needed to
His gaze never strayed from her face as he began removing his clothes. His coat then his jacket hit the floor, carelessly falling from his impatient fingers. Cravat, waistcoat, and linen shirt followed joining the heap at his feet. Bared to the waist, he approached her, unable to wait another instant to feel her hands on him.
She made a move to unfasten her coat, but he stilled her hands and performed the task himself. Layer by layer, he removed her clothes, then the remainder of his, until they stood before each other naked.
He'd never felt so needful or vulnerable in his entire life.
Reaching out, he cupped her face between his hands and brushed his thumbs over her cheeks. So many words to say, so many things to tell her, but he couldn't seem to find his voice.
'Elizabeth,' he whispered in a husky voice.
It was the only word he was able to manage. What he couldn't say, he'd show her. Drawing her into his arms, he touched his lips softly to hers, aching with a tenderness completely at odds with the inferno burning inside him.
She breathed his name and slid her arms around him.
And the dam burst.
He crushed her to him, overwhelmed with the need to touch her everywhere at once. His lips claimed hers, his kiss growing increasingly hot and demanding. His tongue explored the soft interior of her mouth, withdrawing and then plundering again.
But kissing her wasn't enough. Pulling back, he studied her face, his heart doubling its already breakneck pace at the passion and desire shimmering in her eyes. 'Elizabeth, my God what you do to me…' he moaned his voice thick and unsteady. Sinking to his knees, he pressed his mouth to the creamy skin of her belly.
'So soft,' he murmured his lips trailing across her abdomen. 'So beautiful.' His tongue dipped into her navel before his mouth continued its downward journey. He slowly kissed and licked his way down one long leg and back up the other, while his fingers lightly ran up and down the back of her thighs and calves. When he reached the juncture of her thighs, he raised his head. 'Look at me, Elizabeth.'
Opening her eyes, she looked down at him, showing golden depths darkened with passion.
'Spread your legs for me,' he commanded in a raw voice against the smooth skin of her belly. When she did as he bid he ran one hand down her body, from her neck to the dark red curls that hid her womanly flesh, then stroked between her thighs. Her eyelids slid shut, and a long moan purred in her throat.
'You're so beautiful… so wet… so hot,' he groaned burying his lips against her navel. His lips drifted lower, lower, until his tongue caressed her as his fingers had. She grasped his shoulders and gasped.
Cupping her bottom in his hands, he worshipped her with his lips and tongue, breathing in her feminine musk, tasting her delicate essence, loving her until she shattered against him. Digging her fingers into his shoulders, she cried out as her climax washed over her. When the spasms subsided he picked her up and carried her to his bed settling her gently on the counterpane. Positioning himself between her thighs, he looked down into her beautiful, passion-flushed face.
'Look at me.'
Her eyelids fluttered open and he entered her with one long, hard thrust, embedding himself in her slick heat. A throaty groan escaped her, and she ran her hands restlessly over his back. Moving slowly within her, he watched every emotion passing over her expressive face, his strokes growing longer, harder, and faster. She met him all the way, moving her hips in rhythm with his until he felt her pleasure overtake her once again.
The instant her body clenched him, he lost any semblance of control. His world narrowed to the place where his body was joined to hers. Nothing mattered except her. Him inside her. Her around him. He thrust into her again and again, helpless to stop, mindless with passion. With one final thrust, he spilled himself into her, for an endless moment he whispered her name over and over again like a prayer.
When the earth righted itself again, he collapsed and rolled onto his side, bringing her with him. He wanted to stroke her back, but he couldn't move. He couldn't so much as make a fist. Truth be known, he could barely breathe. He'd never experienced such intense lovemaking in his entire life, and an inner warmth more wonderful than anything he'd ever felt pervaded his entire system.
He loved her.
By God he loved her.
Loved her so much he ached.
He stilled. But what if she didn't return his feelings? What if-
He ruthlessly cut off the thought. She simply had to love him, and that's all there was to it. And if she didn't now, he'd just find some way to make her love him. As much as he loved her.
The words he'd never spoken to anyone welled up inside him. He needed to tell her. Had to tell her. He wondered if she already knew. Had she read his mind? Discerned his feelings? Possibly, but she'd never said so. But even if she had divined his feelings, she deserved the words.
Turning his head he brushed his lips over her temple, then leaned back, determined to look in her eyes when he told her he loved her.
With his heart pounding, he opened his mouth to speak, then shut it.
His wife, his robust, energetic wife, was fast asleep. 'Elizabeth?'
A soft snore was his only response.
Shame filled him. How selfish of him to worry about his own needs when she'd had such an exhausting evening. By damn, she'd fainted in his arms only an hour ago. If he wanted to win this woman's love, he needed to banish his selfishness to the devil. His Elizabeth wouldn't be bought with baubles, titles, and jewels. But he could win her with kindness. And love.
He'd finally put a name to the 'Elizabeth feeling.'
Careful not to wake her, he pulled the counterpane over them and settled her comfortably against him. After listening to her even breathing for several minutes, he pressed his lips to her forehead.
'I love you,' he whispered. 'I love you.'
Chapter 18
The vision slipped into Elizabeth's slumber with the stealth of a master thief.
Images weaved through the shadowy recesses of her mind curling like vaporous plumes of smoke only to dance just out of reach.
A child. A beautiful little girl with shiny ebony curls and bright, gray eyes. Running, laughing, calling, 'Mama!'
Then the vision changed. Laughter turned to fear. The child's terrified screams filled Elizabeth's mind reverberating through her, filling her with dread.
The child's angelic face turned to a pale mask of fright. Womanly hands reached out to her, but the child seemed to glide farther out of reach, until she disappeared completely from sight, leaving only the echo of her sobs.
Then Austin, torn apart with such grief, such desolation and guilt, that Elizabeth barely recognized him. His voice was a ragged whisper,
Elizabeth awoke with a startled gasp. Her heart slammed against her ribs and her lungs burned as if she'd run for miles. Yet she felt chilled down to her very soul.
Her eyes sought out Austin, who lay in peaceful slumber next to her. Thank goodness he was asleep, for she was incapable of speaking.
But dear God she would have to tell him.
He had to know that she'd seen the death of a child.
A child whose death he would blame himself for.
