“Climb onto me.”
She did, and his hands found her body, her curves.
Her core was hot and wet against his belly. Would he have even recognized that if he possessed sight? No, it would have barely registered, because she would have been before him, naked, and his gaze would have been hot, roving over her. But he could feel her. Beneath his hands, on his abdomen. He touched her, let his fingers slip between her slick folds, allowed his ring finger to trace the rim of her core. She felt like silk, and smelled so damn good.
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“Iain,” she panted, and he felt her body tighten, heard the excitement in her voice. “I can’t wait.” He fumbled blindly, trying to help her onto him. He laughed at his clumsiness, which made her laugh, and that seemed to make the moment even more intimate.
Not just lovers, he thought. But friends.
The slide was slow. She didn’t take him all the way in, only halfway, and he reached down between them, stroked the part of his shaft that was not inside her. Her breath caught when she realized what he was doing.
“I wish I could see you do that,” she whispered as she tightened herself around him.
Her body was making the most beautiful undulating movements, which he felt with his hands. In his mind’s eye, he saw her atop him, but he forced that away and concentrated on the senses that Elizabeth had— hearing, taste, smell.
He let her ride him a bit longer, allowed himself to be patient, to feel her sheath tighten and pull, sucking him deep.
“Take all of it, Beth,” he whispered, and he felt the incredibly arousing flush of goose bumps on her flesh.
“All of me inside you.”
This time she managed it, and he had a moment’s pang of regret that he could not see it. Another time… There would be plenty of other nights, other mornings when he would wake her and drag her atop him so he could see her loving him. How beautiful she would look in the daylight, with the sun streaking across her body and breasts. She would look like an angel then, with heaven’s sunbeam making her glow.
“Iain,” she moaned, and she reached for him, tried to find him through the darkness.
“Shh,” he murmured as his fingers brushed her lips.
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He could smell her musk on them, the way it drifted between them. She would taste of it now that he had touched his fingers to her lips, and he captured her and lowered her mouth to his. Licking, he let the dampness left by his fingers linger on her lips before drawing his tongue along them, then sweeping inside.
He had loved the taste of her before. This time it was heightened. He could see her, easily conjure up the image of when he had pleasured her, her thigh over his shoulder, his hand wrapped around her ankle, sliding up her calf as he moved his mouth over her core. She had been so beautiful and wet, and he had been watching every movement of her body, every undulation of her hips, every thrust of her breasts. He had watched from his position between her thighs, and from above, in the mirror, how he had looked with her.
But tonight he could not think of that. Would not allow himself to see her in his mind. He would concentrate only on what Elizabeth knew.
“NO WORDS,” he murmured as his hands smoothed down her shoulders and arms, then came up and cupped her breasts. “I know you use them to see,” he confessed as he pulled at her nipples, and felt them lengthen and fill between his fingers, “but I use them to hide.” She nodded in understanding. How he knew that, he couldn’t tell. Maybe it was the sound of her hair swaying, or the slight movement of her shoulders that gave it away. Whatever it was, he “saw” her, and knew that she understood.
“Don’t be afraid of the quiet, or what you’ll find in it,” he said, whispering it against her. “And I won’t be, either.”
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body, the sculpted muscles, the taut strength, the slippery sheen of sweat as he worked for her pleasure. The cords in his neck were tight and straining, his head tossed back.
Her fingers rose higher and she touched his chin, covered with his night beard, and she shivered in his arms as she remembered how he had left no inch of her body unexplored, untouched by that stubble.
She moved her hands to his lips, to the air that moved rhythmically between them, caressing her fingers. She smelled the spice of Scotch, and the essence of her core—
and it was Iain. Only he could arouse her like this with such base, simple pleasures. And then she traced his lashes through the cloth shielding his eyes, those eyes that were always open, watching…. And something else.
Something wet, trickling over her fingertips.
She brought a finger to her mouth, licked it. Salt. A clean scent. Not male sweat rich with the scent of musk and masculine flesh, but something else. Something purer. Tears.
“Iain?”
He trembled and she could have sworn she heard his tears run down his cheeks and plop onto the pillow.
“My God, Beth. I’ve seen you. I’ve seen you in my heart and in my soul.” And then he stiffened, pressed his fingers into her hips, squeezing. “Can I, Beth? Can I come inside you?”
“Yes,” she murmured, holding him close, feeling his body shudder beneath hers. “And stay forever.” IAIN STIRRED ON THE BED, his arms wrapped tightly around Elizabeth’s waist. Her head was resting against his chest, and he took comfort in her slow, steady breaths against him. His fingers were making idle stroking motions over her back.
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“I became a disciple today,” he whispered in the quiet of the room. He had not bothered to light the lamps when he had carried her to his room after her bath. He’d been content to dress her in his shirt and tuck her into bed, against his body, and lay with her in the dark room. There was something very peaceful in the dark, with Elizabeth.
He could think clearer, hear better…feel, without any barriers in the way.
“Hmm?” she murmured sleepily.
His fingers grazed the stones of the necklace he had bought her. She looked stunning in them. And, as he had guessed, Elizabeth had adored the fact that he had picked them out for her. She had liked his story about how he had imagined her in them, and what wicked things he wanted to do to her while she was wearing them, had even played them out for him—which of course, he had adored. He had thought he’d never have a chance to give them to her, never have her like this, and his feelings turned into a painful admission that he’d been terrified that he had lost her, and in turn had lost himself.
“I begged God that if He would spare you, if He would help me find you, that I would do whatever it took to be a person He could look down upon and take pride in.
Not a sinful creature, but a devout one.” Iain breathed deeply, taking in her fragrance, the feel of her silky hair pressed against his cheek. “I have never tasted fear like I did these past days. I was wrecked, lost in despair, and knew that if you were gone, I would not live. How could I go on after what we shared, knowing that I’d never taste it again? Never have you?”
He gathered her close, forgetting the bruises and abra-sions on her back. “I had a plan, you know. I knew exactly where I would go and what I would do. I’d head back to the estate, find that patch of long grass by the pond BOUND GALLEY EDITION March 23, 2012
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where I took you on my plaid, and I’d end it, hoping that I might find you in my next life, and make a better job of loving you than I had in this one.”
“Iain, don’t talk like this.”
“I could not live without you, Beth. Don’t you know that? Don’t you see?”
He kissed her, capturing her lips, tasting them, feeling her soft hands come up to his cheeks. The kiss was slow and lazy, not meant to inflame, but enrapture. To convey every emotion, thought, feeling that he was so woefully unskilled at expressing.
His hand pressed tighter against her back, drawing her nearer as they ended the kiss. His eyes were closed, and he pictured Elizabeth lying there, her face tilted up to his, her eyes shut as well, and a sweet smile of pleasure curving her mouth.
“Well, I’m alive, Iain, and I’m here, never to go any-where but your arms.”
“It’s where you’ve always belonged, Beth.” ELIZABETH FELT the gentle glide of his fingers traversing her back. She followed the sweeping motions, concentrated on the movement.
The letter I, perhaps. It had been so long since she had seen the letters of the alphabet. But yes, it was an I; his fingertip made a little circle, dotting it. Her breath caught as his hand moved again, his fingers shaping more letters.
I love you.
She saw it in her mind, what he had written on her back, the sweetest of messages she could not only feel but see…could actually see in the recesses of her mind.
“I love you, too,” she gasped through tears. “Oh, how I thought I’d never be able to say the words to you. I love you, Iain Sinclair. Only you. Always only you.” BOUND GALLEY EDITION March 23, 2012
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Pulling her atop him, Iain ran his hands through her hair, tugging it forward so that it cascaded around them like a curtain, so intimate and sweet smelling. She could feel the length of his body beneath hers, feel his strength against her softness, hear his soft breaths becoming deeper, harsher. When his palms cupped her cheeks, his thumbs ran over her lips.
“Let me see your love, Beth. Let me feel it.”
“For the rest of our lives, Iain?” His hands moved over her breasts, cupping and squeezing and coaxing. Then his right hand released her, slid up her chest and rested over her heart.
“Aye, Beth. For the whole of our lives, and whatever other ones God grants us. Share my life with me. The troubles and sorrows, the joys, the moments of silence and darkness. The pleasures of my bed, of our bodies entwined. Love me as my wife.”
Silently weeping, Elizabeth placed her fingertips on her lover’s brow and allowed them to sweep over his fanned lashes, his cheeks, the aristocratic nose. He was so beautiful to her, his features etched onto her fingertips, burned forever in her mind’s eye. He was going to give her beautiful babies, strong sons and gorgeous girls.
And he was going to love her every night until they were old, and then they would lie side by side and just hold each other.
“Beth,” he rasped, taking her hand and kissing her palm. “Marry me.”
“Yes,” she murmured, drawing him close. “Yes, I will.
I’ve always been yours. And you, my mad marquis, have always been mine.”
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They were the most beautiful vows in the world, whispered in her ear and confirmed by his passion. Before she drifted off to sleep in his arms, she felt his fingers roaming gently over her once more. In large letters, starting at the base of her neck and on down her spine, he wrote something that made her grip the pillow and bite her lip.
Not even the kiss he placed on the curve of her bottom gave her the joy, the euphoria of that one word, traced on her skin with his fingertip.
Mine.
“I have loved you, Beth, and only you, for so long. I will love you for eternity, and into the next lifetime, and the next after that. I will always find you, my Veiled Lady, in whatever incarnation you might be, because my soul will know its mate. It will always come home, to reside with you.”
* * * * *
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Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Brethen 03 - Temptation & Twilight Page 38