The Wedding Game(54)

‘You are not alone anymore.’

She felt a strange shift deep inside as if, with a few words, he had managed to lift the heavy load that had been weighing on her soul.

‘I promised to take care of her,’ he said. ‘And I will do so to the best of my abilities, no matter what happens.’

Her tears were slowing now and she raised the sheet to dry her eyes. She felt him reach into the pocket of his dressing gown to get the handkerchief he was pressing into her hand. Then he shrugged out of the garment and lay naked beside her.

No matter what happens.

The words sounded ominous. If there was a new plan forming, she suspected she would not like it. But she did not want to think about the future as he rolled to cover her body with his. ‘This is wrong.’ She made a last, half-hearted effort to push him away, but he held her fast.

‘It is not prudent. But it is not wrong,’ he said. ‘In fact, it is the only right thing in the world.’

‘You are only telling me what I want to hear,’ she said. And doing what she wanted him to do. Beneath the hem of her nightgown, his bare legs tangled with hers. Warm arms were wrapped around her body and she could feel every muscle. Her cheek rested against the smooth skin of his shoulder. The feel of so much flesh pressed to flesh made her dizzy with desire.

‘Do you want to hear that I love you?’ he said. ‘Because I do. And I never wished to love anyone, ever again, because it hurts.’

He was right. It did. Though her body rejoiced, her still heart ached.

‘Please,’ he said softly. ‘Let me know you, even if it is only for one night.’ The words sounded like goodbye. And if they were, this could be their last chance to be together.

Without another thought, she turned her face to his and kissed him, open mouthed and hungry, letting passion burn the pain away. When they broke, minutes later, they were both panting, eager to be as one.

‘I was lost from the first moment I saw you,’ he said, reaching down her body and stripping away her nightgown to leave her as naked as he was. ‘Those incredible eyes. One look and I was yours. I will never be free of them.’

That was good. She did not want him to be free. She wanted him to be hers. Though they were in darkness, she saw into his heart and was not afraid. His hands were stroking her breasts and she could not keep from moaning at the pressure of his fingers. The eager sound came from an untouched place, deep within her.

He reached between their legs, rubbing her until she was wet for him. His hands on her were rough and hurried, but she did not mind. She ached with wanting him. The punishment of being without him could only be relieved by an equally punishing joining.

She raked her fingers down his sides, scraping her nails down his flanks until she could reach no lower. Then she brought them back up again to the crease at the back of his legs, clutching the tight muscles of his buttocks as they tightened for the first thrust.

And then he was inside her and she would never be alone again. He was hard as stone, stretching her body to the point of pain, but it did not matter. As he pounded into her, she sank her teeth into his shoulder to muffle the cries of desire. She wanted to mark him, to claim him as he was claiming her so that no other woman could have him without knowing that he belonged to someone else.

Perhaps it had been too much. He withdrew suddenly, leaving her empty and longing. Then he grabbed her again, rolling her, arranging her body as if she was a puppet and he her master. He pushed her up on to hands and knees, then grabbed her waist to steady her and took her from behind, like an animal.

He hunched over her and one hand wrapped around to stroke her in time with the short, sharp pumps of his hips. A final touch and she surrendered to him, totally and completely, her overwhelmed senses making her shudder with relief as he surrendered in return.

She collapsed forward on to the bed and he followed her down, on top of her, inside of her, part of her. Then slowly, they rolled to the side, skin to skin, his arms wrapped around her and a leg slung over her hip. Thus, they drifted towards exhausted slumber, nestled together, tight as spoons in a silver drawer.





Chapter Nineteen

Ben lay in bed watching for a change in the darkness of the room. Soon, it would go from pitch black to coal. Then the beginnings of grey would creep in at the edges of the curtains. Before that happened, he would need to be gone. He could not be seen leaving her room when the first servants woke to begin their duties.

It was as good a day as any to destroy a man’s reputation. But the woman involved...the women, he corrected...must remain as near to untouched by scandal as he could manage.

Amy was beginning to stir as well. They had made love once more during the night, slowly, quietly, each knowing that this might be the last time. When they slept again it was side by side. The distance between their bodies was slight, no more than an inch. But to Ben it already felt oceans wide.

He could feel her beside him, pretending that she was still asleep. But her tiny hand rested against his chest with too much weight to do it unconsciously. She was trying to bind him to her not with strength, but with the weight of her longing.

It was an interesting feeling. Women had held him in bed with tears, both of sadness and rage. He’d been seduced, threatened, begged and, on one particularly memorable occasion, restrained by ropes. But he had never felt such hesitant need. It was like a flower trying to hold on to the sun. To know that such a fragile creature depended on him for happiness made him feel strong, invincible to an almost godlike degree.