“If you don’t need my assistance, I will return to my room now.”
Chapter Fourteen
She turned to leave, but Nicholas wasn’t ready for her to go. Moving swiftly, he rose and crossed the space separating them to reach around her and close the door before she could escape. She stood there facing the closed door, but her attention was focused on the nearness of his body mere inches behind hers. His hand remained on the door, and now his other hand came up to also press against it, effectively caging her. She couldn’t move. He surrounded her, the heat of his body reaching out to envelop her.
She drew in a shaky breath and turned to face him. She was too close and took a step back, but stopped when her back met the solid wood of the door. She looked up into Nicholas’s eyes. They were darker than normal, almost black. And the heat within them… She shivered, but whether from nerves or anticipation she couldn’t say.
Her breath caught when he lowered his head. In the last moment, just before his lips met hers, he moved his head to the side and brought his mouth against her ear. The warmth of his breath there had a strange effect on her, making her need to be even closer to him.
“Tell me, Louisa, are you here to mother me?”
She shook her head, unable to reply.
“Then why are you here, and dressed only in that.”
Her voice shook when she replied. “I… I heard the chair fall. I wanted to make sure you weren’t ill again.”
He exhaled softly into her ear, causing shivers to riot down her spine.
“You should have stayed safe in your own bed.”
His voice was low with menace, but she knew in that moment the last place she wanted to be was alone in her cold bed. She wanted to be here, with Nicholas. He was mistaken if he thought he was frightening her. Ignoring the small warning voice in her head that told her she risked being rejected yet again, she placed her hands on his chest. He grew unnaturally still. Encouraged, she parted the edges of his dressing gown to reveal he wasn’t wearing a shirt. She could see the rise and fall of his upper body now. His breathing had grown as ragged as hers. Fascinated by the sight of him, and unable to stop now, she pushed the edges farther apart and laid her hands on his bare chest. He was so different from her, broader, his muscles solid beneath her touch.
She moved her hands up to his shoulders, then back down, and he was still under her caress. The dressing gown was fully open now and she saw that he still wore his trousers. The fact that he hadn’t pushed her away lent her added courage, and she moved lower to trace the well-defined muscles of his abdomen. She wondered how far she would have to go before Nicholas either pushed her away or finally took her to his bed.
Stealing herself for his rebuff, she trailed her hands lower. When she reached the edge of his trousers, he stopped her by taking hold of her wrists. He’d pulled back and was staring down at her, his expression unreadable. She inhaled sharply when she noticed tightness of his jaw and the sheen of sweat on his brow.
“Are you not well?”
It was a moment before he spoke. “No.”
She licked her lips and noticed, again, that his gaze was drawn to the small movement.
“Will you allow me to help you? Or would you rather I summon someone else to care for you?”
He continued to stare at her, his body completely still, and she began to wonder if he was going to collapse. When he finally spoke, it took her a moment to realize what he was saying.
“I think this is something only you can help me with.”
He brought her arms up to encircle his neck. Unable to believe what was happening, she clung to him when he released his hold. A thrill of anticipation went through her when he cupped her face in his hands.
“I’m not strong enough to send you away again. I need you to be strong enough for the both of us.”
She shook her head. “Not tonight, Nicholas. Not ever again.”
He groaned and closed his eyes briefly, as though in pain, before bringing his mouth down on hers. She could taste the alcohol on his breath, but no longer cared that he’d been drinking. She was intoxicated herself on the heady knowledge that Nicholas would not be denying her. That he’d actually admitted wanting her.
He was gentle at first. His thumbs stroked along the line of her cheeks while his lips sipped from hers. Instead of worrying about her husband, she now feared her own legs would give way and she would be the one to collapse. She clung to his neck and pressed herself against him.
His hands left her face and settled on her waist. She sighed at the delicious feel of his hands caressing her there through the thin fabric of her nightgown before moving higher.
“Tell me to stop, Louisa,” he said against her mouth.
“No,” she said with a sound of denial. “Please. Don’t stop.”
She found herself pressed against the door, his hands covering her breasts. He cupped their weight and his thumbs drew maddening circles around her nipples. She gasped and his tongue surged into her mouth, deepening their kiss. She made a soft sound of encouragement and pushed herself more firmly into his hands.
His fingers stilled, then his hands moved up to her shoulders. He raised his head to look down at her and she could see the dark desire reflected in his eyes. He took a deep breath, and for a moment she panicked, certain he was going to push her away again. Instead, his fingers caught the edges of her nightgown and he began to trail the garment down her arms. Mesmerized, she could only stare at him as he took in the progress of the near-transparent material sliding down her body. When it moved past her breasts, she saw the tic of a muscle along his jaw. She stood unmoving as he released the material and it fell to the floor with a soft whisper. She was afraid to move, almost afraid to breathe, lest this moment turn out to be a cruel dream from which she would soon waken.
He stood still as well, staring down at her. Then, as though he had finally decided this moment had always been inevitable, he bent and scooped her up in his arms. Feeling more than a little self-conscious, she buried her face in his shoulder as he carried her to the bed, acutely aware of her skin pressed against his bared chest. He lowered her gently onto the bed and stepped back to stare down at her. Lying before him without a stitch of clothing, she felt as though she just might expire from embarrassment.
“Nicholas,” she said, a sense of urgency coursing through her.
He must have known what she wanted. She watched in silence as he shrugged out of his dressing gown, his movements reflecting her own sense of urgency. He unbuttoned the fall of his trousers and stepped out them and the smallclothes he wore, and now it was her turn to stare as he stood naked before her.
He was everything she was not. Hard where she was soft, dark where she was light. Her gaze moved quickly over that one part of him where he was most different, but she did see him and wondered if the consummation of their marriage was going to be very painful. She refused to dwell on that thought, however. This was something she had wanted for what seemed like forever.
He lowered himself onto the bed, his body over hers, but not yet touching. His head dipped and his mouth covered hers. Relief and desire sweeping through her, she brought her hands to his shoulders and clung to him, returning his kiss with an increasing fervor of her own. He closed the space between their bodies, and she gasped at the feel of his warm skin on hers. His muscled chest pressed against her breasts and that most intimate part of him brushed against her thigh. Nothing had ever felt so wonderful.
His mouth left hers and he trailed a line of kisses down her throat. He continued downward until his lips covered her breast. He drew on her nipple, and she could feel the pull of his mouth straight down to her core.
One hand covered her breast, and the other began a slow, agonizing movement up the inside of her thigh. She squirmed below him, the riot of sensations almost too much to bear.
His mouth moved back to her throat while his hand continued its inexorable movement. She tensed for a moment, then opened her legs as his hand reach
ed the juncture of her thighs. Shock froze her when he touched her there. He parted her with his fingers and started a slow back-and-forth movement that soon made her forget her embarrassment. He lifted his head to look down at her as he slid a finger deep inside her.
She wanted to reassure him, to tell him she was fine, but in truth she wasn’t. She shifted restlessly below him while he continued, first one, then two fingers moving inside her while his thumb circled a point of almost-painful sensitivity outside.
She moaned and brought his head back down to kiss him.
“Come for me, Louisa,” he said against her mouth, increasing the pace of his stroking.
And then everything flew apart for her. She gasped in surprise, but he caught the sound with his mouth. His hand left her then and she made a soft sound of disappointment. He clasped her knees and widened her legs farther so he could settle himself between them.
“I can’t wait,” he said, his voice tight with the strain of holding back.
She laid a hand on his cheek. “I want this, too.”
His arousal nudged her swollen sex and instinctively she moved her hips so she could feel him more fully. There was nothing in the world but Nicholas as he started to push inside her. Her body opened to accept him. She had forgotten she was supposed to fear her first time with a man, but the sharp stab of pain reminded her.
She stiffened, her fingers sinking into the muscles of his upper arms as he seated himself fully within her. Seeing her discomfort, he stopped.
“I’m sorry,” she said, fearing she’d disappointed him.
“It’s fine, Louisa. Here, let me…”
He brought his hand between them and began, again, to stroke that sensitive point just above where their bodies were joined. His mouth captured hers in a heated kiss that made her forget the pain as her blood began to heat anew.
She made a soft sound of distress when he removed his hand again and began to pull out of her, afraid that he would stop now out of concern for her. When he surged back into her, however, she could have wept with joy. The pain had lessened to a dull ache, and that, too, became a distant memory as she delighted in the glorious sensation of being filled by him over and over. She moved with him, matching his thrusts, and he murmured his assent.
“Louisa.” He lifted his head and looked down at her again, his eyes reflecting the depth of his passion.
The pace of his thrusts quickened, and feeling as though she were spinning out of control, she wrapped her legs and arms around him. She had never imagined such pleasure was possible.
This time when she reached her peak, she called out his name and took him with her.
* * * * *
Louisa woke the next morning with a smile on her face. Murmuring her husband’s name, she rolled toward him. She frowned when she realized she was back in her bedroom. It took her a moment before she remembered waking at one point during the night to find herself in her husband’s arms as he carried her back to her room. But he hadn’t left her there. He’d joined her in her bed and, despite the fact she’d felt a little tender, they’d made love again.
She stood and reached for her dressing gown to cover her, remembering that her nightgown was still in Nicholas’s room. She crossed to the door that connected her room to his, briefly wondering if it was a bad sign that the door was closed. Pushing aside her doubts, she opened the door and entered his bedroom. She blushed when her gaze caught that of the maid who was changing the sheets on her husband’s bed. The telltale stain of her blood on the sheets caught her eye and it was all she could do to hide her embarrassment. Soon the whole household staff would know that she and Nicholas had not made love until last night.
“Did Lord Overlea go down to breakfast?”
“No, my lady,” the maid said with a curtsey. “He went out to the stables.”
She thanked the young woman and went back to her room. She wondered if Nicholas had decided to go back to ignoring her. If he had, he was going to have to fight her every step of the way because she would no longer allow him to push her away.
* * * * *
Nicholas’s head ached from having consumed too much brandy the night before, but the pain was nothing when compared to what he experienced during one of his attacks from his illness. He made his way to the stables where one of the grooms approached immediately, but Nicholas waved him off, telling him he would saddle Zeus himself. He needed to keep busy. To try not to think about the horrendous error in judgment he had made the previous night.
He tried to focus on the task at hand. As he brushed the horse, however, his thoughts drifted to memories of running his hands over Louisa’s delectable body. He gritted his teeth and firmly pushed the thoughts away. He made quick work of saddling Zeus and securing his bridle, forcing himself to concentrate on the task at hand.
Once he mounted Zeus, however, his thoughts were free to wander, and wander they did. Right back to his wife.
He urged his mount into a gallop, ignoring the pounding in his head. By some miracle he hadn’t suffered an attack last night. He couldn’t say why, but he vowed not to take such reckless chances in the future. His drinking had, however, erased his resolve to stay away from Louisa. He laughed out loud at that thought, recognizing there was no point in lying to himself. He’d known full well what he was doing the whole time he was with her. He’d known he should have stopped, but he hadn’t wanted to. Like the weak, selfish bastard he was, he’d taken what she offered, and now he had to deal with the knowledge that his actions could very well have resulted in Louisa conceiving an heir who was doomed to inherit his family’s illness.
He was tempted to keep riding all the way back to London, but he couldn’t do that to Louisa. After returning Zeus to the stables and walking around to the front of the house, he was surprised to see his cousin’s carriage driving away and quickened his pace. It was far too early for a social call. He didn’t think Edward was foolish enough to harass his wife or his sister-in-law in their own home, but he couldn’t be certain. Not in light of the fact that his cousin had threatened vengeance the last time they’d spoken.
He breathed easier when the footman informed him that Miss Mary Manning had been there with her maid. Mary was annoying, but she was also harmless. He headed for the stairs, intending to bathe and change, when he overheard Catherine’s voice coming from the breakfast room.
“I was surprised to find them together.”
For a moment he feared she was referring to Louisa and Kerrick, but recognized the fear was a foolish one. Still, curiosity had him changing direction and heading for the breakfast room.
He found Catherine and Louisa alone, the remains of their breakfast on the table before them. Louisa turned her head and his stomach clenched as their eyes met and held. She was lovely, as ever. Her hair was pinned up in a modest arrangement, her clothing demure, but all he saw when he looked at her was the woman he’d made love to last night. Color crept into her cheeks and he knew she, too, was remembering. He wanted to take her hand and spirit her upstairs. It would be far more enjoyable to have her, rather than his valet, help him in his bath. His body tightened in response to the thought.
He realized he was acting like a lovesick schoolboy around her. If he wasn’t careful, he’d soon find himself penning love sonnets to her.
Since neither he nor Louisa seemed capable of speech at that moment, it was Catherine who spoke first.
“You look well this morning. Did your ride agree with you?”
He replied, but he was looking at Louisa when he did so. “It was most enjoyable.”
Her eyes widened slightly when she realized the double meaning behind his words and she looked away. Nicholas tore his gaze from her and looked at Catherine, who was sporting a large smile. She must have sensed that his and Louisa’s relationship had changed, and it was clear she approved.
He had to force his thoughts back to their visitor. “I saw my cousin leaving. Why was she here?”
It was Louisa who replied. “She
invited us to dinner this weekend.”
He frowned. “Was there a reason why she extended the invitation in person?”
“She didn’t say, but perhaps your aunt believes we’d be more likely to accept if Mary delivered the invitation. It was most curious, especially when her maid disappeared for a few minutes.”
He raised a brow. “Disappeared?”
“You won’t believe it,” Catherine said, leaning forward and warming to the subject. “Mary’s maid was alone with your valet.”
“Harrison?” Nicholas couldn’t have been more surprised. “Are you certain?”
“Oh, yes. They were at the back of the house and didn’t realize I was in the conservatory.” Her voice lowered as she continued. “She gave him something. I think it was a love letter.”
Nicholas couldn’t say why, but he was concerned about what his sister-in-law had just told him. Harrison had been behaving strangely of late. His valet knew there was no love lost between Nicholas and his aunt and cousins, however, so it would make sense that he would hide the fact he was having a relationship with one of their servants. Nicholas didn’t make a habit of meddling in the affairs of his staff, though, and tried to shrug off his unease at Catherine’s news.
“It is a beautiful morning today, is it not?”
He turned to find Kerrick standing in the doorway. To Nicholas’s great annoyance, Kerrick walked up to Louisa and took her hand.
“You look even lovelier than usual this morning,” he said, bowing over her hand.
Louisa blushed and Nicholas’s palms itched with the desire to remove the smile from his friend’s face. He watched in silence as Kerrick greeted Catherine in a similar manner before turning back to Louisa.
“Despite Nicholas’s desire to bury himself in work, I have had a wonderful stay. I hope it hasn’t been too inconvenient that my stay has been a long one?”
Louisa smiled with fondness at him, and Nicholas’s annoyance grew.
Loving the Marquess (Landing a Lord Book 1) Page 17