The two could not be any further apart.
Ariadne and Emily were now sitting under the shade of a tree, and she pulled out a basket, while the kitten clambered on Ariadne’s lap. The two were munching on sandwiches, and in between bites, Emily was chattering away.
He strode to his desk and called for coffee while wondering when, during this social arrangement to save her face, he’d gone and fallen in love with her.
Seated in the soft dark, Cedric sipped his wine while waiting for Ariadne to enter his bedchamber from her nightly bath. He’d put Emily to bed a while ago and returned to study to put a few fine-tuning on the deed of trust before heading to his own bath.
Now, reclining in a chair before the fire, he kept his eyes fixed on the door, a low thrum of desire surging through his blood.
The door opened, and with the steam billowing behind her and the low golden scones light filtering through the wisps of the ephemera, she looked like a nymph rising from the water.
Her hair was piled up on top of her head, her skin a warm, flushed pink, and while her robe was untied, the firm, rounded tops of her breasts quivered over her blush-pink nightgown.
In his mind, he saw those firm globs bobbing rhythmically with each ferocious thrust he would give her. He felt his control slipping as he imagined the supple nymph under him, pleading for more pleasure as he took her apart little by little.
“Cedric,” she smiled. “Oh, good, what would you like for sup?—”
He was up from his chair and in moments swept her up in his arms without saying a word. She just managed to fling her arms around his neck in surprise as he crossed the room and let her down on the bed. He kept her upright as his lips claimed hers.
His kiss roiled with hunger, and after a shocked moment, she kissed him back with equal ferocity. She did not hide her passion for him— and the freedom of knowing she was not repulsed by him was intoxicating.
He slid his hand around her neck to suckle on her earlobe, feeling her body start to shiver, and soft puffs of breath left her lips.
She pulled away and gazed up at him with large, luminous eyes. “Cedric… what is this?”
“It’s time,” his lips glided along her jaw and down her neck, his skillful hands peeling off her layers. “I want to make love to you tonight. I want to fully make you my wife.”
He heard her swift breath intake, but she did not push him away—instead, she tugged him closer for another kiss. When her silky nightgown floated to the floor, leaving her in nothing but stockings and garters, she seemed to shy away.
Feeling exposed, her hands clapped over herself, shielding her modesty. He caught her chin and held her to his gaze. “Don’t hide your loveliness. You never have to hide anything from me.”
Those words seemed to shift something inside her as she stopped shielding herself and began to tug at the lapels of his dressing gown.
“Neither do you,” she said.
Her fingers rested lightly against his—warm, rough, unmistakably present. As she stripped him of the cloth, he flexed his shoulders to let the garment slide to the ground.
He stood still as he let her lead from there; if her nerve left her and she wanted to run, he would let her. But as he braced himself for rejection, he felt her hand lift to his face, and herfingertips flitter over the rough, puckered skin of his face, then slip down his neck and over his shoulder.
Cedric felt as if his feet were nailed to the floor as she began to trace over the uneven ridges of scarred skin on his arm and down his side. At any moment, he expected her to move. She did not.
“Ariadne.”
She looked up. His eyes were very dark in the firelight—dark and intent and fixed on her face with an expression that made his breath stall in his chest.
How she could touch those unsightly things and not recoil was a beautiful mystery to him, strengthening the bond that he had been trying so hard to sever.
My wife… This angel is my wife.
He gasped against her lips as he felt her hands wander over his old scars, unafraid and curious, like she was trying to map each one by memory instead of sight.
His breath left his chest at the soft touch, something he had not felt for nearly ten years. The soft pleasure punched through his heart with a force he had not expected.
His arm slipped around her waist, pulling her closer as their kiss deepened. The air around them shifted, thickening withunspoken desires until he could barely breathe with the power of his need for her.
“Have you felt your fill, little nymph?” he asked thickly.
“Little nymph?” she asked.
