A Passion for Pleasure(54)
Clara was right that he now had a choice to see his mother again. The idea that he had another choice felt good, even if he had no plans to take a step in her direction.
The tiger folded back onto its haunches. Sebastian set the machine aside and moved to where Clara stood. He put his left hand on her warm nape, rubbing the tight muscles. A sigh escaped her as she tilted her head to the side to encourage the manipulation of his fingers.
He stepped closer, inhaling her scent of oranges and spice. The muscles of her neck became pliable, softening under his touch and easing a soft groan from her throat.
Sebastian pressed his mouth to her temple, right beside the birthmark at the corner of her eyebrow. The pulse there, quick as a sparrow’s heartbeat, strummed against his lips. Warmth unfurled in his blood along with something else, something more, that rich, sea-blue satisfaction of knowing, even before their vows, that Clara was his. And that, even if she didn’t yet realize it, he belonged to her.
The idea of belonging to a woman would have wrung a laugh from him a year ago. He’d never have allowed anyone to weave into his soul the way Clara had, never have gone to any lengths to help her, never have admitted she could fell him with a harsh word.
But now he had. And he would. And God knew she could.
She shifted, stretching her body upward to press her cool cheek against his. She murmured something against his stubbled jaw, then turned her face and sought his mouth with hers. He slipped his hand to her shoulders, his fingers kneading the tension still lacing her supple muscles, and yielded to the sensations washing over him.
Clara wound her arms around his waist, splaying her hands over his lower back as she angled her head to allow him to deepen the kiss. Her body softened against his. Heat arced into his groin as her breasts pressed into his chest and her tongue danced with his.
Sebastian curled his right hand into her side, crushing the fabric of her skirts and petticoats. He stepped forward and guided her back against the wall, then pushed his hips against her. The hard ridge of his cock nudged her skirts, an ache already building at the base of his spine. He wanted her naked, wanted to rub his stiff flesh against her bare thighs, wanted her cool hands sliding over his skin…
Clara gasped, her mouth breaking from his with a rush of hot breath. She tucked her face against his shoulder, her body rippling with a moan before she slid her hand down to curve with tentative curiosity around his erection.
Sebastian winced, bracing one hand on the wall behind her as the warmth of her hand burned clear through his trousers. His breath stirred the loose tendrils of hair at her temple. He struggled against the urgent need to thrust against her grip, to allow her to wind the tension to breaking point and then let go.
He placed his hand on the curve where her shoulder met the upward sweep of her neck. She eased her head back, her eyes dark purple with arousal.
“Two days,” he whispered.
A shudder rocked her. “Two days.”
He forced himself to step away. Just in time, as well, since Granville reentered the room and announced that Mrs. Marshall had a late breakfast prepared for them.
As Sebastian and Clara followed him from the studio, her gaze met his. Heat still glimmered in the depths of her eyes, and her flushed lips curved with the promise of a shared secret.
A foreign sensation curled into Sebastian’s heart, skeins of color woven into a smooth, endless braid. He sat with Clara and Granville at a wooden table in the morning room, the air scented with fresh-baked bread, while they ate muffins and drank coffee…and he surrendered to the feeling as it spread through his blood, into his soul, and warmed every part of his being.
Chapter Ten
Flowers bloomed from vases around the drawing room of the Mount Street town house. The morning sun lanced through the curtains, glinting off the rose tucked into the lapel of Sebastian’s dark blue morning coat. Clara kept her attention on the flower as the minister blessed their union, his voice deep and solemn.
“Be pleased, O Lord, to regard in much mercy and goodness the parties now before Thee…”
Clara lifted her eyes to find Sebastian watching her. Her heart thumped. A slight smile curved his mouth, the reassuring promise that they had both chosen wisely and well.
“You will please take each other by the right hand,” the minister requested.
Clara, her gaze locked to Sebastian’s, reached for his right hand. She expected him to hesitate for fear that his muscles would falter, but his long fingers closed around hers without wavering. Relief spilled through her, her own anxiety eased by the warmth brewing in his dark eyes and his absolute lack of uncertainty.