The Temptation of Grace

by Kristin Vayden

  He stood up and took a seat beside her, and with a grin, lifted her legs under her knees and placed them over his, pulling her in tight. “Much better.”

  Grace had gasped slightly, but recovered with a pleased smile. “Much better,” she agreed.

  It was a sweet torture, having her so close. He allowed himself the pleasure of teasing a single finger along the line of her jaw, watching as her lips dropped open just enough for him to give her an inviting kiss, if he wished, but he restrained himself and simply gloried in the kind of tension that builds before you experience something you’ve anticipated for a long while.

  Her breathing was short and her eyes took on a glazed expression that made his body hungry, his soul hungry, his entire being desperately hungry.

  The carriage hit a bump in the road, blessedly distracting him from the temptation of Grace. His finger burned where he touched her, and he noted the rosy hue her skin took on after his gentle caress. It was fascinating, deliriously erotic, how one touch could do so much, create so much need. It only took one match to light a fire, and the same was true for desire: it only took one touch, and sometimes just a look.

  “Ramsey.” Grace whispered his name.

  Dear Lord, how he loved hearing his name on her lips. He wanted to taste it there, to tear it from her as she cried out in pleasure. But for now, he simply met her warm gaze and replied with a simple, “Yes?”

  Her gaze searched his, her need for him written as clearly in her expression as if it were jotted down on a page. “How far away is your house?”

  He chuckled at her transparency, adored her for it. She was his constant spring of refreshment; in a world that worked in secrets, shades of gray, and intrigue, there was Grace. She was artless, and utterly honest to a fault. It was her greatest strength and he was thankful anew for her.

  “Not nearly close enough,” he whispered, and then, because he couldn’t resist any longer, he took her lips with his. It was a slow kiss, one meant to prolong and draw out the pleasure of it all. He tipped his head slightly, just enough to capture more of her lips as he kissed her again. One hand reached up to sweep along her shoulders, the other rested on the carriage seat, just to the side of her, while he held on to his sanity and control, tempering himself with an iron grip on the upholstery while he waited.

  The idea of purgatory sifted through his mind once more.

  Except this was more of heaven than anything else.

  Grace leaned into his kiss, her hands trailing up the arms of his coat till they circled around the back of his neck, her fingers teasing his hair. He let out a groan, giving himself over to the pleasure of her touch.

  He deepened the kiss; pressing back into her, he reached down with the hand not gripping onto the carriage seat and teased the hem of her skirt as it hung over her legs, which were, subsequently, resting upon his legs. With a wicked grin just before he kissed her again, he trailed his fingers up her stocking-covered ankles, the memories of their earlier encounter flooding through him, setting his body on fire.

  As his hand reached up to her knee, he felt her gasp against his lips before leaning back into the kiss with a stronger urgency. He was about to graze the inside of her thigh when the carriage came to a stop.

  He slowly released her from their passionate kiss, and watched as realization took hold in her expression. Forcing his body to calm, at least calm enough to make an entrance to their home and subsequently to make it to their bedchamber, he offered a roguish smile. “Welcome home.”

  Grace blinked. Her gaze dropped to his lips, and if he could hear her thoughts, he swore it would have been a strong request to continue kissing, but rather than engage in her more amorous nature, she slowly distanced herself and, blushing, said, “I love the way that sounds.”

  “As do I,” Ramsey replied, then thinking about the icy cold pond near Glenwood Manor, he straightened his jacket and alighted from the carriage. The staff was waiting for their arrival, as was apparent by the already open door where several of the staff waited with restrained grins.

  Grace took his hand, and he reminded himself that the staff only needed a brief presentation of his wife before he could retire to the bedroom. After the introductions were made, and the excuses given—much to the blush of his bride—Ramsey tugged on Grace’s hand, leading her to the stairs. When her pace wasn’t as quick as he judged was imperative, he turned around, lifted her into his arms, and took the stairs at a quicker pace.

  In less than five minutes, they had gone from the carriage to the bedroom, and that was the end of their rushing. Now, it was time to slow down every moment, every thought, and every touch. Time would wait for them, inside this room. For once, Ramsey wasn’t concerned about the world around him, their opinions, their thoughts, their whispers—his world was entirely in this room.

  His world was smiling at him.

  His world was a woman.

  The only woman who mattered.

  His wife.

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Thump, thump, thump . . .

  A pounding rhythm pulsed through her body, echoing her heart. She was equal parts ready, and not. Half thrilled, half scared, glorying in the moment, and worrying over it, all at once. How she could divide herself so equally, and with such opposition, was unknown, but it was the truth.

  It was folly, because as soon as Ramsey—her husband—how she loved the way it sounded—kissed her, everything but need vanished. But when he wasn’t kissing her, fear crept in.

  Because she had very little experience, and no real knowledge on how to go about . . . it.

  And while she was quite certain he would make the experience fantastic for her, she wanted to be able to return the favor, and that is why she was hesitant, because what if she couldn’t please him as he pleased her?

  “Grace.” He whispered her name, and she licked her lips. A smile teased her face as she thought back over to how it all started with the same instinct. And how so much had changed since then.

  “Grace.” He whispered again, stepping toward her. Upon arrival in the bedroom he’d set her on her feet, then moved to lock the door. He was now closing that distance, one step at a time. His gaze was hungry, full of desire and unspoken promises of pleasure. Her body hummed with the want of it, the fear thawing slowly in the warmth of her desire. The way he looked at her, it was music, it was glory, it made her not only feel beautiful but it made her feel . . . enough.

  How could such a common word mean so much, and carry so deep a resonation in her soul? Enough. It was all she had ever wanted to be. Ladylike enough that she wouldn’t be a disgrace, clever enough not to fail her tutors, dance well enough not to be a disaster . . . enough. But when her husband’s gaze lingered on her, as if cataloguing every nuance of her face, her expression, and her body, it was as if she was not only enough, but perfect, at least to him.

  And she decided that all the time she thought she only wanted to be enough, she actually just wanted to be enough for someone, the right one. For him.

  Ramsey.

  “Your mind is spinning, isn’t it?” he asked, reaching up and tucking a curl behind her ear.

  “Maybe,” Grace replied, sighing softly. Why was she always so easy to read?

  “I love that I can gather your thoughts just by gazing at your face. Your expressions are my favorite book, and I cannot wait to spend the rest of my life reading it.”

  Grace blinked, her lips dropping open slightly. “That is quite possibly the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard.”

  “It’s only the truth, though I’m pleased you find it romantic.” He lifted her hand and placed a lingering kiss there. Without a word, he lowered her hand and tugged on each finger of her glove, slowly removing it from her hand. The leather whispered as it was taken off, and he allowed it to fall to the ground. He repeated the same movements with her other hand, kissing it first, then removing the glove.

  Her heart started pounding again; when it had slowed she hadn’t noticed, but it was no
longer slow, but pounding hard—not fast, just powerfully, as if starting to gear up her body for something . . . for someone.

  “I love your hands,” Ramsey whispered against her wrist, kissing it softly, his lips delicate on her skin. “You talk with them, did you know?”

  “My father often said I did.”

  “He was a wise man.”

  “The best.”

  “Do you think . . .” Ramsey paused and met her gaze. “Would he have liked me? Approved of us?”

  Grace smiled warmly. “If you love me, then my father would have needed no other grounds to approve of you. He only wanted me to be loved like he loved my mother.”

  “A love match,” Ramsey whispered, grinning. “Is that what we are?” He flirted, tugging on her hand to pull her in close enough to kiss.

  “Would you disagree?” Grace teased, tipping her chin upward, just enough to make it easier for him to bend down and take her lips.

  He kissed her nose instead. “I would never imagine disagreeing with you.”

  “Why do I find that hard to believe?” Grace returned, dryly.

  “Because it’s a lie.” Ramsey let out a low chuckle, and then finally lowered his lips to hers, lingering there just enough to send her blood to pounding. “But what is not a lie is that I love you.” He kissed her again, deeper, searchingly, as if answering his own question with a kiss by pulling the love from her heart and tasting it in her kiss.

  Grace returned the kiss, her hands winding around his neck, lacing through his hair as he deepened the exchange, her body singing in response to the firm lines of his frame pressing into her softer ones.

  “I love you too,” she murmured against his lips, without giving him a chance to respond as she pressed harder into him, needing him to be closer.

  His hands trailed down her back, pausing here and there, but she was barely aware as she was utterly distracted by the pleasure of his kiss as his tongue swept across her lips, while his teeth nipped and played.

  She returned the gesture, nibbling on his bottom lip, her hands trailing down his shoulders, arching into the frame of his back. Wanting to feel more, she trailed her hands over his chest, sliding under his coat and encouraging him to shrug it off.

  She felt his grin against her lips as she kissed him. “One moment.” He pulled away slightly, then releasing her fully, he stepped back far enough to remove his coat.

  But in stepping back, his hands were no longer at her back, and Grace was startled to realize that the buttons to the back of her dress were all loose, and her bodice fell forward. She caught it, covering herself only slightly and noted the wolfish grin on her husband’s face.

  She twisted her lips, then couldn’t fight her own grin. “I must say I’m impressed.”

  “You need to set your standards higher, love,” he returned, tossing his coat to the side and then untucking his shirt and discarding it as well.

  Appreciating the view, Grace stepped back as he started toward her, but he paused. Deciding that appreciating the view wasn’t nearly as delightful as caressing the man before her, she reached her hands up the ripples of his stomach, noting the warm texture of his skin as she traveled up toward the planes of his chest into his broad shoulders. Her body hummed with appreciation, and she leaned forward to kiss along his collarbone, gratified when he sucked in a quick breath of pleasure. She continued teasing the skin along his shoulder when a warm hand grasped her shoulder, then flirted with the edge of her dress. She was still holding it in place with one hand. He tugged on the edge of her dress, encouraging her to release it.

  After a moment’s hesitation, she closed her eyes and let it go.

  Breathing against his chest, she felt the gown slip down between them and pool on the floor. Now only her underthings remained, and they were of the softest and thinnest silk, and as such, didn’t hide any secrets.

  “Grace.” He whispered her name, but she kept her eyes closed as she leaned against the warmth of his chest. He bent and kissed her head, lingering there, and then started to pull the pins out. Her hair slowly unwound, draping along her shoulders, covering her enough that she felt enough courage to step back.

  When she dragged her gaze up to meet her husband’s, she nearly gasped at the power of his regard. “So lovely,” he whispered, emotion thick in his voice as he leaned down to rub a lock of hair between his fingers. “I swear you set me on fire, love,” he murmured, then bent down to kiss her, but this kiss was different than all the others. She realized that he had been restraining himself before, but all that restraint was lost, and raw need pulsed through his kiss, filling her with the same urgency.

  His warm hands slid down her hips, removing the underthings, pooling them at her feet. Arching his hands upward, he broke their kiss just long enough to remove her chemise, then captured her lips once more, the urgency creating a fog in all her senses, yet making them clearer all at once.

  The world was in the fog, but Ramsey, he was perfectly clear. It was as if she could see him better than ever before, hear his heartbeat, feel it in her own chest, her body echoing every resounding impulse of his. “Grace,” he whispered against her lips, encouraging her backward, and after a few steps, her knees hit something soft: the bed.

  He guided her onto the soft mattress, but rather than join her, she felt the excruciating sensation of his absence. Her eyes fluttering open, she watched as he disrobed from all his remaining clothing, and before she could fully appreciate the view he presented, he was kneeling beside her, his hands at her shoulders, encouraging her to lie down. His kiss was all the incentive needed, and as he teased her lips, she pressed back against the urgency of his kiss, her hips moving, arching, reaching. Her hands traced up the spine of his back, then spread across the expanse of his broad shoulders. He groaned against her lips as she arched her fingers into his muscles, pulling him closer.

  “You want me,” he whispered, not asking, but stating the words as if he already knew them.

  “Yes,” Grace replied, her body arching as his hand cupped her breast. Good Lord, it was even better than she had remembered. Her body tightened, arched, and her lungs gasped for air. She could feel his smile of pleasure against her lips as he pinched her rosy tip playfully.

  She bucked off the bed in response.

  “I love your breasts,” he told her, then moved his lips elsewhere, to the very spot he mentioned, adoring her breast lovingly with his lips. Grace gasped with pleasure, her body growing tight, her hips arching as her hands dug into his shoulders, his back, his hair, anywhere she could reach.

  “Tell me—”

  “More,” she gasped, finishing his words.

  He chuckled, obeying her command.

  Moving slightly, he covered her with his body, the hard length of him pressing into her hip, then lower, testing, teasing, tempting her.

  “Ramsey,” she gasped, arching against him as he moved his attention to her other breast.

  “Do you want me to do more?” he asked, his tongue swirling against her nipple.

  “Yes.” She arched into his arousal, needing him. Her body was a flurry of need, a bundle of desperation for him. It was as painful as it was pleasant as she waited for the release that she knew he would give her.

  “How much more?” he asked, only his voice was losing its caressing quality, replaced with raw need as he leaned back to watch her.

  “All,” she whispered hoarsely.

  He looked down between them, his fingers trailing along her hip bone till they touched her most sensitive spot, teasing her opening. “Here.”

  “Yes.” And Grace reached down to stroke the hard length of him, hoping her touch was as pleasurable to him as it was to her.

  He gasped, shuddered, and leaned his head against her chest while he pressed into her hand.

  Withdrawing slightly, he gave her a hungry gaze before slowly aligning their bodies. “You want me here?” he asked, pressing his tip into her just slightly.

  It was pleasure that was almost to
o much to bear, but he retreated quickly, leaving her feeling empty. “Yes. More.” She pressed her hands onto his back, trying to pull him in closer.

  “Like this.” His tone was rough, his shoulders tense as he slid in further, then retreated, but this time Grace reached down to grab his rounded buttocks, holding him there. “All of you.” She spoke the words like a demand, like a need, as if they would save her.

  Ramsey obeyed, and upon her wince, paused, but the pain was fleeting as he soon filled her, stroking her innermost parts.

  “Are you well?” he asked, teasing her lips with a shuddering kiss.

  “Y-yes,” Grace replied, arching into him, pulling him in tighter. Now that the pain was gone, all that was left was the need, the red-hot desperate need.

  Ramsey groaned at her reply, moving within her. His long strokes made her gasp in pleasure, her body coiling on top of itself as if about to spring forward.

  “You want all of me?” he asked with a strained tone.

  “Yes.”

  “Inside you?” he demanded, arching into her with a new desperation.

  Grace answered with the cry of his name, her body releasing the tight spring that held her to the earth, exploding her outward as her body pounded with release from deep within. Still soaring on the crest of her release, a new sensation filled her as Ramsey called her name, filling her with everything he had to give. The new sensations sent her back into the pounding rhythm, and she grasped his back, arching into him, pulling him in tight as she gasped for air, as they both gasped in release.

  Soon, as her body cooled, she blinked her eyes open to watch her husband fall back from the same heaven, and right into her arms.

  His tender smile melted her heart anew, and with a gentle kiss to her nose, he slowly rolled to the side.

  Which was the last thing Grace remembered before waking up in the same position.

  Her favorite place, her husband’s arms.