She wanted to preen under the words, but she had already shown enough of herself.
“You never thought you would end up here?” she asked.
It was as though the movement away from fear left her more open to feeling than usual, and Hector was determined to fill up every inch of that space with joy. Or maybe it wasn’t just him; maybe it wasthem, together.
“Never,” he said, but he didn’t sound disappointed about where they’d ended up.
And, to her astonishment, she found that she felt the same.
He moved his hands up to her hair, scraping his fingernails against her scalp lightly and winding the strands through his fingers. She shivered and twisted so that she was half atop him; he palmed her arse through her chemise and dragged her the rest of the way.
When she put her hands on his shoulders to steady herself, he was smiling at her, and she realized that she still was, too.
This was the first time they had come together without arguing first, she realized. And it wasn’t less wonderful for it, wasn’t any less heated or wonderful or consuming.
No, it wasmore. It was all those things,andit was comfort. It was companionship. It wasfun.
“Is that all you have to offer me?” she teased, letting her wait settle more heavily upon him. He was, she realized in dismay, completely dressed. His shirt was even tucked into his trousers.
Even with all that clothing, though, she could feel the hardness of him. She bit her lip and held his gaze as she squirmed her hips against him, thrilling as she saw his pupils blow wide.
“Clio,” he said, the word a rumbling, delicious warning. “I warned you. I meant what I said. We arenotconsummating our marriage in your cousin’s house.”
She pouted. He reached forward and nipped her lip, then toppled them backward so that she was lying on her back and he was atop her.
“Spoilsport,” she accused.
“Och,” he chided, sounding phenomenally Northern, indeed. “You won’t be saying the same in a little while, princess.”
She tried to wiggle out from beneath him and was extraordinarily pleased when he pinned her too firmly to allow it.
“Don’t challenge me, Clio,” he said, which, of course, made her determined to do precisely that.
“Or what?” she asked, raising her chin. “Do you know, Your Grace, I am starting to think that you are all talk.”
If she had any further comments to make, they were kissed right out of her mouth as Hector dove back down to consume her mouth anew. His tongue explored hers; he kissed her like he was dying, like she was the only thing standing between him and the end of his days.
She held him just as tight. She let her fingers trail through his hair, tugging roughly, then moving down to the back of his neck. Her thumbs landed behind the groove of his ears, and she focused briefly on the difference in texture between the scarred side and the undamaged one.
She liked feeling them both. They were proof that this was Hector, her Hector—even if, she thought with a pang, he wasn’t trulyhersat all.
But she wanted to feel him now, wanted to feel all the pleasure he could offer her, so she rejected that thought, pushed it away until she couldn’t hear it echoing in her head any longer.
He kissed his way down her neck, leaving each inch with the soft caress of his lips. He paused at the place where her pulse thrummed in her neck and sucked lightly there. Clio should have been horrified over the possibility that he might leave a mark, but something inside her thrilled at the idea instead. She’d packed at least one gown with a high neck, hadn’t she? It was so hard to think or to care at the moment.
“Are you starting to feel better, princess?” he purred into her skin.
“Yes.” The word was a sigh, a puff of air shaped only faintly by vowels and consonants. She felt too lovely to try for more.
“Do you think I could make you feel even better?”
They both knew he could, so why bother asking? She hummed a vague agreement, soaking up the rough pads of calluses on his fingers as he touched her arms, her collarbones. She luxuriated in his warmth like a cat in a sunbeam. She thought she might never feel cold again.
Except then there was a rending sound and the fluttery kiss of cool air on her skin as he took the neck of her chemise in his powerful hands and ripped the fine linen right down the middle.
“Hector!” she gasped, possibly more scandalized by this than she had been by anything else they’d done together.
His eyes gleamed down at her.
