“I was! I was willing, Nathanial.”
“Then why did you notsay?” His voice was a trifle unsteady, and that, more than anything else, snapped Theo’s resolve. She threw the covers back and went to stand before him, looking up into his face.
So close, as they had been so many times since her illness. Yet this was different, the air charged, awarenessskittering down her skin, plunging her deeper into whatever this feeling between them was.
“Because I thought you would not want me if you knew it was me,” she whispered.
Nathanial went still. His eyes were wide, tracing across her face, and his breathing shattered. He brushed the back of his knuckle across her cheek, the gentleness of the gesture at odds with the hard press of his mouth. A mouth she knew could be soft. “How could you think I did not recognise you?” he asked, those knuckles now trailing down the column of her neck. “How did you think for even one moment that I did not know you were there, dancing with Montague?”
Theo’s mouth was dry. All she could do was stare up at Nathanial. All this time, he hadknown? She felt as though the ground had opened beneath her; that could be the only explanation for the swooping feeling in her stomach as though she was falling.
All along, he had known it was her. Not some nameless lady.Her.Theo.
“The only reason I took you into the garden that night was because it was you, love,” he said, and her chest cracked. Tears welled in her eyes and she tried desperately to blink them away. He cupped her cheeks, thumbs smoothing under her eyes, swiping away the moisture. “We said we would not be as man and wife, but I do not think there has been a day since we married that I have not wanted you.”
She sniffed, an unromantic sound that Nathanial did not seem to mind. The sharp edge of anger vanished from him, and he tipped her chin up as he pressed his lips against hers. Their last kiss had been illicit, forbidden, and he had been furious and wanting. Now, he kissed her like a discovery. Sweetly, so sweetly it made her chest expand with light and warmth so vast she couldn’tsee the end of it.
This was what she had been craving for so long. Nathanial’s lips moving against hers, his fingers knotting in her hair, his breath heavy.
Nathanial, Nathanial, Nathanial.
Yet it wasn’t enough. This still wasn’t enough.
It was greediness, this desire to have more of him, to take and take until there was nothing left he could give; but she would be guilty of every vice if she could just have him.
The sense of inevitability and falling made her head spin. It made her giddy, and when he turned his attention from her mouth to her neck, she let her head hang back and gave a breathless laugh.
His hand flattened against her back and drew her even closer, until her body pressed flush with his. “Am I amusing?” he enquired, nipping her neck. Her laughter disappeared in a gasp. Heat leeched through the thin material of her nightdress, and she was abruptly aware of how little she was wearing. Her breasts, oddly sensitive, brushed against his chest, and the simple friction set light to the ember of want in her belly.
This was better than last time. Before, it had been new and daring, and the proprietary anger of his touch had been thrilling, but she hadn’t been able to give herself to the moment fully. She had been terribly, awfully aware that he had not known it was her. Now, there was nothing in her mind but him and the feel of his hands on her.
Allof her.
His fingers combed through her hair and the palm of his hand followed the curve of her hips to squeeze her backside. Heat pooled between her legs and she ached for him. All she wanted, more than anything, was for him to touch her there the way he had before.
Nathanial guided her backwards, until her thighs hit the bed and she toppled over. He followed, his movements a little more controlled, and delicious weight pressed her into the bed.
“Theo,” he murmured, his thumb stroking distractingly across her cheek. “Theodosia. Is this all right?”
Thiswas entirely better than all right. Scared to give voice to the rising, swelling emotion in her chest, she caught his face between her hands and kissed him again. Her mouth was inexperienced and clumsy, but he groaned in response, pressing her more firmly into the bed. His body fitted perfectly against hers, hollows and dips equally matching, their lines drawn together.
And Theo allowed herself to be lost in Nathanial, even as emotion swept through her, so raw and great that tears pricked her eyes. Her chest felt full, brimming with joy and aching hurt in equal measure.
She loved him.
The revelation was too big for her to contain, so she clung to him, letting him be her anchor. Tomorrow, she would think about what this meant.
Tonight, there was only Nathanial.
His hand finally reached the juncture of her thighs, and he paused there, tracing small circles over the material of her nightgown. And Theo knew she would not be able to bear it if he stopped now.
“Please,” she begged, arching her back and opening her legs.
“Impatient,” he murmured, nipping her neck again. One hand cupped her breasts while the other continued its journey down her leg. Finally, he drew up the material of her nightgown and traced up her inner thigh. “Here?” he asked.
“What?”
“Is this where you want me to touch you?” He kissed her again. “Focus, love.”
