Veiled in Blue (14 page)

Eve gave herself up to him. Eve never did things by halves. When she made a decision she went into it wholeheartedly, and she did that now. She was his, whatever that meant. A burden eased from her shoulders as she did so, but another took its place. She would make him happy.

She would start now. Curving her hand around the back of his neck again, she sank into the kiss, let him take her where he would. He touched her, smoothed his hand up her barely-clad body, and exhaled, a deep breath heating her cheek and her left ear.

With his hand resting on her rib cage, under her breast, he finished the kiss. “Madam, I will ensure your contentment. I will do everything I can to make you happy.”

“I’m happy now,” she murmured softly.

“Could you be happier?”

“I don’t know.” She tilted her head to one side, as if thinking. “Could I? Is there a limit to happiness?”

“I’ve never tried the theory. Perhaps we should.” He grazed her cheek with the tips of his fingers.”

She enjoyed his flash of light-heartedness. It surged through her, raising her up. The other side of his sardonic cynicism, the wry sense he was observing—this engaged him completely.

She had learned another thing about her husband-to-be. When he gave himself, he did it without stint. That he had retained this quality spoke much about his character, his determination, his full engagement in whatever he undertook.

“I will leave you, sweetheart,” he said, but he made no effort to move. He lay over her, his legs either side of hers, his body barely separated from her. That part of him that had made itself apparent before did so again, a rod of hardness and heat pressing against her belly.

“Do you have to go?” Thus, with a few words she committed herself. Her heart beat faster, but she was certain now. She wanted him.

He blinked, glanced at his body, and back up at her face. “That entirely depends on you.”

“But what do you want?”

“Me? You matter most.”

She caressed him, rejoicing in her freedom to do so. “But you are offering to share your life with me.”

“I am. All of it.” A shadow crossed his eyes and then was gone. “So, Eve, what is your will?”

She swallowed. A vivid recollection of her actions that night returned to her, as clear as if it was happening anew. “I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

“Then I will stay. Where will I stay?” He glanced over at the sofa set by the window.

“Do I have to say it all?”

“I fear you do. You must not provoke me if you do not wish for this. A man can only bear so much. Now is the time. Do I stop?”

With heat rising to her face, she shook her head. She trusted him, but more than that, she trusted herself. Whatever happened next, she wanted this. “I killed a man.” A lump rose in her throat to choke her as for the first time she articulated what she’d done.

“You saved me,” he said gently. “There was no other course you could take. If you had hesitated, you would have seen me dead. He had a knife.”

“Yes. I saw it in the moonlight. It flashed, and I didn’t stop to think.” She gripped his arm. “Make me forget.”

“I’ll do more,” he said, and he laid a kiss so soft she hardly felt it on her lips. It felt like a promise.

She returned the unspoken promise and let Mr. King slip from her mind. At least for tonight. This time was theirs, and nothing and nobody would break into it. She willed it so.

As he deepened the kiss, she curled into his warmth. He kissed her until she relaxed under him, opening herself to his caresses. He stroked her, gently at first, until she realized he had unfastened the sash of her robe. Shyly, with fumbling fingers, she performed the same office for him, unfastening the elaborate frogged toggles at the top of his banyan and then the buttons.

Underneath, he was naked. An aroma of soap washed over her senses, combined with a trace of the cologne he used, blending with the scent of his arousal, darker and muskier than she had expected. Excitement made her aware of every inch of his powerful body.

He lifted away from her, unabashedly displaying his firm, musculature, his arousal darker, hard and virile. When she looked back at his face, he was smiling.

“Your turn,” he said.

Swallowing her nervousness, she sat up as he rose, leaning back on his heels as she dragged her arms from her robe and stretched to tug the fine lawn night rail up her legs. Only when she had bared herself to the tops of her thighs did he catch her wrist and turn it so he could unfasten the little pearl buttons at the cuffs.

“I could have got myself in an awful tangle,” she said with a nervous laugh.

He only smiled. “I wouldn’t have let you.”

Before she could think herself out of it, Eve finished the job, pulling the fabric over her head and tossing it aside. Her hair fell forward, so she had to scoop it out of her face and push it back.

Their eyes met. His were smiling. “I chose well,” he said softly. “You are so beautiful, Eve.”

“So are you.” She spoke the truth. Julius was perfectly formed, his proportions magnificent. Broad shoulders gave way to a powerful chest, the gleam of fine hair delineating the muscles. The hair on his head was fair, the color of sunshine, but his brows and his body hair were brown. The sight of him took her breath away.

When he moved, his muscles rippled with coordinated power, leashed for her. He leaned over her, and she obligingly went back against the pillows. His gaze fixed on her breasts. As if he commanded it, her nipples hardened. Sensation washed over them when he bent down and deliberately breathed over them, blowing streams of air on first one and then the other. She gasped, her body lifting involuntarily, begging him for more.

He gave it. He swooped lower to kiss her breasts, one after the other. He drew a nipple into the heat of his mouth and sucked.

“Oh, Julius!”

When he growled, the vibrations rumbled through her breast, to her chest and stomach, and lower. He touched her, smoothing his hands over her, cupping her breast and tweaking her nipple into startling awareness. He could mold her how he pleased, as long as he didn’t stop.

When she flung a hand over her mouth, stifling her cries, he lifted his head. She looked down at him; he was propped on his elbows, gazing at her over the crest of her wet, tight nipple. Arousal rioted within her, thrilling her to the core.

“Take your hand away. I want to hear every sound, every murmur.” He lowered his voice. “Every whisper.” He spoke normally again. “Nobody will hear you. Nobody but me. Your mother has a room on the other side of the house, and so do Alex and Connie. Let this be free and honest. It excites me, to know what I’m doing to you, and how I make you feel.”

Eve had never allowed herself to dwell on the intimacies between men and women, considering they were not for her. But now she could let herself go. She jerked her head in a nod, her eyes filling with tears and her heart with emotion. She reached for him. “Show me.”

He stretched over her until his shaft grazed her stomach. The faint smile on his face slipped away when he kissed her. He touched his mouth to her lips, her cheeks, farther down to caress her throat. Every part of her begged for his touch, for him to relieve the unbearable tension holding her captive.

Then he slipped his hand between her thighs. Eve opened her legs for him, and for the first time in her life felt someone else’s hands there other than her own. He stroked her, gently at first, caressing the sensitive skin at the top of her inner thighs, and then higher, until he nudged open the folds protecting her most delicate parts.

“You’re hot and wet,” he murmured against her breasts. “If I don’t have you soon I’ll burst with longing.”

“Oh, don’t do that. It could be exceedingly messy.”

His laugh was soft and intimate. He worked her carefully, easing his fingers along her crease, stopping just short of her opening. At the front of her sex lay a tight knot of flesh. Eve was already aware how responsive it could get, but it had never felt so big, so central to her being before.

“You are so sweet,” he murmured. “I knew your skin would be like this, better than the finest silk. You’re gorgeous, my lovely one.”

When he inched farther up the bed so his shaft pushed between her legs, she moved to accommodate him, raising her knees and bracing her feet on the mattress.

She had never felt so intimately linked with anyone before. Sometimes she’d imagined it, lying in her bed, fingering her sensitive flesh. But that act was more of relief, relaxing her rather than the febrile excitement coursing through her now.

“I may have to hurt you a little.”

She knew that much. “If you stop now, I’ll kill you.”

He paused, stopped moving, and gazed at her. “I should not do this. We should wait.”

She couldn’t believe his doubts. “You are joking, aren’t you?”

His laugh rang around the room, glorious in its uninhibited splendor. “I think I must be.” When he laughed, his erection moved against her, nudging slightly inside.

Her breath caught in her throat. “What do you call it?”

“What do I call what, sweetheart?”

“Your…erection, your shaft, your member…”

“My cock.”

The room rang with their laughter, and while they were still laughing, he thrust inside her.

A twinge of sharp pain shocked her into awareness and then it was gone. Julius took a deep breath and pushed farther in. Her body clung to his, the intimacy astounding.

“Hold on.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” But he did pull out, only to thrust back in. Propping himself up on his elbows, he gazed at her, his smile completely gone. The muscles in his arms bulged, and his features tightened. “You feel wonderful.”

“So do you.” The breathless quality of her voice surprised her, but she went with the flow.

“Now close your eyes. Let me love you.”

She kept her eyes open, wanting to watch him, to see what this glorious experience did to him. “How many times have you done this?”

“Never,” he said firmly. His strokes grew more powerful, hard and insistent, increasing in strength as her body opened to him, accepting his whole length.

“You have a child.”

“Never with you. With you I’m starting anew.”

Tears pricked her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. This experience was too wonderful to spoil with weeping. As he drove in, she pushed against him, arching her back to achieve a better angle, where she could accept every part of his shaft. Their rhythm grew closer, became one, accepting and giving in equal measure. Sweat gleamed on his body, sticking his hair to his chest. Their bodies slicked together, but neither gave up.

Every part of her responded to him. Heat built inside her, prickling up her spine, blossoming in her head and her breasts. When his chest abraded her bosom, her nipples sharpened, nudged against the power of his body, sending tongues of fire licking through her. “Julius, oh!”

“That’s it, darling. Let it happen, feel it.”

He sounded breathless. Never had blue eyes been hotter. Their bodies slapped together as the sensations inside her grew and swelled to an unstoppable peak. Where she would end she didn’t know. She cried out, screamed his name, everything except what they were doing lost in a pale imitation of this cataclysmic act.

All her emotions joined in a swell, the biggest tidal wave in history, sweeping over her, taking her, drowning her. And she didn’t care. Only he never stopped.

With a great cry, he dropped his head, his forehead pressing against the pillow beside her as he throbbed and finally let go. Heat and wetness seared her as he filled her with his essence.

He slumped over her. Exquisite manners and control were gone, forgotten, leaving only the vital, pure man who was Julius Vernon. Eve’s lover.

After sucking in half a dozen deep breaths, Julius rolled to one side, taking her with him, his arm around her waist. They lay tangled up in each other, the sheets twisted around them. Eve let herself sink into the moment, trying to memorize this for all time.

Fear clutched her. With this act, she’d tumbled completely and utterly for the man who had led her into this new world. Vulnerability shivered over her for a scant moment before she closed her eyes and let oblivion take her.

Julius awoke in his favorite way—with a warm female in his arms. Giving himself a moment of indulgence, he luxuriated in the sensation. Light arrowed in through a crack in the curtains, but it was early yet. What had woken him was the infernal racket of the dawn chorus. Birds tweeted outside the window at an astounding volume, at least it seemed that way.

Turning his head, he gazed at the woman sleeping peacefully. They were tangled up together, as they had been last night. Seeing her so vulnerable, her hair curling over her shoulders and his chest, touched him at a level he hadn’t known existed before. Recalling her sweet surrender, Julius felt at peace with the world. Except for that part of his anatomy that had recalled only too well how she’d responded to his kisses and what she tasted like. His cock rose, ready for action again.

Only then did guilt strike him. He swallowed. He could not regret what they’d done, only when they’d done it. She deserved that she lost her virginity on her wedding night, not before. But last night had weakened his resolve so much he could not think of anything but losing himself in her body.

Loath though he was to admit it, King’s death had shocked him to the core. He had coped, because he had to, but the full force of reaction had hit him when Lamaire was sluicing his back and they were on their third basin of hot water. His knees had buckled and he’d shaken, gripping the washstand to remain upright.

But he’d had to see Eve, and he had to remain strong for her. He might have spoken bravely, but inside he was a mess. Taking her had been his affirmation of life and his claiming of her. As far as he was concerned, they were now married. Only the formalities remained.

All he had to do was tell her who he was and what he could give her as Countess of Winterton. But should he deliver another shock so soon after this sequence of events? He could not lose her now. He refused to consider the possibility.