He hated the effect she had on him, the damnable attraction that seemed to pull him toward her against his will. When he was with her, even near her, he seemed to lose control of his emotions, of his common sense. It was a physical desire, but it was something more too. It was maddening and a little frightening. He didn’t want to feel that way about her. He didn’t want to feel that way about any woman ever again.
He sat quietly for several long minutes, lost in thought, listening only to the sound of fire popping and crackling in the hearth, until a faint noise shifted his gaze toward the library door. For a moment he sat mesmerized, watching as the door slowly opened and Ashleigh, as though conjured by his inner musings, stepped inside, softly shutting the door behind her. She wore a thin, ivory-colored silk wrapper that clung to her body like a second skin. His eyes drank in every glorious detail.
As Ashleigh turned from the door, she noticed the fire burning low in the hearth and sensed she wasn't alone. Her eyes quickly scanned the room until they came to rest upon Nicholas, casually sprawled upon a sofa in a shadowed corner of the room. What is he doing here, she wondered? He was supposed to be in London. She took a small step backward as he sat up and then rose from the sofa, pinning her with his steady gaze.
“Wait,” he said, when it looked as if she might turn and bolt. Slowly Nicholas approached her, his bare feet silent as they moved across the floor. Like a rabbit caught in a snare, she stood transfixed, silently watching as he advanced.
His shirt, pulled free of his trousers was unbuttoned nearly to his waist, revealing a hint of his muscular chest and taut abdomen. Without conscious thought her eyes moved downward along the open vee, and then snapped back up as he drew near. Her cheeks flamed scarlet. Completely flustered, she sought to make a hasty retreat. “I'm s-sorry,” she stammered. “I c-couldn't sleep, so I thought I might…read for a while. I didn't know that you were here. I swear.”
He stopped directly in front of her. She blinked twice and he watched in fascination as her long dark lashes fluttered against the tops of her cheeks. Distracted, he tried to focus, to remember what he’d wanted to say. An apology, yes that was it. “I came to apologize, for the things I said in London. Things I didn’t mean,” he said quietly, his speech slightly slurred from the amount of brandy he had consumed. “But you had already gone to your room for the night.”
“You came to apologize?” Ashleigh’s eyes widened, her voice revealing her surprise.
“I don’t expect you to forgive me. In fact, you have every right to despise me. I would hardly blame you.”
She stood mesmerized by his soft tone and the sudden tenderness she saw in his gaze. “I do not despise you,” she replied honestly.
He gazed into her wide emerald eyes, the alcohol clouding his thoughts and loosening his tongue. “You were right about me you know, as much as I wish it wasn’t so, I am far more interested in you than I ought to be.” Slowly, he reached out and grasped a strand of hair that had fallen forward over her shoulder, rubbing it gently between his fingers.
Ashleigh caught her breath as his hand brushed lightly against her breast. His movements were relaxed; his manner of speech slightly off, his eyes the tiniest bit unfocused. “Have you…been drinking?”
“Indeed I have.” He smiled slightly, a sardonic tilt to his lips. “I confess, I have been trying to drink you out of my thoughts,” he said, his voice a husky whisper as he continued to toy with her hair. “What is it about you?” he asked, more to himself than to her.
He was so close. She had only to lift her hand and push aside his shirt to touch the bare skin of his chest. She hesitated. They had started down this path before, with decidedly unpleasant results. “I think I should go.”
“You’re probably right.” Despite his words, he kept hold of her hair, deliberately twining it around his finger, his gaze unwavering. “Do you want to go?”
Her head was spinning, she couldn’t think straight. No, she most certainly didn’t want to go. But did she dare stay? Just yesterday she had convinced herself that she was over him, that she had to move on. But now? With her last remaining bit of rationality, she turned the question on him. “Do you want me to go?”
“God no,” he breathed. All thoughts of returning to London with a clear conscience went skittering from his mind, replaced by an intense, overwhelming yearning he could no longer deny.
She felt his breath, hot against the pulse of her neck as he dipped his head, inhaling the fragrance of her hair. With a tiny whimper, she tilted her head, giving him complete access to her sensitive flesh, shivering as his lips traced the line of her throat, obliterating any further rational thought from her mind. When eventually he lifted his head, their eyes met, hers wide with shock and anticipation, his blazing with passionate intensity. She forgot to breathe. His lips descended upon hers then, hard, hot and demanding, his tongue seeking entrance to the warm recesses of her mouth as he pulled her against him.
He tasted of liquor and something thoroughly and unmistakably male. Their tongues mated in fierce abandon as Ashleigh strained against him, her ardor natural and innocent. She wrapped her arms around his neck, running her fingers through the rich silkiness of his hair, tangling them in the soft curls that brushed the top of his shirt collar. Please, please don't stop, she pleaded silently.
Suddenly Nicholas swept her up into his arms, lifting her off her feet in one lithe movement. He carried her to the soft leather sofa, pushing her onto her back, all the while raining hungry kisses along her face and neck. “Tell me no,” he demanded in a hoarse whisper.
“I can’t,” she breathed.
While the last remaining bit of his sanity told him to stop before it was too late, he simply couldn’t. Closing his mind to the utter recklessness of his actions, he gave in to the overpowering desire coursing through his veins.
As Nicholas slowly pushed the silk wrapper from her shoulder, Ashleigh was powerless to stop him.
“God you taste sweet,” he murmured against the gentle curve of her throat, gently nipping the delicate skin, then soothing it with the tip of his tongue.
She arched against him, her hands sliding inside his shirt, eager to explore the naked planes of his chest. She pushed the fabric aside, wanting to see and to feel all of him.
Realizing her intent, Nicholas lifted himself up and shrugged out of his shirt. With her eyes riveted on his exposed upper body, he reached for the sash at her waist. Untying it, he parted her wrapper and deftly pulled her arms from the sleeves so that only the delicate silk and lace of her nightdress shielded her from his hungry gaze. Sliding his finger under the thin straps, he pulled them downward, exposing her breasts to his hungry gaze.
Ashleigh caught her breath as her naked flesh was exposed to the cool night air. Her nipples peaked and she blushed slightly under Nicholas’ intent regard.
“You are so beautiful,” he murmured reassuringly, sensing her sudden unease. Reaching out, he placed his hand lightly on her breast, letting the plump flesh fill his large palm. Gently, he explored the soft mound, his fingers massaging the pliant flesh, his thumb softly stroking her nipple until it grew taut and hard.
Ashleigh couldn’t contain a small moan of pleasure as he leaned forward, his warm lips closing over the delicate pink tip, slowly drawing it into his mouth as his fingers leisurely moved to her other breast. She arched against his mouth, her hands sliding along his sculpted ribcage to his back, her fingernails making small indentations in his skin as she reveled in the deliciously erotic sensation. She was only vaguely conscious of his hand moving slowly downward toward her waist, and then skimming along the length of her thigh.
Continuing to lavish her breast with his mouth, Nicholas slowly inched her gown upward along her legs, his hand moving closer and closer to the silken juncture between her thighs.
Ashleigh tensed slightly when she felt his hand brush against her naked thigh, but she didn’t try to stop him as he gradually coaxed her legs apart. A moment later, his hand reache
d the most private part of her, his open palm softly brushing against her pelvis, and then she gasped as his fingers delved determinedly into her feminine curls.
Dragging his mouth from her breast, he returned his lips to hers, murmuring soft comforting words between kisses as his fingers slid back and forth against her damp cleft. When she grew slick and wet, he gently slipped a finger into her tight passage, rhythmically moving it forward and back until she began to writhe beneath his touch.
His intimate exploration sent unfamiliar sensations racing along her nerve endings, causing her hips to move involuntarily against his hand. With her eyes tightly closed, she focused all of her attention on the pleasurable movement of his fingers. She’d never imagined anything could feel so good.
His finger continued its steady motion as his thumb pressed against her sensitive nub, stroking and caressing until he felt her begin to contract and tighten. Withdrawing his hand, he reached for the buttons on his trousers.
Ashleigh's eyes, glazed with desire, opened as he rose from the couch to remove his pants. She stared in fascination and awe, mesmerized as his rigid manhood was revealed to her gaze. It was long and thick, and as she watched it throbbed as if it had a life of its own. Enthralled, she reached out and slowly ran a finger down its satiny length, somewhat shocked by her own daring. Nicholas’ sharply indrawn breath revealed that she too had the power to give pleasure, and it was a heady feeling. As he gazed down at her from above, she slowly wrapped her fingers around his pulsing shaft.
Though pleased by her daring, her innocent touch was almost more than he could bear. Gently pulling her forward, he reached for her gown. Releasing her delicate hold on his throbbing erection, she raised her arms, allowing him to slip the garment over her head. It landed on the floor in a pool of ivory silk next to his discarded trousers. She fell back against the sofa, gloriously naked and completely exposed to his admiring gaze.
“Perfect,” he murmured, then skillfully lowered his body onto the sofa next to hers. Once again, he parted her thighs, watching her face as he slid a finger, and then a second into her body, stretching her, preparing her for the entry of his sizeable erection. When she was slick and wet, he positioned himself above her, nudging her thighs even wider with his knees. Easing himself between her splayed limbs, he pressed the tip of his cock against her delicate folds and then gently pushed forward.
At once, he discovered the fragile barrier of her virginity. He felt an intense moment of satisfaction, knowing that he was the first man to touch her. “Are you sure?” he asked with his last remaining ounce of willpower, noting Ashleigh's sudden stillness beneath him.
She nodded eagerly. “Don't stop, please don't stop,” she breathed.
That was all the encouragement he needed. Her flesh was moist and hot as he gradually eased deeper, stretching her little by little to accommodate his size.
Ashleigh felt a tremor pass through his body and realized the incredible amount of control he was exerting over himself in order to minimize her pain.
He entered her by degrees, slowly filling her and then ultimately breaching her maidenhead with one powerful thrust. He held her close, pressing his lips against hers as she tensed, her body responding automatically to the unfamiliar invasion.
Ashleigh felt only the slightest discomfort as Nicholas fully embedded himself within her, her arms tightening almost imperceptibly around his shoulders as the negligible pain peaked and then quickly faded.
“It won't hurt anymore,” he whispered, his breath lightly caressing the petal soft skin of her cheek.
“I know,” she replied, her voice soft and breathy. The pain was already forgotten.
Nicholas held himself still until he felt her muscles slowly relax. She was so wonderfully tight and hot around his shaft. She felt magnificent, so luscious and velvety soft, her legs spread wide to accommodate him. Gradually he began to move, sliding gently forward and then slowly withdrawing.
Ashleigh reveled in the feel of Nicholas’ manhood buried deep within her body, and when he withdrew, she couldn’t contain a faint whimper of protest. She was instantly appeased as he settled into a leisurely rhythm. There was no pain now, only intense, rapidly escalating pleasure as her body adjusted to and then eagerly welcomed the delicious friction. She moaned in joyous rapture, drawing him even closer as he thrust into her over and over, at times withdrawing almost completely and then plunging forward so deeply she wanted to cry out from the pleasure of it. Ablaze with need, trembling on the brink of something so intense she felt she might shatter, she gave herself completely to the man of her dreams, the man she loved with all of her heart.
Nicholas, accustomed to the sexual talents of experienced women and skilled courtesans, was amazed at Ashleigh’s fervent response. She clung to him, meeting him thrust for thrust, intensifying his own fierce need. With his back arched and his eyes closed; he drove into her, mindless, out of control, heedless of the sheer power and force of his penetration. Like a man possessed, he drove them to the dizzying heights of ecstasy.
Ashleigh felt as if she was reaching for something, something unknown, but something she knew she desperately wanted. Then suddenly she tensed, the moist recess of her body clenching and tightening, contracting forcefully around the hot, pulsing shaft that impaled her.
As Nicholas felt her climax begin, he met it with his own, his seed rushing into her velvety depths in an explosive burst he couldn’t control. He collapsed on top of her, burying his face in the curve of her neck, careful not to crush her with his weight. For several moments afterward, they lay unmoving, their breathing labored as each of them savored the last fading ripples of their staggering release.
Gradually Nicholas' breathing returned to normal as he slowly emerged from his sensual haze. His mind, previously numbed by alcohol and desire, slowly began to clear as the knowledge of what had just transpired came crashing down upon him in full force. He felt Ashleigh stir beneath him and pushed himself onto his elbow so that he could see her face. Her eyes were closed, her head turned to the side. Their bodies were still joined. “Ashleigh, look at me,” he commanded softly.
She’d felt the sudden tension in his body. “I don’t want to,” she whispered, afraid if she opened her eyes she would once again see that dreaded remoteness in his eyes.
“Please.” The gentle pressure of his hand accompanied his quiet entreaty as he grasped her chin, turning her face toward his.
She opened her eyes and met his steady gaze.
“Are you alright?”
She nodded, uneasy under the sudden intensity of regard. Despite his tender concern, his gaze was troubled. She noted the faint look of regret in his expression, and her heart sank. “Are you angry?” she asked hesitantly.
“Only with myself,” he told her honestly. “I’m sorry Ashleigh, I did not intend for this to happen.”
As Nicholas slowly levered himself off her naked, sweat-sheened body, at last withdrawing from her delicate sheath, she sensed his emotional withdrawal as well.
Sitting up, her eyes followed him as he stood. His body was so different from hers, his back and thighs muscular and well defined, his buttocks taut and firm. Revealed in the dim light of the smoldering fire, his nude body was magnificent. Watching as he reached for his trousers, she suddenly became very much aware of her own nakedness. As Nicholas slipped into his pants, she groped for her wrapper, slipping her arms into it just as he turned toward her. Bare-chested, pants undone, his hair tousled, he looked blatantly sinful, and far too gorgeous to be believed.
Watching as Ashleigh tied the belt of her silk dressing gown; Nicholas picked up his discarded shirt and put it on. Adjusting his clothing, he then went to stand before the fireplace. Leaning against the mantle, he stared at the dying embers in the hearth for several long moments, his thoughts and emotions in absolute turmoil. Sensing Ashleigh's eyes upon him, he turned, shoving his hands into his pockets, his gaze meeting and holding hers. He could see the hurt she fought to hide and suddenly he w
anted to go to her, to comfort her, to tell her…what? He didn’t know. He resisted the overwhelming urge, forcing himself not to move. It was one of the hardest things he had ever done.
Ashleigh was still sitting on the couch, nervous and unsure, her hands restless in her lap as she waited for him to say something. His expression revealed his remorse and regret, but he seemed as much at a loss for words as she was. He didn’t need to say anything, she already knew what he was thinking, and her heart was breaking. She wanted to fall into his arms and beg him to love her, but her innate pride and inherent courage wouldn’t allow it. She needed Nicholas to acknowledge his feelings for her on his own, she couldn’t force him to do so. But sadly she feared that was something he might never be able to do. “I am not expecting a proposal, in case you were wondering.” She tried to keep her voice light and even made a feeble attempt at a smile. Was that a flicker of relief she detected in his eyes, she wondered with a twinge of desolation?
“I’m sorry, Ashleigh. Christ, I…” he began, with a slight shake of his head.
“I know. You don’t need to explain.”
He should have felt relieved that she wasn’t going to make the situation any more difficult than it already was, but instead he merely felt remorseful and ashamed. However, despite his shame and despite what had happened, what he had instigated, he knew that he couldn’t allow it to change anything. He couldn’t allow it to mean anything to him, or to her. As difficult as it was, he understood that, even if she didn’t.
Rising from the sofa, Ashleigh concealed her hurt as best she could behind a veil of false bravado. “I should go,” she said, though silently she prayed he would tell her to stay. He didn’t.
“I will leave for London first thing in the morning.” Running his fingers through his tousled hair, he regarded Ashleigh with somber resignation. “I do not think it would be wise for us to…see each other again.”
Until You Page 13