“Not everyone is. Luke—”
“Lukeleft me when I most needed someone, and he did not so much as have the decency to tell me why. Even now, his motives remain a secret, and I was left to deal with…” His throat bobbed, and he looked away.Lady Lydia.Eleanor wished she knew enough to understand. “Well, he was just another in a long line of people who have left me.”
“I will not leave you,” she said, almost desperately. “Please, believe me.”
“I wish I could believe you, but we can never know what we must face in life. We never know what might happen, or how our hearts may change.” His expression twisted, and she felt certain he was thinking of Lady Lydia again. He had a tally of all thepeople who had abandoned him when he needed them, but she would not become one of them. “Besides, it might be better if you did not learn to care so much. I am too broken a man to give you what you need.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know it better than you might think.” He gave a sad smile and drew back, and Eleanor felt her heart crack at the gesture. “You have proven yourself to be soft and good and everything I’m afraid I cannot be.”
“I want you just as you are,” she pressed, scrambling to follow him out of the room, nakedness and all. “I don’t need you to change for me, Sebastian. I just want you.”
He frowned down at her, and the raw pain in his voice cut her open, too. “You don’t know what you are asking.”
“Please.” She took his hand and brought it to her lips. “You are my husband, and I—” She didn’t quite dare to say the words in case they scared him off again, so she said, “I care for you.”
“I should push you away,” he murmured, laying a hand on her bare waist and drawing her closer to him. “I should remember all the reasons why it is foolish to care.”
“There are no reasons when it comes to us.”
“There are plenty. And I have forgotten them all. That is my folly.” He laid a hand on her bare waist and drew her closer to him. “I think you may be the death of me, my sweet wife.”
“Gladly.”
He chuckled, but his expression smoothed, and when he kissed her again, Eleanor knew with a certainty that he would stay the night.
Sebastian did not know when he had fully abandoned his plan of forcing Eleanor to leave him. But as he lay beside her, listening to her soft breaths in the darkness, he knew how utterly in vain it was. Everyone left him—and Lydia had taught him how fundamentally unlovable he was, especially given his fear of attachment.
Yet for all that, he had given Eleanor space in his heart. There was no purpose in trying to deny it. He had given her space, and she had taken hold of it with both hands. Now, if he lost her, he knew just how much it would hurt. But for the first time in his life, or at least the first time in a long time, he resolved to do what he could to keep her.
Dresses. Gifts. Pin money. A wooden cage for that ridiculous mouse of hers so it would not defile her drawer and have a secure place to stay when it was not on her person. That would give him peace of mind, too, to know that the rodent would notcrawl across his face as he slept. But most importantly, it would giveherjoy.
When had that become the primary focus of his life?
She stirred and rolled over, her breath hot against his arm. She remained naked, and he had removed his clothes for the night, too. Skin-to-skin; it had been a long time since he had allowed that liberty with another person. The first time he had shared a bed and the night with another.
His body stirred at the thought and her proximity, and the understanding that he would no longer be seeking to find ways for her to annul the marriage. She had made it plain enough that she had no intention of it, and there was no point flogging a dead horse.
No point in denying them both any further.
He reached over and stroked a hand down her arm. Her breath hitched, then she sighed in what sounded almost a little like relief. “Sebastian?” she whispered, her voice heavy with sleep and—yes, there was lust there, too.
That was another thing he adored about the woman he married. She wanted him just as much as he wanted her.
He leaned over and pressed his mouth to hers. Even sleepy, she stirred under him, and he kissed her jaw, her neck, the hollow of her throat where her pulse thudded. She wrapped her armsaround his nape, and he continued his explorations. Her breasts, and the dusky nipples that had already stiffened in anticipation of his attentions. She let out a soft cry as he allowed his teeth to graze them.
Yes, he would not be stopping now unless she bid him to. He ached, hard and ready against her leg, eager to sink inside her and make her his in every definable way. Finally, the marriage would be consummated. She would behis.
Heneededher to be his. To stay his.
This went beyond mere passion or desire. Heneededher the way a man needed air to breathe and water to drink. Having her had, somewhere along the way, become an integral part of his life, something he needed, lest he slowly fade away.
She shuddered underneath him as he kissed his way down her body. Soon, he would have her, but first, he wanted to taste her.
“Sebastian?” she asked uncertainly as he kissed her inner thigh.
“Hush. You’ll enjoy it.” He gave her another reassuring kiss against her thigh. “I promise.”
