She thought of that question for a moment and realized that wasn’t it. “No,” she admitted softly. “I just wish…I wish he had never put me in that situation. I wish he’d never hurt me. I wish he’d never forced my hand. I wish I’d not been so foolish as to marry a monster like that.Thatis what I wish.”
He wiped tears from her cheeks, ones she hadn’t even realized were falling. Tears of grief for herself, grief for the man who should have been a better husband to her, grief for the life she had dreamed of that had been torn away from her. Grief for all that might still come because of what she’d done.
“You told me when I first came back that you blamed me for walking away from you. That you blamed me for breaking your heart and opening you up to Barbridge. WhatIwish, more than anything in this world, is that I had stayed.” He pushed her hair away from her face. “I wish I hadn’t allowed myself to be turned away from you. If I could have spared you this…”
“Allowedyourself to be turned away from me?” she repeated, confused by the phrase. “What do you mean?”
He froze, his eyes widening, like he had said too much. “Felicity…” he whispered.
She cocked her head. There was only one person she could think of who would have interfered in whatever feelings were between them all those years ago.
“Did your…did yourfatherpush you away from me?”
He hesitated for what felt like forever, and then he said, “He found out about the kiss.” It was almost like he was being careful with the words he chose. “And he was angry. He’d had some bad experiences in his past—it was why he always reminded me of my place. He pushed me to take your mother’s offer of an education. He told me it would not be made twice. And he reminded me that you and I…thatcould never be.”
She thought of what Celia had told her earlier. About John not believing he deserved happiness and how it had nearly driven them apart. And she thought of the question her friend had asked her at the time.
Didshewant the future she sometimes saw in Asher’s eyes?
“I’m…afraidof you, Asher,” she admitted softly.
His eyes went wide, filled with apprehension and confusion. “Afraid of me?” he repeated. “Felicity, you know I would never hurt you. Never.”
She smiled. “I’m afraid of me, too. Because…” She drew a deep breath. “Because everything I wanted that night all those years ago when we kissed, everything I hoped we could be…I still want those things. And it terrifies me beyond measure because I already know what it’s like to lose you. To lose a part of myself. I’m not sure I can risk it again.”
He stared down at her, lips parted at her confession. Her hand was pressed to his chest and she felt his heart pounding through his jacket. She lifted the same hand to his neck, drawing him down and kissing him.
It felt like he was fighting the kiss for a moment, fighting where the kiss would lead, but then he let out a low sound of possessive pleasure and his arms came harder around her, his lips moved against hers. She shivered with need and arched against him in silent request for more.
“Felicity,” he grunted, tearing his mouth from hers. “We can’t. We can’t do this.”
“Please,” she whispered as she dragged one hand down his chest, settled it against his lap where she felt the hard evidence that he wanted her even if he would deny them both. “Please just give me this. We both know it’s likely the last time.”
He frowned, but didn’t deny her statement. Nor did he refuse her request. With a ragged moan, he pulled her over him, her skirts bunching between them as she straddled his lap. She drove her fingers into his hair, angling her face to kiss him deeper, harder. Her mind emptied of all fear and peace settled over her as he placed his hands on her hips and tugged her flush against him.
She ground down over him, finding sensation even in this restricted movement. She gasped, breaking the kiss as she writhed, reaching for release, needing it as much as she needed breath or food or water. He held tight to her, watching her as she sought relief before they’d even joined their bodies. And when ripples of release moved through her, he smiled like her pleasure brought him just as much.
Her breath was short as she reached between them, unfastening the placard on his trousers with shaking fingers. He popped free and she practically purred. Touching him was something she never got tired of doing. She watched him as she stroked over him, reveling in the warmth and hardness of his body, so different from her own.
He growled out pleasure, his dark eyes flashing with out of control need as he shoved at her skirts, pushing them over her hips, away from their bodies. She moved over him, guiding him to her slick, still tremoring entrance and sank down, joining them in one long, slow thrust.
She rested her forehead on his with a contented sigh. “Yes, this is what I need.”
The carriage jolted as they turned a corner and his hands tightened on her hips as their bodies rocked together. She smiled at the shocking increase in pleasure and began to roll her hips in time to the rhythm of the horses’ hooves. He lifted into her, his breath growing short, his eyes glazing with focused need. There was no finesse to this joining, but at that moment she didn’t want or need finesse.
She wanted his driving desire. She wanted out-of-control pleasure. She wanted heat and slick need and to make him shatter like he always made her shatter.
She rocked into him, holding tight to his shoulders, keeping her gaze locked with his. His face was taut with need, with satisfaction, and every time she ground down hard against him he caught his breath. And she did this to him. This man who was so strong came undone because ofher.
That was the greatest gift. And the knowledge of it only increased her need, pressed her body right back to the knife edge of release. As if he sensed it, he cupped her head and drew her down, kissing her deeply as he rotated his hips up into hers. She flew off the cliff, soaring to greater heights than ever before, free from thought and judgment, only ruled by pleasure as her body trembled and jolted in release.
He shifted then, turning her gently so she was pressed to the carriage wall. He thrust against her a few more times and then he withdrew, turning away as he came with a relieved growl.
He collapsed against the seat next to her, gathering her close to him as she rested her head against his chest. Neither of them spoke, but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, it was perfect. Like they were in a bubble, cut off from everything else, never having to face the consequences of the past or present, never having to look into the future.
But of course, it didn’t last. He finally sighed. “Our hour is almost up, I fear.”
As if to accentuate that statement, he pushed the curtain aside and looked. “We’re heading back to your brother’s home.”
