He caught her nightgown strap and dragged it down, breaking their kiss at last to trace the path of her gown, tasting her skin like he was a starving man. Her nightgown drooped and he tugged it over her breasts, latching onto her nipple and sucking and swirling his tongue until she was incoherent with pleasure.
He shifted over her, drawing the rest of her nightgown down around her waist between them. He traced the curves of her breasts as he signed, “Beautiful.”
“So are you,” she whispered, trailing her hands down his bare chest, looping her fingers into his trouser waist as she fought to unhook the placard that kept him from being naked with her.
He smiled and pushed from the bed. His gaze never left her as he unfastened the placard, letting his cock come free. She sat partially up, licking her lips, her body tingling with need. But not just need to have him inside of her. There was something deeper there. A desire to reconnect with a person she might have lost that day.
He shoved his trousers away and she beckoned him back to her. He joined her again, but this time lay on his back. She shifted over him as she kicked her nightgown away. She straddled his hips, pressing his cock between her legs without allowing it to penetrate. Then she leaned over him, her hair falling over them as she kissed him deeper, surrendering her everything with just a brush of lips and a murmur of his name.
He cupped the back of her head, gentle as his fingers threaded into her hair. They kissed like that forever, like they had a lifetime even though she knew that lifetime wasn’t promised yet. Perhaps would never be.
She shoved the thought from her mind and worked her body over him, reaching between them to slide the head of him to her entrance. He pulled back with a deep breath as she slowly took him. Inch by inch, moment by moment, deeper and deeper until he was seated fully inside of her and there was nothing between them anymore.
She met his gaze, holding there as she began to slowly ride him. His hands moved up to grip her hips, slid around to cup her backside as she rolled over him in deep, circling waves. Every one awoke a deeper pleasure in her. Every one took her to her brink, then back again. She was in no hurry, not even as the pleasure built and built. Today had shown her that any moment could be the last.
So she intended to savor every single one until he allowed her no more. He lifted beneath her, plunging deeper with each thrust. And he watched her intently, marking every moment of her pleasure and her release like it meant just as much to him as it did to her.
She wanted to tell him she loved him as her orgasm began, she wanted to scream it out in the quiet room and make it a part of what was between them in this beautiful, sacred moment. But she held back, afraid to break the spell, afraid to push him away when she needed him so close.
So she simply moaned out her pleasure, whimpered his name, sighed jumbled, meaningless sounds of utter release as the orgasm went on and on and on.
When she was spent, she collapsed against his chest, her body still clenching, gripping him with the last vestiges of her pleasure. He rolled with her, then, covering her as he cupped the back of her knee and lifted her leg high against his side.
He thrust hard, deep, his neck straining as he stroked through her in perfect time. Her body quaked on, brought back to the heights of release as he took her and edged toward his own. At last he flung his head back, a silent cry as his lips parted.
He withdrew and spent between them, then gathered her close and held her in the gathering dark of her dying fire. Held her against him as she buried her face into his chest and wished, prayed and hoped that she wouldn’t ever have to walk away from this man again.
Knowing that those sweet dreams might never be realized, no matter how much he cared.
Ewan sat up against the headrest of Charlotte’s bed. She was cuddled into his chest and he smoothed his fingers through her silky hair. In the firelight, he could see half her face. The half that was marred by bruises caused by Josiah just hours ago.
His stomach clenched as he relived those awful moments over and over again. He would likely relive them in some form for the rest of his life.
He stirred and she stiffened, lifting her head. “You aren’t going to leave, are you?”
He shook his head and motioned to the candle. It had burned down while they made love, extinguished itself from some draft. He relit it with the flint. As he moved to set the item down, he caught sight of something else on the bedside table. A silver notebook, set on top of a folded piece of tissue.
He reached for it, touching the finely carved surface with his fingertip before he looked in question at Charlotte.
She shifted. “It was a final gift,” she said. “What I went into town to fetch before…”
She trailed off and her gaze darted away. He drew the gift closer and let it sit in his palm. It was a perfect weight. Always easy to find in a pocket, never so heavy that it would make his clothing hang wrong.
He turned it over and smoothed his hand over the flat back of the notebook. “It’s lovely,” he signed to her. “May I open it?”
She sat up partially, propping herself on her elbow to watch him do so. When he opened it, a piece of folded paper fell out on the bed between them.
“What’s this?” he signed as he moved for it.
She was quicker, snatching it away with a blush. “It’s nothing.”
He arched a brow. Charlotte didn’t normally hide things from him. To have her do so after today made his stomach flutter with feelings he did not like. Didn’t want to name.
“What is it?” he repeated slowly, taking care as he signed each word.
She ducked her head. “I imagine it must be what I asked Mr. Griffin to engrave on the back,” she admitted. “Only he didn’t.”
Ewan swallowed hard, then slowly extended his hand. She sighed and passed the paper over. He unfolded it and found just two lines written in Charlotte’s neat, feminine hand:
