Mark brought her to his room—theirroom from that night onward. He lay her down upon the cinnamon-colored counterpane, and then switched on the bedside lamp. The soft, amber glow of the electric bulb bronzed his features, making his patrician profile achingly handsome. It set his thick, dark, silver-shot hair to gleaming.
Eliza felt dazzled by this steadfast man of substance who was to be her husband. He would be faithful, honorable, and devoted to her. She would be affectionate, ambitious, and attuned to his needs. Together, they would give and take, and support each other.
They would make a good marriage and build a strong partnership.
But tonight, they would love, and leave everything else for tomorrow.
Mark began to undress in the lamplight. Eliza reclined against his eiderdown. Her head was pillowed on soft, feather tick shielded by crisp, clean sheets. She felt warm and wanton and smiled drowsily at him as he stripped off his clothes.
She watched the dinner jacket and trousers fall away. He unbuttoned his waistcoat and loosened his necktie. He fought with collar buttons and cufflinks before finally hauling his white dress shirt over his head. Mark let the discarded garments land where they may, and then stepped free of his underclothes.
Eliza had never seen a naked man before. Her previous partners had only ever bared what was necessary for their pleasure, yet Mark offered all of himself to her gaze, her touch, and her satisfaction. Her future husband was a well-formed man. He boasted a lean, firm physique with long legs and tautly muscled thighs. His arms were strong, and gentle, and made for holdingher.
She fit into his embrace as he joined her on the bed.
He cupped her face and kissed her lips, and Eliza murmured love words into his open mouth. Their tongues touched and danced, teased and tasted. For many languid minutes, they simply enjoyed the act of kissing one another, allowing the intimacy to grow and bloom between them. Roughened legs stroked against her soft, bared knees. Finely fingered hands traced along the edges of her dressing gown to slip the flouncy, lacy fabric over her shoulders and down her arms.
Mark disrobed her by slow, careful inches. He parted the comfortable, second-hand nightdress from her bosom, letting it flutter to the carpet beside his bedstead. His sharp eyes never left hers as large, warm hands found her breasts and curved over them. He plumped and massaged her pebbled flesh, and Eliza moaned at the sensation of merely being touched.
Her nipples peaked against his palms, yet his touch was tender, almost reverent, as he toyed with those aching little points. His thumbs circled, pressing slightly to heighten her arousal. When he bent his head to nip, and suckle, and flick his tongue over the tight tip of each breast, Eliza nearly came up off the mattress.
How was it possible to love this much? To want this much? Tohavethis much—and the promise of more—when so many things had been denied her?
It was almost too good to be true.
Mark’s restrained lovemaking stoked her to a frenzy. He kissed and caressed her as if they had all the time in the world to reach their satisfaction, and perhaps they did. There was no one to pull them apart, no one to drag her away. Together, they had the luxury of drawing it out and making it last.
Eliza never wanted this night to end.
His mouth lingered over her lips and other places, too. He lavished attention on the parts of her body where no man had ever bothered to venture—until now. Until Mark.
She watched him fan his hands over her hips, exploring the curve of her waist and the pair of slender thighs that slackened around his shoulders as he journeyed lower. His breath was warm where she was wet. Eliza relished the press of his mouth and the parting of his lips. She closed her eyes, arching her back, clutching at the counterpane, to savor the slide of his tongue into her core.
He nibbled and nursed there, as well, giving and giving until she feared she could take no more.
She rolled her hips against his busy mouth. He held her clenching thighs and helped her to ride the cresting waves of her very first climax. Eliza was lost in a tempest of pulsing passion, wracked with spasms so intense that she almost screamed.
She did not know that it would be so good, or that it would go on for so long. Yet Mark was there and she was safe, and Eliza felt free to let the sensation sweep her away until she collapsed onto the mattress, utterly spent in his arms.
“Blimey!”she whispered wondrously. She’d never experienced anything so glorious.
Mark laughed against her inner thigh. He placed a kiss on that quivering flesh before dragging his upper body over hers. His chest was solid where hers had gone all fluttery. Thankfully, they cuddled for a few moments while Eliza caught her breath.
To say that their coupling had been ‘earth-shattering’ would’ve been an understatement. Inhermind, a cannon-shot to the moon or a ride on a blazing comet paled in comparison to the thrill she found in Mark van Bergen’s bed. For when he said, “I love you,” softly against her temple, Eliza swore her heart soared higher than the sun.
***
She looked love-drunk and sleepy, and he let her rest. He hadn’t expected this to be Eliza’s first taste of ecstasy, but he wasn’t really surprised. The world was selfish and vicious, and there was scarcely any cause to share one’s satisfaction with another.
Yet Eliza was young. Her time on the streets of London had not broken her spirit. She trusted Mark with her heart and her body, and he’d worshiped her in the way she deserved. She was a woman—and soon, his wife. It was his honor and privilege to please her.
He traced his fingertips through her loose, brown hair. He felt her soft, steady breath against his throat as she relaxed in his arms. He heard her purr like a lazy house cat stretching, shifting, and snuggling against him.
Her hand found its way to his abdomen, grazing her fingernails over the smooth, flat muscles of his torso and the thin, sharp lines of his hipbones. Mark hoped that his body suited her, for he’d maintained his physique despite being tied to his desk. He’d sweated to make England prosperous and labored hard behind the scenes to keep the wheels of finance spinning. He felt gratified as Eliza palmed his erection, marveling at the long, slow glide of her hand as she worked him.
Aroused to the point of aching, Mark eased her onto her back. He arched over her, curling into her, finding her slick and swollen between her thighs. She widened her legs to welcome him in.
He twined his arms around her shoulders, cradling her, loving her, and kissing her until she was breathless. He nuzzled her forehead and brushed his cheek to hers.
