She took his hands and brought them to the front of her gown. She’d had to alter this dress, sewing the buttons down the front since she had no ladies’ maid to help her. Stephen’s gaze was unrelenting, his eyes burning into hers. “You owe me nothing, Emily.”
“Show me what it would have been like,” she whispered, “if your father hadn’t taken you away from me.” Though it went against everything she’d been taught, she wanted a memory that would last for always.
His mouth drifted against hers in a kiss that was hardly there. She unbuttoned her own gown, placing his hands upon her chemise. His hands curved over the damp fabric, and when he encountered no barrier, he demanded, “Why aren’t you wearing a corset?”
“I’ve no one to help me dress. It was impossible to put on by myself.” Her cheeks grew warm with the confession, but his palm reached out to cup her breast. His thumb stroked the erect tip through the fabric, caressing her as he had that night in the barn. A flood of rich pleasure welled up inside her, and she found herself reaching for his shirt, lifting away the cambric.
His chest was broad and muscled, his firm shoulders ridged with a quiet strength. She laid her palms over his heartbeat, wishing she could make him feel the same longing she was feeling.
He removed the rest of her clothing until she stood naked before him. It was cold in the room, and her nipples were taut in the frigid air. Emily removed the remaining pins in her hair until it spilled over her shoulders, down to cover her breasts.
Stephen’s eyes were raw with need, and he pushed the hair aside to look at her. “Don’t cover yourself in front of me. You’ve nothing to hide.”
He lifted her into his arms, setting her down into the hip bath. The water warmed her skin, tingling all the way to her toes. He scooped up a handful and let it spill over her throat, down her breasts and stomach.
“Do you know how beautiful you are?”
She shook her head, and his hands moved through the water to rest upon her skin. “You’re driving me to madness.” He reached for the soap, his voice turning wicked. “And now, I’m going to make you feel the same way.”
He rubbed the cake of soap, bringing his hands to the curve of her breast. He rubbed circles over her skin, the slippery motion arousing her sensitive flesh. When his palms cupped her breasts, she felt an answering warmth between her thighs. He leaned in to kiss her while his hands soaped her breasts, his fingers stroking the nipples over and over in a slow rhythm.
More warm water rinsed her skin, and he kissed her shoulder, trailing down to the side of her breast. His tongue slid under the curve, and then his mouth fastened upon her nipple.
He sucked gently, and Emily moaned at the contact. Beneath the water, his hands roamed lower. Past her stomach, to the juncture of her thighs.
“You’re beautiful, Emily,” he said roughly, moving his hand against her delicate flesh. His fingers stroked her, and he brought her other hand to her own breast. “Touch your breasts while I show you how badly I need you.”
Emily’s face turned scarlet, but she obeyed. It was strange, to touch her own body. She felt shy about it, but he coaxed her to rub the nipples, to pinch them gently. Aching heat rose through her as she caressed the tips, and he supported her hips, using his other hand to explore her womanhood.
“Do you know how badly I wanted you that night in the stable, so many years ago?” he murmured, kissing her rib cage. “It’s even worse now. I want to fill you up inside.” He slid a finger into her warmth as he spoke, and she shuddered against his hand. His thumb flicked the nub above her entrance, and as she continued to caress her nipples, a dark warmth began to descend. She felt herself straining against him, none of the cold air bothering her now. Her body was unbearably hot, reacting to his touch until she shivered. But she couldn’t seem to understand what it was she needed so badly.
He inserted another finger, mimicking lovemaking. Her body stretched against the unfamiliar invasion, and yet the torment went on. Over and over, he caressed her, while she touched her breasts. Something strange began to happen to her, a wild blossoming heat in her center. Stephen increased the pressure, and her hands suddenly gripped the edges of the tub, while shimmering tremors racked her body, flooding it with a release so hard, she nearly wept from the intensity.
She was boneless, melting against the edges of the tub as he lifted her up and dried her off with a linen towel. Naked and shivering, he laid her down upon the bed, covering her body with the sheets. His expression was dark, almost pained. But he made no further move toward her.
He was going to stop now, she realized. He wasn’t going to become her lover tonight. He’d given her unspeakable pleasure, while he’d taken nothing for himself.
She didn’t like it. It wasn’t fair, and she wanted him to experience the same wildness. Was it the same for a man as a woman?
He was starting to reach for his shirt, but she stopped him. “Where are you going?”
“To my own bed. Probably after I go and stand outside in the snow for an hour.” He sat on the edge of her bed, and she reached out to touch his shoulder.
Embarrassment colored her skin, but she didn’t want him to go. Not yet. The thought of him spending the night in a cold room, away from her, was unbearable.
“I’ve done something wrong, haven’t I?” Her voice caught in her throat, and he turned to face her.
“No, Emily. I’m the one who’s doing something wrong.” He closed his eyes, as if his own desire was still on the edge. “I took advantage of you.”
Though tears stung her eyes, she forged ahead. He wanted her still, she could see it. But likely, he feared he’d have to marry her now. She understood that it couldn’t happen. They were as far apart as a prince from a serving maid. Even so, she didn’t care.
Her cheeks burned with fear and embarrassment, and she realized that he wasn’t going to touch her again. But could she…touch him? Was it so wrong to want this moment for herself, just to love him for a night?
Without asking permission, she ran her hands over his warm skin, across his shoulders and down to his stomach. The sheet fell away, baring her naked body as she walked to stand in front of him. His face tightened, but he made no move to stop her. Instead, he stood and faced her.
When her hands moved to the button of his trousers, he caught them. “Emily.” His voice was husky, and he drew her fingers to his lips. “What is it you want?”
She froze, wishing she could hide her head beneath the covers and die. Had she misread him?
