stay in Bath with neither means nor money. He needed the country where manual work was endless, the fresh air welcome. They were different even if their hearts were so profoundly connected. She deserved a man who could afford to give her everything she desired. He feared the wrong outcome; he feared her passion to maintain her father’s legacy. What if she refused to walk away from Milne? Her conviction was palpable.

“Will?”

He started and looked up from the slate. “Good morning, beautiful.”

Her eyes shone and her sleepy smile grew wide as she languidly stretched her arms above her head. Her nipples showed dark against the creamy white fullness of her breasts.

“What are you doing?”

Guilty heat seared Will’s cheeks. “Nothing.”

Narrowing her eyes, she pulled the blanket around her and stood. “You’re drawing. Please, you must let me see.” Her eyes shone with excitement.

He smiled and snatched the slate to his chest. “It’s not finished.” “Is it me?” She made to grab it.

He held fast. “Yes, but you can only see it once it is done.”

She crossed her arms over the blanket and pouted. “That is entirely unfair. Malcolm will be here to pick us up soon. How will you finish it? Please, let me see what you have drawn thus far.”

“No.”

“Will, please.”

He studied her. “Fine . . . on one condition.”

“Which is?”

“You lay back down.”

She glanced toward the mattress. “I can’t. The day has broken, Mrs. Lancaster—”

“Now that you have risen and covered your beautiful bosom, I have no way of finishing the drawing. However, if you let me see them again, I will sketch faster than a caricaturist befuddled on opium.”

“You are incorrigible.” Her eyes widened with delight. “I will do no such thing. Your request clearly is in more with wanting to see my breasts than your art.”

Laughing, Will placed the slate facedown beside him and lunged forward to grab her. She promptly fell shrieking into his arms, settling her beautiful behind in his lap.

“Kiss me, woman.”

Her lips immediately met his and Will closed his eyes. He breathed in the scent of her skin as it pressed near his nose, sealing it tight in his memory. The night had been short and his hatred for Milne grew. His remaining moments with Emily were limited. Malcolm would soon arrive to collect them and then they would be forced to resume their farce of lady and protector.