“I used to think he blamed me for her death. Now, I think he simply couldn’t bear to share her. Not even with his own son.”
The raw pain in his voice made Louise turn to face him fully.
“She loved you,” she said softly. “Look at these words. She loved you before you even came to this world.”
“Sometimes I wonder if I killed the only person who might have.”
Louise set down the sketchbook carefully, then placed her hands on either side of his face, forcing him to meet her eyes.
“That’s not true. Lady Merrow loves you. She sees goodness in you that you refuse to see in yourself.”
“And you?” The question emerged rough, vulnerable. “What do you see?”
“A man trying so hard to be stone, that he’s forgotten he’s allowed to be human.”
His eyes searched hers. “How do you do that?” he whispered.
“What?”
“Undo me. So, so easily.”
And he pulled her against him, his mouth finding hers with desperate need. This kiss was different from their library encounter, deeper, tinged with shared pain and understanding.
When he lifted her onto his bed, Louise knew she should protest. Knew she should remember propriety and reputation.
But Aaron’s body was warm against hers, his breath unsteady, his restraint fraying with every heartbeat.
“Louise …” He paused only to search her face, again.
“Yes?” she breathed.
“If you’re not certain …” he mumbled.
She shook her head. “I’m certain. I want this. I want you.”
He let out a long exhale. “Good. Because I want you. Heavens, I burn for you, Louise.”
His mouth claimed hers again, deeper this time. His kiss was hungry, coaxing, drawing a soft sound from her throat she had never heard herself make.
His hands slid up her ribs slowly, learning her shape through the fabric. When he eased her gown from one shoulder, he did itas though unwrapping something precious. His mouth followed the path he revealed, brushing kisses along her collarbone, then lower, each one a question and a promise.
Louise’s fingers curled in his hair, pulling him closer despite every rule she had ever been taught. He groaned softly, and the edge of it sent a shiver through her.
“Aaron …” she whispered, though she wasn’t sure if it was meant to stop him or beg him not to stop.
He nibbled gently at the hollow of her throat, as though savoring her pulse.
“I want to make you feel good,” he murmured against her skin. “To make you forget all your troubles. Moan for me, Louise. Tell me what feels good, so that I may do it again and again.”
All her thoughts dissolved the instant his lips trailed along the curve of her shoulder. His touch was careful, almost maddeningly tender, as he continued to bare only what he dared, nothing more, his thumb brushing her skin in soothing circles as if to steady them both.
By the time he kissed the new strip of exposed skin, Louise no longer cared about propriety or anything beyond the way his mouth worshipped every inch he discovered, as though he had waited years for the right to touch her this way.
His mouth suckled one bare nipple, causing a ripple of pleasure. His mouth teased at it, flicking with his tongue.
“Do you like this, my sweet?” he purred.
“Yes. Oh, yes,” she moaned.
