His stomach growled with hunger, and after the footmen had gone, he took a plate and loaded it with food. Emma didn’t do the same, but he instructed, “Come and sit beside me. We’ll share.”
“You do seem to feel a little better,” she offered. “But shouldn’t you start with toast?”
He patted the seat beside him. “I’m feeding you. We’re sharing a plate.”
She joined him, but he could see that she was starting to turn shy again. “Oh. I don’t know if I’m feeling very hungry.”
“Are you nervous?”
She glanced down at her lap. “Given what you just said about wanting to taste every inch of me? Of course, I am.”
He guessed that she was probably still afraid of being hurt. “I want you to feel wonderful when I touch you,” he said. “I want you to crave me as much as I want you.” He spread jam upon a piece of toast. “I know you promised to share my bed as part of our marriage agreement. And I intend for you to enjoy it.” Gently, he touched the toast to her lips in silent invitation.
She took a bite of the toast and then confessed, “I don’t know anything about what’s expected of me.”
His earlier idea of spending the rest of the day in bed with her was now sounding like her greatest fear. Hewasfeeling better today. And if he could simply show Emma what it could be like between them, he felt confident that their marriage would be a good one, even if it wouldn’t last long.
Though he would have preferred to consummate the marriage right now, she still appeared terrified. And he didn’t want her to be afraid—not at all.
“What would you like to do today?” he asked. “More reading? Or something else?”
“I want you to feel well again,” she said. This time, she reached for the sausage and fed him pieces of that. “I think part of me didn’t truly believe you were this ill. You hid it from everyone so well.”
“It was a necessity. No one wants to wed a dying man.”
“I don’t want you to die,” she said gently. “You don’t deserve that fate. We should try other physicians. Someone might know a way to stop this from happening.” In her voice, he heard a softness, as if she cared about him beyond companionship. But he didn’t want her to have those feelings. They needed to maintain the boundary of friendship, nothing more.
Before he could speak, she continued, “But in the meantime, I should fulfill my part in this marriage. If you truly wish to conceive a child, we cannot wait any longer.”
Chapter Eight
From his silence,Emma wondered if she’d made a mistake. Wasn’t this what Cormac wanted from her? It was her duty to conceive an heir. And from his kisses, she’d believed that he desired her—but more than that, she’d enjoyed the breathless feelings he’d evoked.
“Or, if you’d rather not...”
He reached for her hand. “No, it’s what I want very much. I didn’t want to frighten you.”
Emma finished off the toast and rose to her feet. She walked the seven steps to the bedroom door and turned the key in the lock. Though her hands were trembling, she told herself to be sensible.
“It will be all right,” she said. “As your wife, it’s expected of me.” Her face was burning with embarrassment, but she went to go sit at the bedside. She began to untie her stockings, but then Cormac was standing in front of her.
“Allow me,” he said. His voice was deep, resonant, and it reached inside her to kindle something unfamiliar. When his hands moved beneath her skirts to the ribbons holding her stockings, she felt completely vulnerable to him. His hands upon her inner thighs were dangerously close, and when he began to remove her stockings, his warm hands slid down her thighs.
To her shock, he followed his hands with his mouth, kissing her legs. She was stunned by the sensation, and her hands gripped the coverlet. It seemed he’d been serious about kissing every inch of her body. The thought was dizzying.
When her legs were bare, he reached behind to unbutton her gown. Although he’d done it before, this time, she was more conscious of his touch. And she didn’t want to remain passive; instead, she felt her own urge to touch him again.
After he removed her gown and stays, she turned around in his embrace. Without asking, she unbuttoned his shirt and lifted it up and over his head. “I suppose I needn’t have dressed you.”
“I rather enjoyed your hands on me.” He loosened her chemise, baring her breasts. In the cool morning air, her nipples tightened into hard buds, and his mouth moved over her neck.
Soon enough, he removed the last layer of clothing, and Emma was fully naked before him. She felt so exposed, and yet, she couldn’t deny the rise of anticipation. He would join his body with hers, and though there might be pain, somehow she believed it could also be something more.
Cormac knelt down before her at the edge of the bed. Her heart was pounding, but she grew distracted when his hands moved to her breasts, sweetly stroking the nipples. She bit back a moan, and he guided her to lie back. Another pulse of fear rippled through her, but she pushed it away. She heard the sound of him removing his clothes, and then he hesitated. Somehow that slight pause aroused her more, for she didn’t know where he would touch her next. Her body ached for more, and she couldn’t deny that he fascinated her.
But then his mouth moved to her inner thigh. She gasped at the wicked sensation, and before she could breathe, he lifted her legs to rest on his shoulders. Then he bent and tasted her intimately.
Molten heat washed over her, and she went utterly liquid. Never in her life had anyone kissed her there, and she arched her back, crying out when his tongue stroked her. A thousand starry lights seemed to explode within her head, and when he began to torment her with his mouth, she could scarcely breathe.
