And she began to feel an aching yearning inside her, the need to touch this man. She shifted against him, and the ridge of his erection made her go breathless. He tensed but finished the story.
“Did you like it?” he asked.
“Very much.”
He set the book aside, and she kept her hands in her lap, not knowing what to do now. Cormac answered her unspoken question when his arms circled her waist. He touched his forehead to hers, and she could feel the warmth of his breath against her lips and the burning heat of his skin.
Without understanding why, she leaned in close and kissed him. The gesture seemed to awaken a storm within him, and he captured her mouth, sliding his tongue against the seam of her lips. She didn’t know what he wanted, but when she opened her mouth slightly, his tongue entered.
The kiss deepened, and she moved in his lap until he groaned. “You’re killing me, Emma.”
She didn’t know what he meant by that but wound her arms around his neck. The kiss gave her a sense of power, and when she imitated him, sliding her own tongue against his, he adjusted her position until his shaft rested between her legs.
She could feel the length of him pressing against her, and it shocked her to realize how good it felt. He was kissing her hard, and the motion of his body made her grow wet between her legs. Even her breasts seemed to tighten beneath her gown.
When he started to lay her down on the settee, she suddenly came to her senses. “Cormac,” she whispered, breaking from the kiss. “Someone could see us.”
He cursed softly in Irish and then moved her from his lap. “Let’s go upstairs,a stór.”
Her breathing was unsteady, and she knew the fateful moment was coming. He would remove her wedding gown and consummate the marriage. She was torn between fear of the unknown and the desire she now felt.
She barely knew Lord Dunmeath, and the thought of being intimate with him scattered her thoughts. She lost track of the steps as they walked upstairs and down the hallway to his bedchamber.
Cormac led her into the room and closed the door behind him. To her surprise, she saw a bright fire burning on the hearth. The room was warm, and everywhere, she could smell flowers.
He’d done this for her—just as he’d brought the wedding flowers. It was a thoughtful gift, and she gathered courage from his kindness.
Cormac caught her hand in his, and she pulled him to stand close to the fire. “Are you cold?” he asked.
Emma shook her head, but she couldn’t suppress a nervous shiver. Or was it anticipation? She couldn’t deny that Cormac tempted her with his kisses. She’d been overwhelmed by the mere sensation of sitting in his lap, and the story that he’d read to her had crumbled her defenses. Now it was time to surrender to that temptation.
“I’m not cold now, no,” she answered. Then she rested her hands upon his chest, feeling the warmth of his muscles beneath her palms. He wouldn’t hurt her; she believed that. But what startled her most was her own response to him—the yearning he’d awakened. And she dared to add, “I might be cold, after you remove my gown.” Then she turned her back to him in a silent invitation to undress her. She shivered again when his hands rested against her buttons. One by one he opened them, baring her skin. Then his mouth descended to her nape, and he kissed a path lower as he unfastened each button. Soon enough, her gown slid to the floor, and she stood in her corset, chemise, and petticoats.
Emma closed her eyes, transfixed by the touch of his mouth against her skin. She listened to the sound of Cormac’s unsteady breathing, and it made her wonder how he was feeling. Even now there was a sadness about him, the sadness of a man who knew his time was running out. He touched her shoulders and arms so carefully, as if trying to memorize her body.
Slowly, he loosened the laces of her corset, until he could remove the garment. Clad only in her chemise and petticoats, Emma felt completely exposed. She started to turn to him, but Cormac shocked her when he drew her hips against his. She could feel his rigid erection against her spine, and a moment later, his warm hands cupped her breasts through the cotton chemise. Her nipples hardened at his touch, and she was overwhelmed by the sudden rush of sensation. He bent to kiss her nape while his hands explored her breasts. Between her legs, she felt a warmth, almost as if he were touching her there.
And suddenly, she realized that she didn’t want to simply stand here and let him do as he wished. She wanted to learn about him as well, to know his body in the same way.
She turned to him and helped him remove his jacket, then his waistcoat. Last came his cravat and shirt. When his chest was before her, she traced his skin with her sensitive fingertips. She closed her eyes, learning his muscles and the hard planes of his ribs and chest. In her mind, she formed a picture of him, one conjured from her touch.
He, in turn, untied her petticoats and her chemise. The rest of her undergarments fell away until she was completely exposed. He removed the rest of his own clothing until there were no boundaries between them.
“You’re exquisite,” he said roughly, kissing her again. He guided her to the bed, and she grew lightheaded, nervously imagining what came next. Her stepmother had told her nothing except to submit to her husband’s wishes.
And it seemed that her husband wished to explore her body with his mouth. He covered one nipple with a kiss, and a bolt of desire shot through her. His hands were everywhere, moving against her ribs, down to her hips, gently nudging her open.
This was it, then. The moment when she would give him her virginity. She braced herself, waiting for him to enter her body and take her innocence.
But he suddenly stopped. His entire body had gone rigid, and he lowered his head to the coverlet.
“Damn it,” he cursed softly.
Had she done something wrong? Emma reached out to touch him, and then realized that the heat she’d felt from his face wasn’t from desire—he was burning up with fever. Oh God.
“Lie down,” she ordered. She rested her hand against his heart and felt it beating rapidly. “You’re still feeling ill, aren’t you?”
He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Unfortunately.”
