Lottie could not cease her kisses with Evander. Each one proof that he was still with her, that he had not gone, that he would be her husband. Her husband.
Mere minutes before, she thought never to see him again, never to hear the timbre of his voice, to relish his vivid stories, witness how his eyes sparkled when they caught hers. Now he was here with her, all of him consuming all of her in the most glorious fashion, a testament to the incredible love glowing between them.
His weight was comfortable against her. More than comfortable, it was titillating. It brought a closeness unlike any other, and proof of his affection for her rose hard and insistent through layers of cloth, where it nudged against her most intimate place.
She had always been a good girl, doing all she was told, never veering from the demanding constraints that framed the life of a vicar’s daughter. Now she gave herself permission to tear through those constraints, granted by the weight of that simple, elegant ring now encircling her finger.
She was to be Evander’s wife.
She kissed him, open-mouthed and bold with the stroke of her tongue. His hands moved from her face down the column of her throat and his lips followed, leaving a trail of sensual heat. He cupped her breast in his hand and his fingers found her nipple through her stays.
Pleasure prickled from his ministrations at her bosom and tingled through her whole body. Before she could acknowledge what she was doing, her hips were rocking against Evander’s weight, nudging his hardness against her soft centre. The action built up a delicious friction that made her yearn to be closer still.
‘By God, you’re the most beautiful woman in all the world,’ Evander murmured against her neck. ‘I love you, Lottie.’
He took her earlobe gently between his teeth as he began to move with her, in a careful flexing rhythm that made him pant in her ear. There was something erotic about being close enough to him that his heavy exhalations sounded in her ear, his face nuzzled against her sensitive skin.
One of Evander’s hands shifted to her hip as they began to undulate in earnest. The column of his desire ground into her and made the hot ache between her thighs almost unbearable.
She needed this. Him. Them together for ever.
Each time she elicited more than a breathy exhalation Evander put his mouth over hers in a kiss meant to muffle the sounds of her excitement.
The brush of his fingertips swept up her calf to just above her knee, where her garters were tied. His caress met her naked thigh and then stopped, hesitating.
Disappointment crashed down on Lottie. They had come too far to stop now. She wanted this man who would be her husband in every way.
She put her hand over his and met his gaze. ‘Make me your wife in body.’
‘God, Lottie.’
He said nothing else as his fingers slowly inched up the hem of her white muslin gown until it tipped over her knees and fell against her upper thighs. His fingertips brushed over the juncture between her legs. She gasped in surprise at the exquisite rush of pleasure, and Evander’s mouth closed over hers as everything around her faded away, her focus fixed on that glorious sensation.
The way he teased her most intimate area elicited cries and moans she could not stifle, sounds that melted between their lips. A strange tightness wound through her body, as if she was on the cusp of exploding.
Evander drew his hand away and worked at his falls, hasty as he unbuttoned the placket of his trousers. She did not see him as he freed his manhood, but she felt its hot, fevered weight as it rested against her sex.
‘Are you certain?’ he gasped.
Lottie looked into his face. His eyes were bright with desire, his cheeks flushed with a need that matched her own. ‘I love you, Evander. I will always love you.’
A muscle worked in his jaw. ‘God, I love you. More than I ever knew possible.’
He shifted over her and their gazes locked on one another as he slowly pressed the hardness of his longing against her entrance. His movements were careful and slow as he pushed in and withdrew, edging further into her each time.
Sweat shone on his brow, evidence of his restraint that was echoed in his trembling body. ‘I think this may hurt.’ He grimaced.
Lottie opened her mouth to ask what he meant when he clasped her hand in his and thrust into her. A sharp pinch cut through the haze of her pleasure and made tears sting her eyes.
He kissed her then, tenderly and with all the affection she’d ever dreamed of. And it was through the immense love between them that the discomfort began to ebb and something far, far more enjoyable took its place.
Their bodies were perfectly fitted together, locked as close as was possible, unified by love. The heat of desire warmed through her and rippled outward, so she was soon hot and panting once more. Evander flexed his hips into her as their pelvises met again and again.
That tightening sensation was back. Too much to bear this time. It squeezed at her awareness until she was trapped by the pressure. When she thought she could stand it no longer, whatever it was snapped, and the most glorious waves of pleasure washed over her in time with Evander’s thrusts.
His pace increased into hard jerks until he stopped suddenly, thrusting deep into her. He gritted his teeth around a groan and his hardness twitched with the same uncontrolled spasm her sex had made during the peak of her release.
They remained where they were for a long moment, savouring their union, basking in the glow of their love, dragging out the last vestiges of bliss from their coupling before he lowered himself over her on his forearms and pressed his brow to hers. Together, their ragged breaths and racing hearts began to even out. The heat between their bodies cooled to a languid warmth and Lottie was struck with the longing to curl her body against his and sleep.
‘I didn’t hurt you too badly, did I, my love?’ Evander lifted his head to regard her.
She shook her head. ‘It was incredible.’
‘I love you, Lottie Rossington, with all my heart.’ He smiled down at her. ‘Soon to be Lottie Murray, my baroness.’
If he said those words to her a thousand times a day she would never grow tired of them. ‘I would listen to you tell me you love me for a lifetime.’
‘I’m happy to hear it, for I plan to tell you every day from here on forward.’ He nuzzled his nose against hers and then his mouth brushed hers. ‘Ready your things, my darling. Tomorrow we will leave at dawn for Scotland, to become husband and wife.’
‘I’ll be ready,’ she promised.
Giddiness tickled through her veins. Tomorrow they would be well on their way to being man and wife. Their joy today a precursor for their happy life together.
And her father would forgive them.
Wouldn’t he?
A shiver of trepidation eased its way down her spine. It was followed by the first whisper of unease in the back of her mind, but she quickly hushed it. With a love such as theirs, nothing could ever go wrong.
Happiness was a ray of sunshine that did not often cast its warmth over Evander. Now the whole of him practically shone with it.
He left Lottie with the ring on her finger and the promise to return the following day. There would be much for him to prepare before their departure. A horse and carriage would need to be arranged, as he could not in good conscience take Lord Ender’s.
And while he was on the topic of Lord Ender, he would need to write to his old chum and settle on a price for the manor in Oxfordshire. Evander had been sincere in his promise to ensure Lottie would always live near her father. A similar note would need to be sent to his father’s solicitor, to procure the necessary funds for purchase.
Evander’s steps were light as he made his way the long distance to Huntly Manor—a journey he gladly took every day for the purpose of seeing Lottie. Indeed, he was nearly buoyant as he made his way up the long flight of steps to the exquisite home.
The butler opened the door before he could even reach for the handle. The man’s mouth was turned down. More so than normal, and he had a propensity to be the dour sort.
‘My lord, you received an express just after your departure.’ He offered a heavy envelope to Evander, with a thick, red wax seal at its centre. ‘I was informed to advise you of its urgency.’
Evander accepted the envelope with a nod of thanks, and waited for the butler to depart before breaking the seal and unfolding the letter.
It contained only two lines, written in his mother’s elegant, looping script.
You must return to London immediately. Your father is dead.