In that moment, Nicholas realized he had been utterly sober the night before. He could not have forgotten himself sufficiently to make such an error as joining Eliza abed…and then he recalled the nightmare, the tang of it on his tongue, the smell of the burning flesh and the overwhelming sense of powerlessness that always accompanied it.
He studied Eliza, recalling his conviction that an angel of mercy had come to him, interrupting his nightmare, gathering him into her embrace and granting him solace. It only made sense that he envisioned such a being as Eliza, as perfect a woman as ever there had been. He smiled and lifted her hand from his skin, pressing a kiss to her palm.
Perhaps Eliza was an angel of mercy. Why had she come to him? If pity had brought her to his bed, why had she stayed with him? He could only imagine it had been out of compassion, and that she had fallen asleep herself instead of retreating to her own chamber.
He might have put distance between them, rising to wash and leaving her to slumber, but that rosy nipple tempted him to take just one taste. This opportunity, surely, would never come to him again. Nicholas bent and captured it in a sweet kiss, the sleepy scent of Eliza surrounding and inundating him. There could be no finer scent in all the world. He felt the nipple bead to a taut peak and flicked his tongue across it, liking how she arched her back in capitulation.
He had often guessed that Eliza might be a warm and willing partner abed, but the confirmation of his suspicions only made him yearn for more.
She caught her breath and he glanced up to see her lashes flutter. Nicholas froze, feeling caught and doubting she would be glad to find him where he was.
Eliza’s eyes opened and wonder of wonders, she smiled at him. Her eyes lit, her gaze so clear that there could be no mistake in her thinking. Indeed, she pushed a hand through his hair with a possessive ease. When she smiled sleepily, Nicholas thought his heart might burst. Her fingertips landed on his shoulder and she caressed the breadth of his shoulder slowly, watching her own hand’s progress. She traced his scar with a fingertip and her eyes darkened with concern, her touch so gentle that he did not draw away.
Then she met his gaze and smiled at him.
Nicholas had never seen a more beautiful sight and he was beguiled.
“I read a book of late,” she whispered, which made no sense at all. Then she reached for him, winding her arms around his neck to draw him closer. Nicholas had a hundred questions, but he dared not utter a sound lest he break the spell. He could not have borne to see her turn away. He knew he should put distance between them, but those soft lips tempted him to take one taste.
He could not take pleasure but he would give it.
Eliza’s hair was tousled as he had never seen it, and Nicholas thought it suited her well to be disheveled. She might have been Aphrodite in a Renaissance painting, stepping down upon the earth to claim the affections of a mortal man—or to seize him in thrall. Nicholas had no objections to being her prize. She kissed the pulse at his throat, her tongue touching his flesh in a most electrifying way. He closed his eyes against the delightful torment of her hair against his face, in his hands over his skin. She inhaled deeply after she kissed him, then whispered so that her breath fanned his skin. Nicholas felt a frisson of pleasure right to his toes.
“It spoke of the merit of encouragement,” she murmured. That made so little sense that Nicholas wondered if she dreamed in this moment. He had no desire to awaken her, to be sure, though someone would arrive soon to stir the fire, no doubt. Eliza glanced up at him through her lashes, her eyes dancing in a most enticing way. “And I have found the argument very persuasive.”
Nicholas said nothing, confused by her words, but Eliza did not seem to care. She stretched up to kiss him full on the mouth. The scent of her made him close his eyes with yearning and his grip tightened upon her—even before the tip of her tongue flicked. A jolt of raw desire shot through his veins.
And then his body stirred, as it had not stirred since Badajoz.
Nicholas blinked in wonder even as a jubilation soared through his veins. That only prompted a more emphatic reaction, one that would lead to an inevitable result after five years of chastity. As glorious as the sensation was, Eliza had to leave his bed before Nicholas committed a deed both of them could only regret.
Sadly, he could think of only one way to encourage her rapid departure.
He would grant her one gift first, though.
Eliza’s first initiation of intimacy had less than an encouraging start. To awaken in Nicholas’ bed with him studying her so intently had seemed a sign of pending success and a moment that should not be lost. It could not be wrong to make her desire clear, and it was not wrong according to Mrs. Oliver’s book of advice.
No sooner had her lips touched his than Eliza feared the worst. Nicholas straightened, like a soldier coming to attention—or perhaps a man realizing who was in his bed. She was certain he would cast her aside, or fling her from his chamber.
Then Nicholas uttered a low growl of such hunger that her heart leapt. He locked his arms around her with thrilling urgency and rolled her to her back. He deepened his kiss, claiming her mouth with a possessive power that made her heart thunder, and proved that she was not alone in her wayward thoughts of this morning.
His kiss was a marvel, both demanding and tender, an embrace that made Eliza glad that she had offered encouragement. It had so little in common with the kisses she and Frederick had shared, that it seemed criminal to describe both with the same word. It even was well beyond the kisses Nicholas and she had shared, which she had believed to be remarkable. Those two embraces had nothing upon this one.
And the meeting of their mouths was not all. Nicholas touched her as Frederick had never done, and Eliza felt such satisfaction in his caress that she knew this was as matters between man and woman should be.
His one hand swept down the length of her in a rough caress, then returned to cup her breast with a reverence that brought tears to her eyes. His thumb eased across her nipple in a movement of such exquisite torment that she feared she might not survive it. Then he did it again, and again, and again, so that she wanted to moan aloud.
At the same time, he held her nape in his hand and kissed her thoroughly, the strength of his fingers in her hair and his bare chest crushing her into the mattress. She was breathless and tingling, aroused beyond measure and desperate for more of whatever he might give.
A heat rose within Eliza, one she had never felt with Frederick, and she dared to give more encouragement with such reward. She locked her fingers into his hair and held him closer, kissing him with a hunger that echoed his own. She wanted more of him, indeed she wanted all of him, and immediately.
She was filled with urgency, a delicious and seductive new sensation. She wanted both to linger over this new experience and to devour it quickly to learn its full extent. She wanted to run her hands over Nicholas’ body and explore every inch of it, but she also wanted to lie back and savor his touch, to be worshipped. Her need for more was undeniable—when Nicholas closed his mouth over her nipple again and suckled her with persuasive ease, she thought she would surrender all coherent thought. His hand abandoned her breast and eased over her belly, his fingers sliding between her thighs so seductively that she did moan aloud.
And she was not ashamed.
When she thought she could bear no more, he moved lower, his lips tracing a trail of kisses toward that most intimate part of her. Eliza could only watch him with wonder. Her toes curled when his hands locked around her waist with possessive ease, then he parted her thighs and bent to kiss her sweetly. His touch sent a shock through her, one that changed to a gasp as his mouth closed over her.
He commenced upon a sweet torment beyond anything she had ever experienced before and Eliza parted her thighs, silently beseeching him for more. She writhed beneath his caress, lost to the realms of pleasure, feeling a torrid heat build within her at wondrous speed. She was hot, she was shivering, she was aching for more of whatever he might grant, then all too soon, her desire flamed to a crescendo. She seized his shoulders and cried out as the tumult was loosed within her, then left her trembling in its wake.
