Gilles let his lips glide down her neck and chest until he felt the swell of her breasts. He lightly bit the soft flesh.
"Careful." Elise sighed. "Anna found a mark."
"Did she? I must have been out of my mind to have been so careless. I forget everything when I'm touching you."
Gilles' hands glided up her thighs and she parted for him. His mouth found her nipple through the thin silk and he drew her in. He let his teeth graze the hardened peak through the fabric. Elise moaned and his cock throbbed painfully. It was going to be a trying night.
Gilles' hands continued their path, pushing the fabric higher as he drew closer to the apex of her thighs. He used his teeth to pull her nightgown lower and groaned as her breast was bared to his lips. His lips seemed to act on their own, devouring the pebbled peak, suckling a bit too hard, forcing a shriek from Elise.
Gilles forced himself to slow down, gently suckling against her flesh as his thumbs glided upwards, finally encountering damp folds. Elise gasped and bucked against him. He flicked his tongue against her nipple as his thumbs divided her swollen flesh. The musky aroma of her drifted up to him and his mouth watered. Gilles lifted his head and dove for her other breast. He slipped a finger into her and hissed at the scalding tightness of her core. Elise threw her head back and cried out as he penetrated her. Her leg wrapped around his thigh and she tilted upwards, welcoming his probing finger.
He couldn't resist any longer. He released her nipple and sent his lips downwards. Gilles licked the underside of her breast and ran his tongue along the line where rounded flesh met the flatness of her stomach. He followed the flat plane until he dipped into her belly button. Elise whimpered and her hips rose to meet him. He continued until his lips encountered soft, damp curls. Giles inhaled and quested lower until soft, fragile flesh brushed against the tip of his tongue.
Gilles heard a tiny yelp before her fingers pushed though his hair and pressed his face against her. His tongue parted her folds and sought the heated center of her. He found it and entered her. Elise pulled a pillow against her mouth and screamed as he gently rubbed the sensitive knot of flesh just above his lips. Giles withdrew his tongue and replaced his thumb, suckling the tender bud as he filled her with two fingers. She screamed his name into the pillow just before she shattered. He pulled his fingers from her and lapped at her entrance as her release poured from her.
Giles took his time, ignoring Elise's pleas and the hands that tugged at his shoulders. She tasted sweet and slightly tangy. He thought of crisp apples in cool orchards. His lips found her thigh and he nibbled the quivering flesh. She bolted up and reached for him. Gilles raised up, intercepting her lips. Elise clutched at his face, kissing him wildly. Moaning as she tasted her essence on his lips. Her tongue began bathing his lips and chin, seeking out every trace of her juices on him.
Gilles had never been so aroused in his life. His cock pounded against her thigh and his balls throbbed. The need to bury himself within her was so potent he wouldn't have been able to stand if he tried.
Elise settled against the pillows, pulling Gilles with her, on top of her. She kept his lips against hers and slipped her tongue between his. She drew him in and urged him on. She wrapped her legs around his waist and begged. Her hands slid along the glistening planes of his back and found his buttocks. Elise gripped as she writhed against him. Gilles lifted his head and cursed. He was so close. His raging cock brushed against hot, damp curls and twitched urgently. Her mouth brushed against his ear and his name fell like a prayer from her lips.
Gilles slid his hands between the mattress and her silken skin until he found her backside. He tilted her upwards and thrust against her. Her slick, hot flesh clung to the pulsing length of him. He rocked against her and the lips of her womanhood caressed him. The head of his erection brushed against her curls as Gilles ground his hips back and forth. Elise squeezed him with her thighs, pressing her mons against him. He swallowed a groan and pulled from her lips and sought her breast. She arched her back, forcing a nipple against his lips. Gilles wrapped his mouth around her and she clawed at his back. He suckled as his hips thrust instinctively against her, her molten juices bathing his engorged cock. His balls tightened as they bobbed against her bottom.
Gilles was so close but he couldn't yet. Not like this, not until Elise exploded beneath him again. His hand slipped between them, sliding along the wet, flat planes of her belly into the curls covering her womanhood. He sent it lower until it found the sensitive nub of flesh. As he rubbed it, the head of his penis brushed against his fingertips a few times. Gilles switched to the other breast and she clutched at him wildly. He felt Elise's body tense and she sucked in a breath. A second later she began to tremble. Her body jerked wildly beneath him and Gilles covered her mouth with his just as a cry escaped her. Her legs tightened around his waist as her heat washed over his cock. He gasped for breath as he felt the pressure build and then explode from him. His arms wrapped around her as he screamed into her mouth. His seed surged from him and spilled into her curls and onto her stomach. Gilles writhed against her for a moment and then collapsed, falling sideways and pulling Elise against him.
Gilles held her limp body against his as he waited for the pounding in his chest to subside. He gathered a handful of her hair and brought it to his face and inhaled. He'd never been so content. If this is what it was like outside of her body, what would it be like when he was inside of her? An aftershock had him shuddering, he pulled her closer. Elise giggled and rubbed her face against his chest.
"Do you know what you've done to me?" Gilles murmured as he kissed her head.
"Is it anything like what you've done to me?" She replied as she rolled onto her back. Her hand trailed down her stomach. "I'm a mess..."
Gilles apologized as he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He dampened a washcloth and returned to the bed. He wiped Elise clean and kissed her belly. She cradled his head and sighed.
"I'm so drowsy. I should go."
Gilles pressed her to the bed and covered her, burying his head in the corner of her neck. He'd never felt more like he was home.
"If you were my wife, you could stay..."
"If I was your wife, you might be bored with me and in the arms of another."
Gilles lifted his head. If she could, Elise would have seen disbelief and shock in his face. He shook his head and took her lips.
"Do you have any idea just how ridiculous you sound right now?" He whispered against her lips. "Ton corps est mon tresor. Je ne peux pax vivre sans toi." Your body is my treasure. I can't live without you. He rested his head next to hers on the pillow. "There will never be another, Elise." Gilles pushed a lock of hair behind her ear.
"It's been a long day" She wasn't ready to discuss the future or make decisions.
Gilles rolled from the bed, located her robe and picked it up.
"Off with you, then." He stepped closer as she got out of the bed and swung the robe around her shoulders. Elise pushed her arms into it and lifted her face. Kissing her lips quickly, he took her shoulders, turned her and pushed her towards her room.
"Goodnight." He called as she sailed through the door.
Gilles shut it behind her and smiled. Tonight could not have gone any better. He took a few steps towards the bed and launched himself into it.
Chapter 19
"When do you think we can expect His Grace?" Elise asked as Holderson poured her coffee.
Gilles was in the middle of chewing, delaying long enough for Elise to sense the change in Mirabelle. Her body tightened and her posture became more aware. Interesting, thought Elise.
"Three, maybe four days, I think."
"Should I have Anna dress me more formally while he's with us?"
"Not at all!" Mirabelle replied. "He wouldn't want you to dress or behave any differently. In fact, we usually dine rather informally at Spencer House."
"That's a relief! I want to make a good impression but corsets, shoes and tight hair give
s me terrible headaches and drains me. I feel lost when I wear gloves. I'd hate for the duke to think I have poor manners."
Elise tapped her lip for a moment.
"I know that I'm much shorter than you, Mirabelle. And I'm told that you are quite regal and sophisticated, Celine. There may not be much in my wardrobe that would suit the two of you but you are welcome to help yourself to anything you like. Perhaps a few things might be able to be altered for you."
Chair legs scraped as both Celine and Mirabelle stood up. Elise blinked rapidly trying to understand what had just happened.
"I'm dying to see your wardrobe, Elise!" Mirabelle helped her rise as Celine circled around and took her arm.
"Oui! I am most excited as well!"
"I guess we're going there now..." Elise giggled as she was led away.
Gilles chuckled as they left the room.
Chapter 20
The men relaxed in the study, enjoying excellent whiskey and companionable silence. Gilles reclined on the sofa, an arm folded behind his head, his legs crossed on the armrest and a glass resting on his chest. Memories from the night before had him smiling dreamily and sighing now and then.
Alastair sat in an oversized, well stuffed chair. One heel rested on the knee of the other leg. His glass rested in one hand and the fingers of the other strummed silently on the upholstered arm of the chair. He'd been watching his brother for approximately half of an hour and had numerous concerns and questions. From the lackwitted grin and the girlish sounds that would occasionally emit from the vicinity of his throat, he was recalling something pleasurable. There was no doubt some level of sexual intimacy had been reached between he and Lady Elise. It was impossible to miss the attraction that flared between them, he'd sensed it the moment Gilles escorted her into the Blue Parlor. Alastair was pleased with the match.
When Gilles came back from France, he had changed. He was deeply troubled and rarely seemed present. He'd missed his brother and had worried he would never return. After six months of the family's best efforts, Gilles showed no signs of coming around. He'd worried that his brother was escaping to a country estate and might remain as a recluse. Instead, after less than a week, he was smiling, laughing, teasing and acting like a simpleton. He'd skipped down the front steps of Longwood like a boy and Alastair knew instantly that something potent was healing him there. Longwood was part of it. It was calming and comfortable. Chairs like the one he currently sat in were scattered here and there if one needed an upholstered hug to drift off in. Mostly, it was the woman that haunted a few unusual rooms like a romantic ghost. She was soothing his injuries and gave him focus and purpose.
Alastair had very little knowledge of romantic love, no one close to him had yet given him the opportunity to study it. His parents had been a love match but his father had died before he was old enough to notice, let alone analyze them. It didn't seem likely to Alastair that he, himself, would experience a romantic attachment with a woman. He loved his family, including Lucien and his mother but he had long ago concluded that that type of love was based on familiarity and emotional attachment. People outside of his family held very little interest to him and he was rarely able to feel comfortable in their presence. Additionally, people rarely understood him or attempted to remain in his presence.
From what he read about love and was witnessing so far, it did not have much to recommend. The typical obsession and heartbreak found in literary works never appealed. From watching Gilles, it was clear that embarrassing glances, the impulse to touch, lack of focus and unmanly sounds were also symptomatic. Then, there was the protectiveness. It was similar to what one felt towards sisters and mothers but combined with irrationality. Gilles had been concerned that he would pose some sort of competition or threat. The conversation had been a surprise and alarming to Alastair. Had he accidentally signaled interest in Lady Elise? He found her fascinating to study and immensely likable but felt no sexual attraction though he could objectively recognize her beauty. Admittedly, he felt protective of her, much as he did the other women in his life but it was due to her vulnerability and Gilles' attachment to her. He would not want his brother to be hurt if something hurt her. The fact that a woman could create a conflict between them was what alarmed Alastair. Did romantic love trump brotherly love? Did Lady Elise now matter more than his family? He considered the only other example of romantic love he was aware of. Perhaps that was a better place to start.
"Do you think Mirabelle is still in love with Lucien?" He recalled the whiskey in his hand and took a sip as his brother stirred from his daydream.
Gilles blinked rapidly as the ceiling came into view and considered.
"I think she might be. I had thought it a childhood infatuation but after eight seasons and a dozen proposals, I'm worried that she's waiting for him."
"Did her love for him grow from many years of close proximity, or did her feelings change as a result of some occurrence?"
"I couldn't say. You might ask her."
Alastair dismissed the idea. For some reason, the idea made him feel like a cat with it's fur rubbed the wrong way.
"How long can love last if it isn't returned?"
Gilles lifted his head and drank. He sighed as he let it fall back again.
"I don't know. I suppose it could go on forever in some cases."
"Should we do anything about Mirabelle?" Alastair had dreaded the question since seeing her with Lucien at dinner a few nights before.
"There's nothing to do. We can't simply tell her not to love someone. It's Lucien. We all love him. I'm hoping time will resolve this on it's own. The right man could come along and make her forget her feelings for him. Or, he might marry first, forcing her to let him go."
"That would hurt her." Alastair knew his brother felt a similar twisting in his gut at the thought.
"We can't do anything about that. We can't make her fall out of love with Lucien and we can't prevent them from being around each other. I don't doubt that he's been aware of her feelings for years yet he's never let it alter their relationship. Lucien would never do anything to hurt her and if he finds it unavoidable, he'll minimize it as well as he can. You and I will just have to do what we can to support her if he marries first."
Alastair nodded and weighed his next question carefully.
"Love was very sudden for you."
Gilles became very still. Alastair thought he might not have breathed for almost a minute.
"It was like seeing something I'd wanted my whole life, something I started searching for as soon as I could crawl. Only, I hadn't known that I'd been looking. It was terrifying, like falling off a cliff, into the ocean but needing the water because your skin's on fire. I felt utterly lost, yet I knew I'd found my home."
Alastair leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
"That sounds dreadful. Why would you want that?"
"It's terrible. I'm more afraid than I've ever been in my life. If she doesn't accept me, I'll never get over it. I'll love her always and I don't think I can be happy without her. But it's also the most incredible thing that's ever happened to me." He sat up, downed his drink and stood. He reached for Alastair's glass and then headed to the sideboard.
"I don't see how any of that's incredible. You're vulnerable and your future happiness is in her hands."
Gilles handed Alastair his glass and sat in the chair next to his. He slouched down, letting his legs extend and cross at the ankles. He stared at his brother for moments before a wide smile spread across his face.
"I feel like a green lad when I touch her. My hands shake and I sweat. Sometimes, I can't even think." His eyes dashed to the door and back, he leaned forward and whispered. "I've come dangerously close to messing my trousers, I've been so overwhelmed and urgent."
Alastair's face twisted and his eyes grew wide.
"Dear God! Why... How is that good?" His voice was strained and incredulous.
Gilles chuckled and enjoyed his drink for a moment.
&n
bsp; "Because I haven't felt like this since that first kiss in the barn at Winthorpe. It all feels new and exciting. I lost that long ago. After a while, all women seemed the same and everything felt mechanical. Nothing more than a release."
"For the most part, all women are the same and the act itself is mechanical. I always thought the purpose of it was release."
This time Gilles laughed heartily. The statement had been revealing. Perhaps his brother wasn't a monk.
"I'm finding that the right woman makes all the difference."
Alastair shook his head and drank.
"I don't feel the pain when I'm with her." Gilles said softly, almost as if he'd meant it only for himself. Alastair focused as Gilles stared into his glass.
"I didn't think you wanted to discuss France, so I never asked. But we all know you've been hurting. You've changed."
"I... Someone died and I could have prevented it. I can't tell you much more than that."
Alastair looked confused.
"If it was a mission, you can tell me. You should tell me."
Gilles shook his head and grief settled upon his features.
"It wasn't anything you directed and I don't now if telling you would put you in danger."
"Compartmentalizing to prevent the spread of information and exploitable individuals. You think there's someone out there?" Alastair stared off, cataloging information.
"I just don't know enough about what happened, there are too many unknowns to even pull together a loose theory."
Alastair nodded.
"But she helps?"
Gilles smiled again and Alastair could already see the strain and sadness fading from his eyes. He felt grateful that there was something that could ease his brother's pain.
"I don't feel that hole within me, it doesn't eat at me and feel like it's growing, spreading like a cancer. I just feel peaceful and I see a future. Elise helped me realize that this person wouldn't want me to suffer, that I would be forgiven. I haven't forgiven myself but I think I'm half way closer to being whole again. And she brings me joy. When I see her smile, it makes the room brighter. If I make her smile, I feel it inside of me. I want to do things for her. Hell, I want to do everything for her. I want to run to the kitchen and boil the water for her bloody tea! I imagine braiding her hair at night."
Saved By A Siren: Spencers in Love Book One Page 10