To Love in Silence (Currents of Love Book 3)

by Emilee Harris

  He kissed her, slower this time, but with every bit as much need. A moment later, he felt the blanket shift where it separated their bodies at his chest, those small fingers working to heat his skin and send his blood pulsing through his veins. Within seconds those heated palms snaked over his chest, setting fire to every part of him they touched, and curled around his neck, fingers burying into his hair and pulling him close. He sighed against her lips, encouraging her to tighten her grip.

  He knew she’d partially opened the blanket to give her hands free access to him, that same hand which had wandered the length of her up to her shoulder now wandered in search of the edge of the blanket, peeling it aside, then leaning to allow his other hand to do the same, careful not to press against her just yet. He wanted to see her.

  Shifting back, he eased away far enough to see the gift he’d unwrapped. Eloise watched him, allowing her arms to drop to her sides, hands twitching to cover herself, but she restrained them, giving him permission to look at her, see her. That knowledge had him teetering on the edge of ecstasy even faster than the sight of her delectable body laid bare to him.

  He shifted to lay beside her, hand reaching to follow the same path it had taken over the blanket. Her leg twitched as he covered her knee with his hand and he smiled down at her blush, sliding his palm along the smooth expanse of her leg to her hip. Pausing there, he let his thumb find the curve of her bone there and trace it before angling his approach inward across her belly. Her muscles flinched again, unused to the touch, and Eric spent a moment battling the urge to run his fingers into the copper curls at the apex of her thighs, test their texture, find the treasures they hid and discover just how much she enjoyed his touch. But it was too soon for that and there were other delicacies yet to sample.

  His hand drifted upward, across her navel, along her ribs, until it reached the underside of perfectly rounded breasts he already knew would fit precisely into the cup of his palm. Eloise took in a deep breath, the action raising those breasts in invitation. He brushed the underside of one orb with his knuckle, noting Eloise’s intake of breath and observing the way the rosy peak puckered. Mouth watering, he gave in to the desire to cup her breast, testing its weight, kneading softly. Eloise squirmed at the touch, her mouth forming that beautiful shape associated with pleasure. Watching as her eyes fluttered shut, he dragged his thumb across her nipple, sending her arching into him.

  He moaned, taking that peak into his mouth and pressing his hardness against her hip. Her arms came around to embrace him again as he alternated his attention from breast to the other before trailing kisses up along her breastbone and neck, along her jaw and back to her mouth. Tenuous hold on control and civility failing, his pulse raced, and his lungs struggled to maintain a reasonable pace as his body screamed to take her, to bury himself in her.

  The space beside the fire became too hot. For both of them, judging by the flushed color of Eloise’s skin when Eric finally dragged himself far enough back from her to see it. Moving himself up to a kneeling position beside her, he took her into his arms and carried her to the bed, removing his trousers before joining her. Her eyes went round at the sight of him, but she didn’t shy away or avert her gaze, heightening his ardor. This girl was a conundrum, at once both fragile and fearless. The thought raced through his mind he would look forward to exploring that fearlessness with her.

  Joining her in the bed, he spared no time in covering her body with his, eager to feel her softness pressed into him and cradling him. The sensation proved everything he’d dreamed of and infinitely more. His hands and lips roved every inch of her, teasing and tasting until he could no longer stand his own insistent need and she was writhing beneath him, fingers clutching at him and her throat permanently thrumming with her sounds of pleasure.

  Stealing a hand between her thighs, he found the soft folds his fingers yearned to explore earlier, slick and hot with her need.

  “Eloise,” he whispered against her throat, positioning himself where his fingers were.

  “Eric.”

  He felt the movement of her lips against his cheek, the vibration of the sound at his cheekbone, and the heat of her breath as it sighed across his ear and he shuddered. Every sensation converged with such precision, as though he truly had heard her. His heart surged as he plunged into her, barely able to restrain the movement. She arched into him and tightened her arms around him.

  He hesitated, worried he might have hurt her, but in the semi-darkness away from the fire her lips searched out his, her hands pulled him close, and her legs came up to wrap over his hips. Thus encouraged, he released any lingering doubts and surged forward, claiming every perfect inch of her as his to accept and protect.

  Tension built in her with every stroke, mirroring the plight of his own muscles. Their arms tightened around each other, Their abdomens clenching and releasing in time with each rock of their hips. When her inner muscles began to clench and pulse, Eric gripped her hip in an attempt to guide her movement, needing her to experience the full wave of this ecstasy before he plunged over the precipice he was fast approaching. He altered pace, knowing she wanted fast but keeping his thrusts long and deep as she clenched around him, arching against him, nails biting into him, but he didn’t relent, rolling his hips with each plunge until she clamped down on him and sent a long shout reverberating through the muscle of his shoulder and into his soul. She set off an explosion he wasn’t ready for, jolting him into his own release.

  As their bodies relaxed and sleep overtook them, Eric shifted to Eloise’s side but kept her close, unwilling to let go of the treasure he’d found. She snuggled into him, threading her fingers through his and resting her head on his shoulder. For the first time Eric could remember since losing his hearing, the world felt right.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  ELOISE STRETCHED HERSELF long and languid under the sheets, before curling into a contented ball on her side, snuggling her face into the pillow. Every inch of her seemed pleasantly sore as she scrunched her eyes shut and willed herself to return to that pleasant dream she'd been in the midst of... So warm, so comforting...

  Pleasantly sore? She made another tentative stretch, more of a half maneuver, twisting her torso from side to side as she didn't care for the idea of moving from her newly settled cocoon. There it was again, that semi-soreness which spoke of welcome activity. It tightened her arms, her thighs, along her belly and... Inside her. Her eyes flew open and she sat up. The instant splash of cold against her skin prompting her to look down and realize she sat completely naked in the bed. A bed not her own. A sound at her side sent her grasping up the sheets with gasp as she looked over to seeing the figure of a man silhouetted against the window. The man hurried to sit at the edge of the bed, speaking her name before she had time to shriek.

  “Eloise?”

  A familiar voice, a calm voice. She blinked into the semi-dark, watching as the man fumbled to light the candle on the bedside stand. The soft glow illuminated familiar features, Eric's features, those which had but a moment before entranced her dreams and warmed her through. Memory began to rush into her sleep induced confusion. It wasn't a dream, she'd gone to Eric when he went to change. Asked him... She brought a hand up to her eyes, rubbing them as her mind worked to sort through the images in her head. She’d thought... and then by the fire... Her hand drifted down to cover her mouth.

  “Eloise, are you all right?”

  She looked up into his concerned gaze, took in those features so dear to her. An instant sense of calm and security replaced the tumult of memory. “Yes,” she replied with a fragile laugh and a small shake of her head. “For a moment, I didn't know where I was.”

  He reached out to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing over it, and smiled at her. A beguiling smile which shattered any lingering resistance to her memories. Those hands had set off so many wonderful sensations in her. Tilting her head, she kissed his palm before her eyes roved over him, eager for another glimpse of the smooth skin and taught mus
cle which drove her to distraction not long ago. To her surprise, he sat beside her in shirt and trousers. She felt her brows lift and must have shown her confusion because he gently tilted her head back up to look at him.

  He greeted her with a grin. “The servants will be up soon. It will ruin you to be found here. I would prefer to discuss the future privately and on our own time.”

  The future? Eloise hoped that meant he wanted one with her. In either case, his words made sense. She nodded.

  He ran his thumb along her jaw and over her lips, his eyes taking on a distant quality as they focused on her mouth. Her heart skipped in her chest and she found herself hoping he might kiss her. He didn’t leave her uncertain for long. Leaning in, he pressed his lips softly to hers, increasing pressure as he wrapped his arms around her. Not a hungry or demanding kiss, but something soulful and filled with promise for the future. He broke the kiss and took in a breath, smiling down at her again before releasing her and standing.

  “I'll go fetch your robe and come back for you.” He glanced over his shoulder to the now dormant hearth. “I don't know that your shift is completely dry, but it will have to do.

  She nodded, watching him move toward the door. Once he'd gone, she reluctantly pulled back the covers and made her way over to the fireplace, where her shift still hung on the back of the chair. She reached her hand out to test the material. Still slightly damp, it was at least no longer drenched. She tugged the garment on, then turned in place, taking in the details of Eric's room, which she hadn't bothered to consider before, aside from discerning the fact the room wasn’t hers.

  She began wandering the room at leisure, looking at the few paintings on the walls, running her fingers along the carved wood of the bed frame. Something seemed distinctly different about this room the more she studied it. Not just the fact it belonged to Eric and held a distinctly masculine ambiance with its dark wood paneling and wall coverings, there was something else. Try as she might, though, she couldn't place it until she returned to the fireplace and set a hand on the mantle.

  The expanse loomed barren, no small decor items to break the uniformity of it. Lifting her gaze up to the painting above the mantle, she noted it was unlike the majority she’d become accustomed to seeing in the Langdon home. It depicted a landscape. A sprawling country field on a summer's day. The contrast between this piece and so many others she'd marveled at in the home struck her as conspicuous. All the other paintings depicted maritime themes; often ships sailing exotic seas or caught in the throes of storm. Even her own room boasted several small nautical elements. Looking again at the mantle, Eloise almost expected to discover a tiny ship in a bottle resting there, but the space remained empty.

  Turning around to take in the details of the room again, she confirmed not a single item inside the room, not in decor, not in the carvings of the bed, not even along the wall hangings, indicated Eric came from a fiercely seafaring family. She frowned, curious why he would keep his room so sterile when at all other times since she'd arrived at Heathermoore he seemed intensely proud of his family and their profession. Roaming the room as she continued to contemplate this singularity, Eloise found herself standing beside Eric's desk.

  Several missives sat on the desk, the topmost open and laying on the desk while another two sat one beside the other as though in queue to be read. The open one partially concealed a smaller note folded inside of it. Curious, she applied the tip of her index finger to the corner of the folded page, extending the fold far enough she could see the note. It was addressed to Sir Thomas. Brows rising, she lifted the note and tilted her head to see the letter beneath. That letter was addressed to Eric and signed by a mister Avery. Eloise pursed her lips, recognizing the name of the man who’d come by looking for Sir Thomas not long ago.

  Shaking her head, she set the note back as she’d found it and turned away from the desk. She had no business disrupting Eric’s private correspondence. She considered sitting on the bed, but a glance out the window at the lightening sky spurred an anxious need to move. She set to pacing in front of the hearth, relieved when Eric reentered the room, her robe draped over his arm. He held the item up for her and she quickly went over to him, slipping her arms through the sleeves and allowing him to drape the material over her shoulders, delighting in the way his hands lingered over her collarbone and shoulders. Then he turned her to face him.

  “We've got to go, are you ready?”

  She took one final glance around his room out of habit but knew there was nothing else of hers remaining. He’d fished her out of the pond in just her shift and slippers, both of which she now wore. Nodding, she took his hand as he opened the door and led her out into the hall. They made their way to her room, where he paused before opening the door for her.

  “Try to get some sleep,” he whispered. “I'll see you later today and perhaps we can find an opportunity to talk.” She smiled her agreement and knew she had to let him go but hated to. She squeezed his hand and brought it to her lips. His other hand came up to her cheek again and as she raised her head to look at him he bowed his so their lips met in the process, a sweet, lingering pressure which did nothing to satisfy the burgeoning warmth it sparked, but when he pulled away from her again she knew better than to press her luck after he'd gone to the trouble of trying to return her quietly to her room. The heated look she saw in his eyes, brightened by the burgeoning dawn, so full of desire and anguish, would have to keep her content. She darted into her room before she lost her nerve, taking with her the sight of his smile, his disheveled hair, the scruff on his cheek, and the promise in his eyes.

  SWALLOWING AGAINST the butterflies in her stomach, Eloise smoothed her palms down her gown. She'd never taken any particular care in her dress, but this morning it seemed massively important. She’d only slept a few hours before her restlessness brought her awake again. Bright sunlight cast an altogether different hue over her memories of last night. Not regret, never that, she thought as her mind’s eye conjured up that parting image of Eric again and her insides turned to jelly. No, her concern focused on the future.

  Eric mentioned finding time to talk, and that alone caused her significant anticipation, but so many potential obstacles existed between them in the form of her family and the limitations the world put on him. She would happily face it all for him, but what if he decided against an ongoing relationship? No one knew what happened, they could part ways. That possibility stabbed at her and she squeezed her hands together. She took a last glance in the mirror. She would not force Eric into an association he didn’t want. If last night was all the intimacy this life gifted them, she would treasure it.

  Making her way toward the breakfast room, she actively implored her hands not to reach for each other or fidget. Life seemed so different this morning, irrevocably changed. Heat rose to her cheeks as she considered the fact that only a few hours before she'd been in Eric's bed, clasping him to her and discovering the pleasure of him moving inside of her. Pausing as she neared the breakfast room, she brought her hands to her cheeks and took in a deep breath. Letting it out on a sigh, she straightened her posture, lifted her chin, and marched forward.

  On entering the breakfast room, she forced her eyes not to linger on Eric sitting at the head of the table and focus on Sarah instead, who beamed her delight. The sight warmed Eloise's heart, in the short amount of time they'd known each other, she felt as though she’d gained a sister in Sarah.

  “Good morning,” Sarah greeted. “I trust—”

  Her bright smile faded as she took in Eloise's countenance, replaced by concern. “Dear me, you're looking pale this morning. Are you unwell?”

  Eloise's hand darted to her cheek as Sarah turned to her brother and evidently translated her words, finalizing a flurry of hand gestures by pointing at Eloise. Eric brought his attention up to her, a similar look of concern dawning on his features. The moment his clear blue eyes locked onto hers, a flush of heat brought the blood racing back to her face.

 
“No,” she breathed. “No, I—” she paused, eyes darting about the table searching for a suitable response. “I didn't sleep all that well last night is all.”

  “Oh dear,” Sarah sympathized. “I hope nothing has upset you?”

  “No, it was, um, pleasant memories which kept me awake.” She darted a glance at Eric in time to catch him duck his attention to his plate, a smile tugging at his lips and a swath of color blossoming on his cheek. To her great relief, Sarah seemed not to note the interaction.

  “Oh yes,” her friend continued. “The holiday season can do that. “Well you must eat a hearty breakfast in that case, and I won't prevail upon you too harshly today, you need only mention when you are tired and I shall leave you in peace.”

  “I'm sure I will be quite happy to spend my time with you, Sarah, but I thank you for the offer.” She set herself at the table across from her friend and began filling her plate. Her eyes ached to look in Eric's direction, sure she would find herself subject to his observation, but she dared not allow it. Focusing instead on her meal, she had taken only a few bites before a footman entered with a message.

  “There is a coach arrived for Miss. Marchand.” The man announced. Both Langdon siblings looked to her with surprise.