Simone frowned. “What?”
Nicholas reached the fingers of both hands into the neckline of her night rail, skimming the fair skin over her collarbone. “Is this one of your mother’s gowns?”
“Nay,” Simone said warily. “Papa had it—”
Nick ripped the bodice into two halves, cutting off her explanation with a cry and revealing her two pale globes of breasts, perfectly round and topped with dark, raspberry nipples.
He dropped forward, his mouth drawn to first one nub of puckered flesh and then the other, and Simone sighed and arched against him. He pulled his head away with a slurping sound, and her breast jiggled back into its perfect fullness, the pale skin covered in gooseflesh.
“Are you cold?” he whispered.
Simone gifted him with a slow, sly smile. “Nay, my lord,” she said. “I am on fire.”
Nicholas growled deep in his throat and moved backward on the bed until he was bent over her. Grasping the two ragged edges of her gown, he completed the separation and caught his breath at the delicate perfection of her body. He clambered to cover her, and she welcomed his kiss, welcomed his hand between her legs.
“Touch me, Nick,” she pleaded against his mouth, and moaned, and Nick obliged her, sliding a finger into her tightness. She pressed upward against his hand.
Nick was shaking so that the very bed beneath them trembled in syncopation with the thunder beyond the chamber. He wanted to please her, wanted to sate her desire before taking her maidenhead, but the sight of her naked body, the sound of his name on her lips, the feel of her hot wetness surrounding him was too much for him to bear.
“Simone,” he said into her neck, “I cannot wait.”
“Then do not,” she sighed.
It was all the leave he required. He withdrew his hand from between her legs and swung over her, pushing her thighs wide with his own. Simone spread her arms on the mattress, a symbolic welcome, an offering, and the delicate lines of her ribs heaved with her breaths. Nick took himself in hand and leaned forward, wedging himself at her opening. Then he balanced on all fours. Simone ran her fingertips down his ribs, his waist, to grip his hipbones.
He looked into her eyes. “You will feel some pain.”
She shook her head and smiled.
“You will,” he insisted, “but only this first—”
Then Simone pulled at his hips and arched into him, and Nick lost his words. He was barely in her and Simone cried out softly. She bucked again, and Nick sank slightly deeper. She stilled with a gasp when Nick felt her maidenhead pressing against him.
“Shhh,” he soothed, dropping to his elbows on either side of her head. He brushed the hair from her face, kissed both her eyes, her lips. He reached down and drew first one of her hands, and then the other around his neck.
“Let me,” he murmured against her mouth.
He withdrew his length from her slightly, rocking his hips back and forth, stretching her. He withdrew more, then sank in only slightly deeper. Over and over he did this, entering and withdrawing an inch at a time, bumping her maidenhead harder each time, quickening his little thrusts. Simone’s pants as he pushed at her drew Nick’s seed to its very limits.
“Oh, Nick,” she moaned, pressing her nipples into his chest. “Please, oh, please…”
And then he pushed his entire length into her fully, harnessing what little control he possessed to not stay seated and explode within her. He withdrew immediately and then entered her again, long, even, firm strokes, relishing the tight gauntlet of her, feeling her every shudder and pulse. He pushed into her, felt her pubic bone through the soft flesh of her mound, ground into her, and felt his release starting.
“Oh God, Simone,” he groaned. He slid his arms under her shoulders, crushing her to him. She opened her legs wider. He had never felt on the verge of something so profound as he did now with this woman. His woman, his wife.
She panted his name as his pace increased, and Nicholas could feel her tightening in rushing waves around him.
“Tell me, Simone,” he demanded through his teeth, striving to hang on to his release a beat longer. “Tell me!”
“I love you, Nick!” she said clearly, and then Simone gave a cry as her climax rushed over the both of them, and Nick felt himself push deeper still within her.
“I love you, Simone,” he panted. “Do you hear me? I love you.”
And then he spilled himself into her, forever and ever, it seemed, and for a moment he was the happiest he’d ever been.
When Nick had finished loving her, he surprised Simone by pulling her close, turning her so that her shoulder blades nestled against his chest, sheltering her in his arms just as he had on their last night at Hartmoore. Simone sighed and closed her eyes, feeling warm and heavy and sated and safe. The musky perfume of their lovemaking hung within the heavy drapes, cushioning the sounds of the fire’s snapping and amplifying their slow, heavy breathing.
“This changes naught, does it?” he asked, his deep voice rumbling low over the crown of her head.
