“Will you stay with me tonight?” he asked. “Just be with me.”
Her gaze lifted and found his. Of course it would. Giving her body to him had become a way that was comfortable to her. She understood it, felt she could control it. And if that was the only way she would pour out whatever feelings she had for him, the only way she would accept the ones that burned in him for her…well, he’d take it.
“Yes,” she whispered, and stood. She leaned across the table and cupped his cheek, her fingers so soft against the rough stubble there. She bent in and kissed him.
He couldn’t hold back the groan that shuddered from his lips at that touch. How had he resisted it for so long? Now he craved this woman like he craved the food at that rough table. He wanted her like his lungs wanted air.
Even as he continued to kiss her, he stood, tugging her around the table, up against his chest. Her arms wound around him, she flattened her body to his and they stood there together for what felt like an eternity just kissing.
At last, though, she pulled away a fraction. She looked up into his face, almost in wonder, like she was seeing him for the first time. Her breath was shallow as she murmured, “Let’s go to your room.”
He nodded and clasped her hand, tangling his fingers in hers as he led her from the kitchen, back up the narrow staircase and into the room she had prepared for them. The fire she had laid had warmed it and he smiled as he tugged her into the chamber and shut the door.
She pressed her back to it and he caged her in with his hands on either side of her head. She lifted her chin, offering her mouth to him, but he didn’t take it. He just looked at her, this slip of a woman who had tangled herself so fully in every part of him. His Janie.
“You are so beautiful,” he said.
She opened her eyes and looked up at him. “So are you.”
He laughed. “You keep saying that. I almost think you believe it.”
“I do believe it,” she said. “Because it’s true. The most beautiful man I’ve ever known.” She lifted her hands to his cravat and began to untie it.
He shuddered, both at the touch and also at the words. She might not say she loved him, but he knew she did. That didn’t mean she would allow them to be together once this situation with her sister was resolved. But she loved him.
She unwound the cravat and tugged it away. She held it up, pulling it taut between her hands. He smiled as he thought of the night she’d bound his hands so he wouldn’t be allowed to take over. When she tossed the scrap of fabric aside, it was an act of trust. To have earned that from a woman who was more likely to be suspicious was powerful.
“Will you take off the rest, please?” she asked.
“So polite,” he chuckled, and pushed off the door to back up a step. He was quick as he removed his waistcoat, his shirt. He had expected her to undress, as well, but she remained pressed to the door, just watching him unwrap himself. So he slowed down, let her anticipate as he unfastened his trousers and slowly parted them.
She licked her lips and he was almost undone without even touching her.
“Fuck me, Jane,” he grunted.
“That’s the idea,” she whispered back.
It was all playful and wicked, but when she finally stepped forward and extended a hand to touch his bare chest, dragging her fingers up, sliding them along his jawline and finally into his hair, she was gentle. She pulled him down to her, brushing her lips back and forth across his like it was the first time.
He whispered her name against her mouth and pushed his hands into the silky mass of her hair. She shivered and pressed her fingers into his back, nails lightly raking the skin and creating ricochets of sensation through every nerve ending in his body.
He wanted to say that he loved her again, but instead he moved his mouth to her throat. He traced the words there, showing her instead of telling her. Wanting her to feel it in the way they connected physically. Perhaps that was all she would accept for now. All she would understand.
And so they moved together, slower now, gentle. He found the buttons along the front of her gown and unfastened them without moving his lips from her throat. She whimpered her pleasure as he parted the dress and slid his fingers inside, along the lacy edge of her chemise.
“Please,” she murmured against his mouth.
He lifted his gaze to hers, holding there as he peeled the dress away and left it in a pile at her feet. He did the same with her chemise and reveled in the fact that they were naked together. Every time it happened, it was like magic. Tonight he wanted to savor it and her. They’d both earned that after all the pain. And it would sustain him, and he hoped her, through whatever was to come.
“I don’t want to hurry,” he said. “I have all night for this, Jane. So you’re not going to rush me.”
A little light of defiance came into her eyes. “I could.”
“You could,” he agreed. “But I’m asking you not to.”
Her lips parted and then she softened. “I won’t.”
Once again, that confession of love returned to his lips. Now that he’d said it, he wanted to keep saying it. As if she sensed that, she stepped closer. She lifted up on her tiptoes and kissed him, drowning out the words and the thoughts and leaving only her and the way her body felt when it brushed his.
