“Whatyouneed,” he said flatly. “What about whatIneed, Lavinia? A wife that doesn’t run off in a huff when she doesn’t get her way.”
“That’s not what I–”
“A wife that’s home at a decent hour, not stumbling in half-foxed at a quarter past midnight.”
“I can’t help what time the–”
“A wife that is not consumed by her frivolous social events!”
“The Grosvenor Square Society for the Betterment of Orphaned Youth and Widowed Women isnotfrivolous!”
“To hell with the Grosvenor Square Society for the Betterment of Orphaned Youth and Widowed Women,” shouted Nicholas. “The name is absurd and the people that run it spend more time congratulating themselves on their piety than they do helping the orphans!”
Lavinia gasped. “You take that back!”
“Or what?” he challenged, his eyes flashing black in the dim glow of the hearth.
“Or…” Her mind went blank. What recourse did she have, truly? “Or…”
“Or this.” Nicholas knocked a chair off its legs in his haste to get to her. Fury rolled off him in a wave, but right underneath of it…right underneath of it was the potent call of desire. He snatched her by the arms, his fingers cold against her skin, but when he kissed her…oh, when he kissed her, she felt nothing but heat.
His tongue swept between her lips, demanding that she open for him, and on a half-growl, half-groan, she softened her jaw and invited him in.
A bold stroke, a playful nip, a soothing caress…kissing Nicholas, being kissedbyNicholas, had always been a delightful exercise in passion. When lust was their only concern, they fit together perfectly. Two pieces of opposing puzzles that clicked into place when turned just the right way.
In his office, he pushed her up against the desk. In the drawing room of Woodridge, with the fire roaring at their backs and snow falling outside the windows, he laid her out on the floor, taking care to arrange a bed of blankets before he stripped her dress away and her undergarments along with it. Once nude, she reclined on her elbows, shamelessly exhibiting every curve, hilltop, and cavern to his hungry gaze.
“Gorgeous,” he rasped, his guttural tone making it sound more like an accusation than a compliment before he stretched out beside her, similarly naked after having divested himself of his clothing, and began to trace a wandering fingertip from her neck to her navel.
She instinctively tensed when he reached the ebony thatch of curls at the apex of her thighs, her stomach muscles fluttering in anticipation. Her body was already aroused, her face already flush, her breasts already heavy, her quim already wet. He kissed her nipples as he slid a finger inside of her. Circled the hard points with his tongue as his wrist worked back and forth, back and forth, coaxing her hips off the blankets on a whimpering sigh when he filled her with a second finger.
Stretching her.
Teasing her.
Tastingher as he went down her body and replaced his hand with his mouth, lapping at the damp, pulsing seam of her womanhood while a cloud of sweet delirium surrounded Lavinia and made the entire room spin on its axis.
She grabbed fistfuls of his hair, yanking tufts of ebony silk by the roots as he continued to pleasure her lick by lick, an act that he hadn’t performed in ages. But if his enthusiasm was any indication, he’d missed as much as she had. More than that, she’d missedthis. The connection they achieved when their bodies were entwined. When their hearts beat in unison and her ecstasy was his own.
She came on a keen cry of release, her slender frame quivering with sheer, overwhelming passion. Lifting her legs and setting her small heels on his broad shoulders, he entered her swiftly, commanding that she take every inch of him.
Her nails raked across his back, her head thrashing side to side as she struggled to accommodate such a bold request, for never let it be said that Nicholas was a man of small proportions. Clamping her knees to his waist, she arched upwards while he thrusted down, and they moaned in unison when he sheathed himself completely.
The fire snapped and hissed, the shadows of orange flames licking across ivory skin as Nicholas made love to Lavinia. He kissed her fiercely, and she tasted her own bitter sweetness on his tongue. When she came again on a burst of indescribable sensation, he followed mere breaths after, and cradled her head in the nook of his shoulder as they both collapsed onto their backs to stare in dazed bliss at the ceiling.
Neither spoke.
Neitherwantedto speak.
When they were here, nothing was broken.
When they were here, nothing had to be fixed, or repaired, or rebuilt.
When they were here, everything was perfect.
…but perfection never lasted for long.
Chapter Six
