He looked down at her and saw the trepidation in her eyes, the fear that he didn’t desire her in this way, and wanted to cut his own heart out for putting that doubt there.
“No,” he said, trying to keep his voice softer. He tugged at her hand and she moved back to him. “I don’t know how to be what you want me to be.” The admission was honest, at least, he owed her that much. “But if you are thinking that I don’t want you …” He put his free hand to her waist, pulling her close, pressing her body hard against his so that his arousal was blatantly obvious to her. She looked up, eyes dark with wanting, and he captured her mouth, his arms holding her tight, too tight, probably, he realised. He eased his grip a little, pulling back as Crecy clutched at his shoulders.
“You are exactly what I want you to be, Gabriel,” she said, her voice fierce now, any trace of anxiety or timidity suddenly vanishing. “Don’t, I beg you, try to be anything else.”
He took her at her word, too desperate to taste her again to hold back, in any case. By the time he felt able to let her go, she was flushed and breathing hard. The lush swell of her breasts pushed against the confinement of her clothes, and he could not wait any longer. He needed her naked and in his bed, and he needed it right now.
Gabriel put his hands on her shoulders, turning her around so that the ties to her dress were before him. He tugged each one in turn, trying not to rush, not to be impatient, but finding himself cursing under his breath as one caught in a knot. He was all fingers and thumbs, and by the time the dress slithered to the ground, he was breathless with impatience and desire. A strange and not altogether welcome surge of possessiveness swept over him, shocking him rather as she withdrew the lock of his hair from under her bodice and gave it to him to put to one side. The rest of her underclothes were summarily disposed of, no seductive unveiling here, he thought with a grimace, and then he looked at the prize he’d finally managed to unwrap.
Crecy turned back to him, eyes downcast, shivering a little, her arms clutched around herself.
Gabriel caught his breath, feeling himself at one and the same time to be the worst kind of monster and the luckiest man on the planet. He wanted to tell her that. He wanted to explain that he had never seen anything so beautiful as her, that he was humbled, honoured, that he would kneel at her feet if she demanded it, but no words came.
Instead, he reached out a hand, tracing a finger along the soft curve of her cheek as she looked up at him.
“Come here.” His voice was rough and scratchy, so taut with desire it was a wonder he’d managed to say that much, and when she did as he’d asked, any possibility of saying more vanished.
He kissed her, his hands sliding over skin, finer than any silk, warm and soft and giving and … his. It was easier than he’d imagined after all, to treat her with reverence. He wouldn’t hurt her, it was impossible, he could not. His lips brushed over hers, toying a little with her tongue, the movements soft, delicate, as he held back his own desire with a will of iron. How strange, he thought, for he’d never enjoyed kissing before, and avoided it. It had always seemed an unpleasant intimacy, too messy and unrewarding, but no longer. Her mouth was so sweet, so welcoming, and the soft sounds she made as his hands explored and stroked were enough to set him alight.
Gabriel drew back, knowing even his encompassing need for control could not hold back his own desire for much longer. He led her to the bed, taking a moment to strip the covers back before kissing her once more.
“Lay down,” he said, the words breathed against her mouth. This time, at least, the words had been gentle. She did as he asked, lying down on the white cotton as Gabriel shrugged out of his jacket. Usually, everything had to be carefully put away, folded or hung up, but his desire outweighed his need for order in this moment, and he contented himself with hanging his jacket on the back of a chair and throwing each remaining item on top of it.
His mouth grew dry as Crecy sat up, watching him with obvious interest as he undressed. To his surprise, and as something of a boost to his masculine pride, her eyes grew wide and round as a slow smile curved over her lush mouth.
“Oh, my,” she said, looking him over with such obvious desire that Gabriel wondered how the hell he was going to last long enough to make her first time painless. He wasn’t sure he could wait. He wanted only to find his place inside her and claim her as his own, with no provision for tenderness or patience. He needed and he wanted like he’d never known before, had never come close to, and he didn’t think he could hold that back.
Yet as he lay down beside her and was welcomed into her arms, with no hesitation, no reserve or false blushes, he was aware that he still wanted to be tender.
Crecy reached out, touching a tentative hand to his chest. Her fingers trailed through the coarse dark hair, and then she surprised him by pressing her face against his chest, kissing him and rubbing her head against him like a cat. He grinned, the unfamiliar upwards kick of his mouth feeling less strange than usual. Much more of this, and he might even become used to it.
“Gabriel,” she said, the smile behind his name almost visible even before she looked up at him. “You’re so …”
Gabriel quirked one eyebrow, waiting for what on earth the dreadful creature would say next.
“Big.”
A guffaw of laughter caught him unawares, as her wide eyes made him laugh until his shoulders shook.
Crecy flushed, though her eyes sparkled with amusement. “I didn’t mean there,” she scolded him, her voice tart. “I meant …” She waved her hand to encompass the whole package as Gabriel struggled to rearrange his face. “Everywhere else.”
“Oh?” he said, hearing the teasing tone to his own voice and not recognising it at all. “Is that part of the package not up to expectations, then?” he demanded as her cheeks went a quite remarkable shade of scarlet.
“Now, you’re just being crude,” she said, pursing her lips and looking a little indignant.
“Yes,” he murmured, catching hold of her hand. “I am, and I will be. Do you mind?”
“Of course not,” she replied without hesitation, mischief glittering in her eyes.
Gabriel stared, a strange feeling growing and expanding in his chest as he gazed at her. “Just as well,” he said with a smirk as he guided her hand to the part of him that was most desperate for her attention. His breath caught as her fingers wrapped around him and he guided her as to how to touch him.
“Certainly meeting expectations so far,” she murmured, eyes wider still, and Gabriel found himself smiling against her skin. He’d never done this before, never enjoyed a woman’s company for any other reason than the obvious, and it was new and strange, and he didn’t know quite what to expect of her next. He kissed her, deciding that he was safer if he kept her quiet, preferably speechless, as right now his heart felt unguarded and most definitely at risk. He took her hand from his flesh, interrupting her intimate caresses with regret, but it was too distracting, in any case. It made him want to seek his own pleasure instead of seeing to hers, and he was damned if she’d leave his bed with the ability to walk a straight line, let alone string a coherent sentence together.
He kissed a trail down her neck, wondering at her boldness as she tilted her head back, her hands tangling in his hair as he nuzzled the soft valley between her breasts. One hand continued down, smoothing over the soft curves of her waist and hip, caressing her thigh as his mouth captured one delicate, pebbled nipple. Her husky cry sent a jolt of desire through him, his body taut and aching with need as she arched beneath him.
Gabriel dared a glance up, catching her eyes and seeing such emotion there that he was forced to look away. He couldn’t believe in that look, it was too … It was impossible. Wasn’t it?
He returned his attention to the physical; that, at least, he could manage. Though somehow, the physical and emotional had become tangled up and were impossible to keep apart. The harder he tried to hold something of himself back and concentrate on ringing those soft, feminin
e cries from her lips, the harder it became not to realise that he worshipped this strange, wonderful, extraordinary woman.
Sliding one hand between her thighs as he caressed her, he remembered the first time he had done this, with far too much clothing between them. Not a problem now, though, as he slid one finger inside her, hearing her gasp of shock and wondering if he’d gone too fast. Crecy was always ahead of him, though, and merely opened herself to him further as he spiralled out of control.
Urging her legs further apart, he took his place there, he couldn’t do this, couldn’t wait any longer. He wondered then if she would hate him for it, for not taking more care, and began to move away again, but she wrapped her legs around him, pulling him towards her.
“Yes, yes, please, Gabriel. I want you … like this.”
He stared down at her, seeing his own need reflected in hers and wondering at it, but she urged him on, gasping with pleasure as he nudged inside of her.
Her murmured words came faster and less comprehensible as he sank deeper, feeling her hands grasping at his shoulders, holding onto him. He tried to slow, aware that he was about to hurt her, after promising he wouldn’t. Even though every instinct demanded that he sink into her now, this minute, he held himself back, easing into her with care.
“It’s all right,” she said, stroking his back, and he looked down, startled to be the one receiving assurances. “Don’t stop, Gabriel,” she begged. “I want you.”
There was simply no way of denying her, even as her words slid under his skin and he realised just what danger he was in. As he sank into her, soothing her past the sharp intake of breath as he took her innocence, he was welcomed into her warmth. She gave him everything she had with no demands, no ultimatums, and he realised that there would never be another like this. There would never be anyone who made him feel this way, who accepted him and made him feel … whole. He gasped, desire and emotion overwhelming him. Somewhere in the distance, fear was lurking in the darkness, waiting for him, but this was too bright, too dazzling to pay any heed, not now.
For the first time in his life, he felt someone cared for him, cared enough to take a chance, to risk everything. It stole his breath and made his chest hurt, making him more attentive in his loving, wanting to give her everything he could in return for her trust in him. Crecy tugged at his neck, pulling his head down, demanding he kiss her even as her breathing became harsh, her body growing taut.
Words crowded his brain, words that she deserved to hear, but he was too afraid to voice them, and then it was too late. She cried out, her body tightening around him, and Gabriel could think of nothing, consider nothing past his own pleasure, crashing over him like a wave as he shook with the force of it. A harsh, guttural cry ripped from his throat, too late to consider that the servants might have heard them as his body convulsed, spilling himself inside of her.
He collapsed, aware that he was likely crushing her, but was utterly boneless, too sated and exhausted to move an inch. Little by little, however, his breathing steadied, and the first rush of recrimination hit him. Loathing began to wash over him, a filthy tide determined to destroy any pleasure he might have found, and then … Crecy began to laugh.
From somewhere, he found strength enough to prop himself up on his elbows and look down at her, torn between astonishment and indignation.
“What the devil are you laughing at?” he demanded, sounding terse and not in the least lover-like.
Crecy bit her lip, apparently trying to hold her mirth back, but it bubbled over and she chortled, covering her mouth with her hand.
“Well?” he pressed, starting to feel anxiety crawl up his neck.
“Oh, oh,” she gasped, shaking her head as tears rolled down her cheeks. “I … I don’t know, only …”
“Only?”
She hauled in a breath, apparently gaining some control and smiling at him with such joy that he felt like his emotions had been turned inside out and upside down in the space of the last few seconds.
“Only, I was so nervous, and it was so …so … wonderful,” she said, reaching up and touching his face with a sigh. “Oh, Gabriel, I do love you.”
Gabriel froze.
He didn’t know what to do, to say … to …
Crecy’s face fell.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, making him feel like a real bastard now for chasing the happiness from her eyes. “I … I didn’t mean to say that, not yet … not … I know you don’t want to hear it yet,” she added, sounding so contrite that he wanted to rage about it, but he didn’t know why. He didn’t know if he was angry with her or not. Was he angry because she’d said it, or angry because he didn’t believe it, couldn’t believe it. Which meant she was lying, which …
“Gabriel.”
“Gabriel!”
He looked down, startled by sharp the tone of her voice.
“Stop thinking, Gabriel.”
She tugged at his neck, pulling him back for a kiss, and for once, Gabriel did as he was told.
Chapter 18
“Wherein plans are made and too quickly shattered.”
“I should go.”
Gabriel frowned, not liking the idea of Crecy leaving the warmth of his bed one bit.
“No.”
She chuckled, the sound burrowing inside of him somehow, making him feel lighter. They had been here for hours and Gabriel could hardly credit the fact, but he didn’t ever want to move again. He glanced down at her as she turned in the circle of his arms. One hand reached up, her finger tracing the outline of his lips as she sighed.
“I don’t want to, believe me. But they’ll send out a search party if I’m too late.”
Gabriel glowered harder and tightened his hold on her. The idea that he could keep her here if he so chose was like a maggot in his brain. If he married her, she would belong to him. No one could ever take her away. He sucked in a breath as the enormity of that idea hit him. The idea of letting someone else into his life, at working her into the precision of his ordered world, it was terrifying. Crecy wasn’t ordered, she was the closest to chaos he had ever been. There would be forever books and clothes and jewellery and whatever strange thing she had most recently found scattered about his room, about the house. She would be late for meals, she would try and change him, she would probably make him talk to people. The thought made his chest tight, and yet the idea of letting her go back to Longwold alone made him feel strangely hollow; alone in a way he never had before.
It was like being presented with what you wanted and being told it was on the other side of a mountain range that looked nigh on impassable.
Yet he wanted her to stay.
“Thank you for today,” she whispered, her words a soft breath tickling over his skin as her fingers trailed over his chest.
He snorted, feeling bitter all at once. “Well, I did say you’d thank me for ruining you, it looks like I was right.”
Crecy sat up, staring down at him, her face rather stern all at once.
“Stop that, now.”
He glanced up at her, frowning. “What?”
“Stop turning something wonderful into something dark and hurtful. I know you’ll do it the moment I’m gone, that you’re doing it even now.” She sounded really angry, and Gabriel watched her with interest, intrigued in the light of her fury. No one got angry with him, ever. They wouldn’t dare. “I can’t stop how you’ll make this look in your mind, but you hear me now. You didn’t seduce me, you didn’t ruin me, and I didn’t take anything from you that you didn’t want to give, you just remember that. We like each other, we like each other’s company, and that’s all right. It’s allowed. You are allowed to be happy. Everyone is allowed a little happiness, Gabriel, even you.”
He said nothing, too perplexed to know what kind of answer to give. Silence seemed safer.
Crecy shook her head and sighed before turning and clambering off the high bed. He watched as she moved about, gathering her things together. He felt unsettled, uneasy. C
recy brought change, she brought things that he did not want, and yet watching her prepare to leave his house made him want to throw things. It wasn’t her fault she had to go, he reminded himself, the words sharp in his head.
She didn’t look at him, and the idea that she was hurt or angry with him was even worse. It was like ants crawling under his skin, an uncomfortable feeling that made him want to … to say something - to make it better, but … He scowled and got out of bed, snatching up a dressing robe and putting it on with sharp, angry movements. Damnation.
Crecy sat at his dressing table, trying to create some order in the tangle of unruly curls that had fallen about her neck, and Gabriel watched her pin it back into place with regret. He had liked it like that, loose and abandoned, framing her lovely face. Once satisfied, she reached behind her neck with both hands, struggling to do up the fastenings on her dress. Gabriel moved forward, avoiding her gaze in the mirror as he approached.
“Stand up,” he said, not sounding the least bit like a man in need of forgiveness and wanting to bite his tongue off for it.
Crecy did as he asked and he tied each fastening in turn. He finished the last one at her waist and she began to move away, but he stopped her with a hand on her hip. She turned, looking up at him, an expectant look in her eyes.
Gabriel huffed out a breath and hung his head, avoiding that look that demanded something from him.
“I don’t want you to go.” Oh, very eloquent, he muttered inwardly. You don’t sound the least bit like a sulky five-year-old.
He glanced up to see her face had softened, and she smiled at him, and though he knew he didn’t deserve it, the tightness in his chest eased a little. She tugged at the cord holding his robe closed and he moved forward.
“I’ll come back,” she said, her voice so full of certainty that it seemed impossible to doubt her, not now, at least. Not in this moment. “You know that I will come back. You have my heart, Gabriel, like it or not. I can’t very well go on living without it, now, can I?”
To Tame a Savage Heart Page 16