Desire Me Always

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Desire Me Always Page 4

by Tiffany Clare


  “I like when you make good on your promises.”

  “I always do.”

  “I know.” Amelia lowered her mouth to his and let him distract her into the wee morning hours.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “Did you ever imagine you would marry?” Landon asked Nick as they stared down the ridge toward the manor house and the surrounding lands of Highgate.

  “Not before Amelia came into my life.”

  “My sentiments exactly before I met Meredith.”

  Nick well recalled when Landon had met his wife and always had thought such a union so perfectly made would be impossible for him. How wrong he had been.

  Nick turned his gaze up to the gray sky, hoping they wouldn’t get caught in a downpour. Today he should feel on top of the world, having only the day before married the woman he loved, but something held him back from that idyllic feeling.

  Shauley’s waiting in the wings to cause more problems was likely part of the reason he felt reserved about his good luck. Here, he sat atop his horse, a man staring down at the land he’d wanted to possess for as long as he could remember. So why hadn’t purchasing this land and the manor helped to bury his past as he thought it would?

  The wind rolled around them, a reminder that nature was in control of unleashing a storm at any moment.

  “So this is Caldon Manor,” his friend mused. While they’d been here a week, and Landon had helped in the search effort for Amelia, they had not made their way out to the manor in the light of day to assess the property. Nick hadn’t wanted to leave Amelia’s side since the incident.

  “Indeed. It is.”

  “You could have found a hundred different manor houses to convert. I daresay you could have found something in better shape too. Why this one?”

  Was there a hint of skepticism in his friend’s comment?

  “I go back a long way with this property. It has . . . nostalgic value.”

  Landon cocked one eyebrow as he stared at Nick in disbelief. “Care to elaborate on this secret past of yours?”

  “Not particularly.” Nick squeezed his thighs around his mount, pushing the gelding closer to the old house. The sight of it still haunted him to this day. His past had started here, created the man he’d become, but his obsession in owning this house had nearly cost him Amelia. And that was unacceptable to him.

  Landon wasn’t far behind as Nick took his horse to a trot. They had a few hours to themselves before breakfast was served.

  Caldon Manor loomed before them as they slowed their horses.

  “It might be better to tear down the heap of rubble,” Landon pointed out.

  “True. But my sister has her sights set on fixing up this place to its former grandeur for her school.”

  And he had plans on making the town a better place while he was at it. There was so much hatred and darkness ingrained in the town that it practically seeped through his bones. That gloomy ugliness needed to change.

  “How many acres surround this place?”

  “Forty. It will be enough land to build houses for the families that don’t take up residence in the strip of properties you are acquiring from this purchase.”

  Landon grunted as he led his horse toward the back of the property. Nick followed, looking at the house in a new light. He could scarcely believe it was his. Having purchased it with such ease made the whole ordeal seem anticlimactic to his goals.

  They walked past a roughly made wooden fence that didn’t look a day less than fifty years, surrounding an old vegetable patch full of weeds and rocks. The fence trailed farther, to the edge of the wood that lined the property. Nick’s hand’s tightened on the reins when he spied an old man hunched over in his dark brown robes, walking with a cane and carrying a basket laden with whatever he’d foraged for in the wood.

  “It appears you have a neighbor,” Landon said absently.

  Nick didn’t respond; he wasn’t sure how to when he was staring at someone from his past, at one of the men who could have been his advocate instead of silently hanging back in the pews, letting evil happen in all parts of the school Nick had attended as a boy.

  The old man was but a fraction of the man he’d once been, frail and weak as he leaned heavily upon his cane, and walking with a limp along an old worn-down path lined with stones. The old man hadn’t noticed Landon or Nick as he walked deeper into the wood to whatever hellhole he called home these days.

  Confront him, or let him be for now?

  Nick dug his heels into the animal’s sides. Realizing what he’d done, he eased up on the horse.

  “It seems I do,” he finally said. And he sure as hell couldn’t go after the old man. Such forwardness would require revealing something of himself to Landon. The old monk was safe from Nick’s wrath. Besides, that particular broken soul wasn’t the sole person responsible for Nick’s damaged past. That accomplishment was with the old vicar who headed up the all-boys school Nick attended when he was no more than eleven.

  “I’ll be sure to introduce myself another day,” Nick said, realizing he was lost in his thoughts. He focused on the dilapidated manor house. The only way to describe it was broken. Something Nick could relate to within himself.

  Landon didn’t seem to care either way if they made friends with the locals this morning, so Nick further steered his friend away from thoughts of the monk.

  “We’ve been gone too long. My new bride will wonder where I am.”

  “My wife as well.” Landon patted the side of his horse and gave the house one last look.

  “I’ve wanted this chunk of land for so long, it’s odd that I don’t feel an ounce of relief now that I own it.”

  “I find it’s the things we are denied that we want most. And once we’ve succeeded in that goal, we wonder what our purpose was for wanting that end result so badly.”

  Nick felt no stirring of emotion when he studied the pitted, worn stone structure. Now that the first part of his goal had been obtained, his original goal seemed unfulfilled. The house was merely an object, not the source of his hatred toward this place. The vicar would be dealt with soon enough. Though Nick hoped he didn’t feel the same lack of accomplishment after ruining what was left of the vicar’s life.

  “At any rate, you said it best. You have a new bride to get back to, and I have a wife to spoil,” Landon said, drawing Nick’s attention back to the here and now.

  “Let’s get back, then.”

  Landon rode up beside Nick and looked over his shoulder at Caldon Manor. “I still believe it would be better served razed. Less work to build something new.”

  Nick didn’t look back at the old house; what he did know was that he wasn’t so eager to erase any part of his past, and tearing the house down irrevocably seemed wrong. His past could not be wiped clean. The house would remain standing as a reminder that he had to keep fighting for all those children in future generations who were helpless to men like the vicar.

  “I’m afraid Sera’s heart is set on complete restoration. She wants a grand manor house for her school. She said she doesn’t want the place to feel institutional. I agree that a house is more fitting for children.” Nick had convinced her to take on the task of schoolmistress, with a grand manor as an enticement to the children’s parents. “The way Sera’s eyes lit up when I told her about this place . . . it’s something I cannot take away from her.”

  He shouldn’t lay his reasoning on his sister’s shoulders, but his rationalization for everything was no one’s business but his own.

  “I’ll never understand the logic of women.” Landon shook his head.

  Nick laughed.

  Silence fell upon them for a spell, and all Nick could think was that he sure as hell couldn’t figure out what went on in a woman’s mind, but still, he wanted to get back to Amelia.

  “It’s the mystery that keeps us going back to them,” Nick said, eager to be back in bed with his bride before breakfast could be served.

  “Never did I hear truer words,”
his friend agreed.

  With a challenging look at each other, they raced their horses back to the inn.

  A few hours in her company would wipe away the memories that had invaded Nick’s thoughts during his run with Landon. It wasn’t just the mystery of how she made him feel that kept him coming back; it was her beauty, her kindness . . . her love.

  Amelia had been awake for at least fifteen minutes but was too tired to even contemplate getting out of bed. She threw off her blanket to dispel the haze of warmth that grew increasingly overwhelming. The sun had only cracked through the curtains in their room, indicating just how early it was. Why was she even awake?

  And where in the world could Nick have gone at this hour?

  After the events of yesterday and their exertions late into the night, the thought of rising before the birds drew out a groan and had her hiding her head beneath a pillow to block out the morning light. She buried her head deeper into the down pillow, wishing sleep would drag her back under, but the longer she lay there without her husband, the odder she felt in not rising to greet the day and all it had to offer as a married woman.

  Amelia couldn’t hold back the smile at that thought.

  Before she rose from the bed, the bedchamber door creaked open. She lifted the corner of the pillow with a yawn impossible to stifle.

  “Goodness,” she said, covering her mouth too late. “Good morning.” She forced herself to sit up and took one look at the haunted look on Nick’s face and pinched her lips shut.

  So the honeymoon was over. He’d reverted back to his closed-off self.

  What had changed between last night and this morning?

  Had she slept through another of his nightmares? No, that simply wasn’t possible.

  “Nick?” Her voice was quiet, questioning.

  “I need you.” The starkness of his voice, the command in his declaration had her mouth snapping shut. She brushed her hand through the mess of curls that hung around her shoulders.

  Nick stalked toward her, dropping his jacket to the floor without a care, unbuttoning his waistcoat and pulling his shirt over his head. He was divested from all his clothes before he even reached the bed.

  “What has happened?” She knew she shouldn’t ask, but the hope that he would share with her what troubled his thoughts came to the forefront and unleashed her tongue.

  “Nothing that needs worrying.”

  Except for everything he always seemed to keep quiet about.

  “We are man and wife,” she said. “What do we have to hide from each other?”

  “You have all of me.”

  Amelia placed her feet on the floor, spreading her knees wide to make room for him to stand between them. He leaned over her, his mouth hovering a few inches from her own.

  “Do I?” she whispered.

  “You do.” He kissed her gently, tempting her to take more, and she did. “Your hunger for me makes me want to take you and fuck us both into sweet oblivion.”

  “Sweet platitudes will only get you so far,” she teased him right back. Though hurt stabbed her heart at little that he kept secrets from her at all.

  “Then we will worry about the state of us when we’ve hit that plateau.”

  She tried not to let the disappointment of his comment add to the insecurities she had, but it was no use. She felt further away from him than she had before they were married. And that didn’t seem right. No. She knew, in her heart, that it wasn’t right.

  Needing to distract her thoughts, Amelia wrapped her hands around his arms and lowered her head in a different kind of surrender. When they made love, their connection seemed deeper.

  While it might not be right in the grand scheme of their marriage, she couldn’t refuse his need any more than she could deny her love for him and her willingness to do anything that might chase away his demons. Wasn’t keeping her husband’s troubles at bay part of holy matrimony?

  She shoved her worries out of her mind and lifted enough from the bed that she could remove her chemise. She tossed it away and sat before her husband, naked as the day she was born.

  Leaning back on her hands, she looked up at Nick with a wicked grin. “However shall we occupy ourselves, husband?”

  His mouth was fierce as it landed upon hers, his lips melding at first and then stealing her breath away before she could temper the severity of his desire. Not that she wanted to mute his need. Not when she craved him in any way she could have him.

  Did that make her a weak person? She couldn’t say.

  What mattered was that he needed her.

  He’d come to her when his thoughts were troubled. He came to her when he didn’t want to be around others. While all that should be good for something, it was hard to ignore the fact that he was still locking her out in some ways.

  Nick couldn’t say what had come over him the moment Amelia stripped away her chemise. The base desire that had been building inside him on the ride back to the inn, one that lent to his need for control, took over his thoughts.

  It came down to how he felt when he was with her and the vivacity he always saw in his new bride. He wanted to take that precious quality into him and wash away everything that tainted the man he was.

  Amelia was willing to hand over the reins whenever he asked, give him absolute control when that was the only thing that allowed him to put distance between the reality of now and the nightmares that took him over when his past reared its ugly head.

  His lips tugged at hers, fierce, desperate. The taste and warmth of her mouth had his cock raging hard. He ripped his lips away from hers, wanting only to bury himself between her thighs, yet wanting to keep a modicum of control on his emotions.

  When she looked at him with accepting blue eyes, there was no mistaking the ardor clouding them and mirroring how he felt.

  He fisted his hand around the base of his rod, the tip already wet with pre-come, and brushed over her ruby-red, kiss-swollen lips. She flicked her tongue against the head, and a groan passed his lips. His need was so great he felt semen boiling up from his balls and ready to flood her mouth, and he pushed past the opening of her mouth, fucking it shallowly. She took him eagerly and sucked him in deeper. He nearly lost control then, but stilled and regained that perfect equilibrium that gave him power over his emotions and his body.

  She was so goddamn perfect as she swallowed his cock with more vigor, as though this was the only thing she needed from him. That regained control was slipping from his grasp.

  “Fuck,” he muttered, voice hoarse as he pulled out of the sweet haven. “I won’t last a minute if you keep taking me in your mouth.”

  Releasing his grip on his cockstand, he took Amelia’s hand and guided her to her feet so they stood face-to-face. He caressed the side of her cheek, his cock flexing against her stomach, needing to be satiated, but he wasn’t ready to finish this just yet; he was only getting started.

  “There is nothing I wouldn’t give to stay in this room, like this, for the rest of our days,” he said, meaning every word.

  That earned him a small, shy smile. “And what of your friends? Your family?”

  “You are the most important person in my life and possess an uncanny ability to chase away the darkness inside me.”

  “Nick,” she said breathlessly as she pressed the tip of her fingers against his lips. Right before his eyes, he watched her shed the daze of arousal.

  Goddamn it. He shouldn’t have said anything. He should have fucked her until they were both senseless. He pressed his forehead against hers and inhaled the fresh scent of lavender oil still permeating her skin from the bath they’d shared the night before.

  “What happened this morning?” she asked.

  “Nothing that can’t be forgotten. I came back to lose myself in you. I like forgetting the larger world around us. I like it when the only worry we have is the two of us seeking mutual release.”

  Amelia’s small, slender hands pressed against his chest, guiding him backward.

 
“Let me take care of you, then.” Her voice was gentle. Soothing, even.

  She led him to an oversized chair and gave him a little push when his calves brushed against the material of said chair, and he fell into the comfortable seat. Amelia looked down at his lap before meeting his gaze. When he reached for her waist to pull her closer, she smacked his hand away.

  “Someone once told me I needed to learn the art of patience.”

  “I can’t wait to have you, Amelia.”

  “I can promise the feeling is mutual. But I need to do this on my terms.”

  She lifted his hand, palm up, and placed it between her thighs. He nearly exploded when his fingers slicked through her cream; she was so ready for him. He buried his fingers deep, unable to hold himself back, even though she wanted to take control. She didn’t pull away.

  “Do you feel what you do to me?” she said.

  “I want to suck the juices from your cunt.”

  She shook her head and placed one of her feet next to his thigh on the chair, opening herself to his ravenous gaze but still keeping herself far enough away that he couldn’t do all that he wanted. Nick shoved two fingers deep into her sheath, pulled them out, and licked them off. Her breath hitched, and the cloud of desire ate up the blue of her irises once again.

  Still . . . she waited.

  Nick studied her carefully. “You’re contemplating your next move.”

  “Perhaps.” She nibbled on her lower lip, covering a grin that said he was exactly right.

  “You are rethinking your strategy, because the thought of me licking that tight, throbbing clitoris has you dripping wet.”

  “And if it does?”

  “Let me pleasure you.”

  She shook her head and lowered her hand between her thighs, opening the lips of her sex, like a clamshell ready to be devoured when she revealed the swollen pearl hidden inside.

  His mouth watered, desperate for a taste.

  “Touch yourself,” she said, firmer, more sure of herself.

  Nick caught her gaze. “You first.”

  She shook her head. “You forget who is in charge. I want you to stroke yourself, Nick.” With her free hand she plucked at her nipple, further elongating the already firm peak.

 

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