| |
––––––––
December 24, 1810
Christmas Eve night
What a lovely night this has been!
The dancing and socializing and merriment were much better than any she’d ever experienced during her one and only Season in London. Everyone had been in high spirits, and everyone had been so wonderful to each other. Rich or poor, working class or royalty, it had mattered not. Christmas Eve was a time to come together and celebrate love and friendship, which they had all done famously.
Hope still could smell the sharp pine boughs and the cloves in the oranges through the air as she gained the privacy of her bedchamber. Perhaps she’d imbibed on too much rum punch, but it felt as if her feet barely touched the floor as she waltzed herself across the hardwood to the window. Oh, she was drunk on the gaiety of the evening, but she thought that perhaps she was merely inebriated on the duke and how she was beginning to feel about him.
Kicking off her slippers, she rested a palm on the window glass and reveled in the coolness of it against her skin.
Or perhaps it was merely the magic of the night and being happy for the first time in what felt like forever. Because she hadn’t yet lit a candle, she was able to peer into the dark woods beyond the window. It beckoned with whispers and secrets as a fox darted about the naked trees. A slow smile tugged at the corners of her lips, for she suspected the real reason to explain her uplifted mood, and it was both wonderful and concerning.
Stupidly, and like a feathers-for-brains ninny just out of the schoolroom, she was falling in love with the Duke of Denton. Or perhaps infatuation was a better term. Did she want his body, want to be claimed by him, want the unrelenting desire circling hungrily through her insides to stop by only his hand?
Oh, yes. There was no denying that.
However, there was something more there, something additional that added to her confusion each time she was in his company. He was sweet in the way he looked after her, and kind in how he got on with the other people stuck together under this roof. Over the course of the days she’d been with him, he’d changed his thinking, perhaps, on a variety of subjects, and she hoped he would carry that new knowledge with him into the future.
Beyond that, he had given her back faith in humanity. It only took one person to see the light in another, regardless if that light had been extinguished years before. Brook had done that, had sheltered the flickering flame deep in her heart so it had the strength to nurture itself back to life. He’d allowed her to once more see herself as whole, to look past the scars on her body and her heart, and he’d assured her she wasn’t lacking.
To say nothing that she was immediately happier when he was near. She wanted to know everything about him beyond his history of grief. They hadn’t discussed too many other personal things that weren’t connected to death and mourning, but since those topics had essentially bound them together, perhaps it didn’t matter.
Yet knowing what made him excessively angry, discovering what color he favored, finding out what type of work he liked doing in parliament would be a lovely start. Did he long for children? Was traveling something he wished to do? Beyond his aunt in Yorkshire, did he have any other family? Where was his country estate?
For now, none of that was urgent. She had spent many wonderful hours downstairs and had laughed for the first time in far too many months. Not to put too fine a point on it, the whole delay in her trip had given her back the hope she’d lost when her fiancé had written that letter begging off their engagement.
And she would treasure how it felt always.
“Hope?”
Oh, good heavens, he’s here! She hadn’t heard the door open, so lost in thought was she. Turning about, she rested her hands on the window ledge. “Brook.” In his black evening wear and tailcoat, he was easily the most handsome man she’d beheld in the whole of her life. While her fiancé had had rugged good looks, the duke was classically beautiful, like Italian marble statues, related in a roundabout way to royalty yet as approachable as any of those tradesmen and laborers in the common room. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“So I observed.” He stood on the opposite side of the room with the bed between them, and for the first time there was uncertainty, a vulnerability, in his expression that gave her pause. “If you don’t wish to be disturbed, I can go...”
“No!” On this night of all nights, she wanted to be with him. “I was merely woolgathering, thinking about the party. Truly, it was a wonderful evening.”
“Agreed.” He shifted his weight, clearly ill-at-ease. “You are as lovely in that gown as I thought you would be.” Then the duke smiled, and a rush of flutters went through her lower belly. “I was proud to be your escort tonight, glad of the knowledge that every man in attendance thought you were with me.”
“Oh, Brook!” Unwilling or unable to be apart from him, Hope skirted about the bed and threw herself into his waiting arms. She hugged him close. “Thank you for making this holiday stuck in an inn so memorable and wonderful. Without your presence, without knowing you, it would have been a miserable endeavor.” When she peered up into his face, all her doubts and inhibitions fell away. “Never will I forget this week.”
“Neither will I.”
In that moment, they were perfectly aligned, and she wanted him, as much as he would give, but she needed to be with him, the consequences be damned. Lifting up onto her toes, Hope held his head between her hands and kissed him. In this man, she had found acceptance and belonging, and they were exactly what she needed at this time in her life.
The press of his lips to hers, the sure insistence of his hands on her hips then sliding up her back left her gasping, selfishly wanting more.
So much more.
As tiny fires licked through her veins, she pulled away merely to find his gaze in the darkness. “I need you, Brook. Please let me be your wife tonight in all the ways that matter.” It was a bold statement to be sure, but it was how she felt, and she stood by those words.
Those blue eyes deepened into the most perfect sapphire. “Are you certain?” The hand at the small of her back tightened ever so slightly, and already his other hand worked at the buttons on her gown. “Everything will change if we do this, and I did say you should keep your innocence for the man you would marry.” The same desire burning her up from within clouded his eyes. “That is your right.”
“Oh, indeed it is.” Her heart trembled from his consideration. “But I am old enough to know my own mind, Your Grace, and what I do with my body is my decision.” Again, she pressed her lips to his. “I am giving that gift to you. Without coercion, without the expectation of anything from you other than this night.”
For long moments he looked at her, held her gaze, then he nodded. “You have no idea how much I want you, Hope.”
“Oh, I have a fair idea.” One which she would confirm as soon as his breeches came off. “Take me to bed. Show me I am not wrong about you.”
“Ah, sweeting. I think our paths were fated to land here.”
She squealed when he hefted her into his arms, holding her beneath the thighs, then took a few steps until the wall at her back halted further movement. As her heartbeat beat out a wild rhythm, she clutched at his shoulders, wrapped her legs about his waist, and kissed him again, for there was no reason not to. The taste of brandy lingered on his lips, and it only enhanced her need, for it was strong, and sharp, and very masculine.
The duke apparently wasn’t content to let her have all the fun. He swiftly took possession of the embrace, and all too soon his tongue was in her mouth bossing hers, and the kiss took a dive into wicked, heated territory. Friction from the fabric between their bodies rubbed along her sensitive flesh, and she shivered. A barely audible moan left her throat, and Brook chuckled. “I understand all too much.”
Before she knew what he was about, he lifted her once more, and when he gently deposited her on the bed, he followed her down. But he wasn’t done. Oh, no. He covered her body with his, treated her to long, drugging kisses that left her heated and floating in a cloud of passion with need zipping through her bloodstream.
There was simply nothing better than having the weight of a man on top of her. His sandalwood and citrus scent teased her nose. She shuddered with anticipation as his hands glided over her skin as he slowly, oh so slowly, removed her gown, petticoat, shift, stockings, and slippers.
“Damn, you are beautiful.” The appreciative gleam in his eyes as he devoured her naked form with his gaze sent curls of excitement through her belly. “An angel, surely.”
“Do stop, Brook.” Yet she couldn’t recall her grin of pleasure. No more did she try to hide the scarred portions of her body. But she wanted him as nude as she, so they could finally play with conviction. Hope plucked at the buttons on his waistcoat then tugged at his cravat. “Remove them, please.”
“So polite when I half expected a tigress.”
She giggled. “The night is still young, Your Grace.”
“Such a tart mouth on you.” He grinned and followed her command with alacrity. Clothing dropped indiscriminately to the bed and the floor. “Perhaps I should employ it on better endeavors than talking.”
“I am game if you are.” Just thinking about his mouth on various portions of her anatomy caused her to give in to a shiver.
He waited on his knees, merely so she could look her fill at him. Drat his eyes.
“Once upon a time I assumed all dukes were old, stodgy creatures with garlic breath and a stomach pouch.” But not Brook. She couldn’t take her attention from him, and finally she had a glimpse of him sans breeches. His body was lean and muscled like marble statues of Greek gods, but he wasn’t the perfection of those men of legend. In fact, he was better, for he was elegant and honed, muscled as a jungle cat.
“Bah.” When he brushed his knuckles over one of her aroused nipples, he laughed as she moaned. “Now whose turn is it to have perceptions challenged?”
“Touché.” Those broad shoulders alone could bring her to tears, but her mouth watered at the sight of the ridged, chiseled lines of his chest and abdomen. “I would do many things to lick champagne from your naval.” There was no shame in the admission, for they were both here for the same reason. The scattering of blond hair on his chest drew her attention, and with a hand she followed a thin ribbon that went down his body. Dear God, the rampant length of him that sprouted from a nest of blond curls had her gasping even though she’d already tasted that part of him.
“I can ring for some, but I don’t know if this inn has anything that fancy in their cellars.” His grin was genuine as waggled his eyebrows. “Perhaps you would accept brandy?”
“Hardly. I’ll merely content myself with devouring you without accompaniment.”
“That can easily be arranged.” Once more he came over her body, and this time he kissed her as if he had all the time in the world.
Hope didn’t mind, for he was darling in his quest to see her relaxed and comfortable. Everywhere he touched brought out exquisite sensations or sent ripples of awareness sailing over her skin. As best she could, she returned the favor, for she couldn’t have enough of his body. The duke was strong and hard in all the places a man should be, but soft and luscious in others. His warm skin was a lovely contrast to the coolness of the room, and when she dragged her lips along the underside of his jaw, the trace of his stubble ignited her need.
“This is better than I could have dreamed,” she managed to gasp out before a moan stole further words.
“On this I agree with you.” Then he proceeded to kiss and caress every inch of her body. Nowhere was hidden from his notice, not even the burn scars. He explored each one with the same attention he gave the rest of her, and that unwavering devotion brought tears to her eyes. Where her fiancé had used those scars as the reason he couldn’t be with her, Brook included them in his love making, and it made all the difference. With each touch, lick, and nibble, she was lifted higher and higher toward that edge of bliss. Brook’s hot mouth on her breasts, his tongue teasing her sensitized nipples, his talented fingers between her thighs left her moaning and wriggling with excitement. Her body hummed in heightened need. Each time she reached to fondle his member, he batted her hand away.
“Not yet.”
She contented herself by caressing his chest, his shoulders, his back, but her concentration fractured for he was relentless in bringing her pleasure. Slowly, her mind began to shatter. “I cannot survive much more of your torture.”
“That is too bad, for I am not nearly done.” The warmth of his breath skated over her skin as he kissed a blazing path between her breasts while he kneaded those quivering mounds. Down, down, down he went along her torso, over her stomach, past her mons, kissing and licking and nibbling as was his wont. When he put his mouth over the place, the center of her heat where his fingers had just teased, Hope wasn’t prepared. She shook into a million pieces of light. A moan mixed with a slight cry left her throat as she arched her back.
“Merciful heavens, Brook!”
“Hang onto something, love. We are not finished.” He ignored her cries and clutching fingers in favor of drawing out her pleasure with tongue and teeth while he worked at teasing the swollen button at her center. When she tugged on his hair as contractions rocked her core, he lifted his head. His chuckle further heightened her need. “Did you need something else?”
“Oh, you...” She panted but urged his head back to where she wanted him. “There will be paybacks.”
“I don’t doubt it. You are quite determined, but in this I have the upper hand.” With a gleam in his eyes that promised wicked things, Brook resumed his work. His fingers dug into her hips, branding her, holding her steady, and on one particularly enthusiastic series of teasing with his tongue, release caught her up in an unexpected vortex.
“Ah!” She tumbled into the void of white light dappled with rainbows as pleasure washed over her body. How he’d managed to toss her over into bliss so quickly, she had no idea.
“Did you wish to say something?” The question rumbled in her chest as he came back up her body.
“You are horrible, do you know that?” This time she didn’t take no for an answer as she slid a hand between their bodies. As she wrapped her fingers around his straining shaft, a moan escaped him. “What’s good for the goose and all that, Your Grace.” Then she nipped the underside of his jaw while slowly pumping her curled fingers up and down his length.
“Mmm. A worthy opponent.” When he kissed her again, all thought flew out of her mind. She left off with her torture, and as he spread her thighs wider, he fit the wide head of his member to her opening. “Do you want me, Hope?”
“Do you truly need to ask?” She found his gaze in the darkness. A shock of hair had fallen over his forehead that gave him a dashing look. “I have wanted you since the first night we shared this bed.”
“Good.” Yet he didn’t seem in a hurry to claim her. Instead, he threaded their fingers together, pressed her hands to the mattress on either side of her head. “I shall try to make your first time memorable.”
Even in this he was concerned for her. She shifted her body, and as his shaft brushed along her sensitive flesh, she moaned. “Finish me, Brook. I only want you.” Longing coursed through her, made stronger by his delay, and enhanced by anticipation. Forever after, she would finally know what it felt like to be desired by a man.
“Ah, Hope.” He brushed his lips over hers. Then, with a powerful flex of his hips, he penetrated her in a long, smooth glide that didn’t stop until he was fully sheathed. A pinprick of pain followed, and she squirmed, but the discomfort fled. His length filled her, stretched her, was snug into her as if he’d always been a piece of her that was missing.
“Merciful heavens, you feel wonderful.” A sigh shuddered from her. Never in her life had she experienced anything like this. No one had told her how lovely lying with a man would be. Desperate for more of him, Hope canted her hips and took him deeper, and the sensation was so exquisite, another moan escaped. She clung to his fingers. “I cannot think...”
“Then don’t. Just feel.” Brook rested on his forearms as he stroked into her, slowly at first, the thrusts leisurely and tender, leaving no part of her body unclaimed. “You are gorgeous, inside and out, and I am beside myself with the gift you have given me.”
Oh, he was romantic enough, and her heart shivered from his words, but she was too far gone to answer him. Pulling her hands from his, she looped her arms about his broad shoulders and clung to him in an effort to be closer still. Then she wrapped her legs about his waist and kissed whatever part of him she came into contact with as he increased his pace. Over and over, he pushed, harder and harder he moved as if he wished to join them permanently. Deeper and deeper came his strokes.
The rhythm was both calming and energizing. It was quite odd to try and describe, but each time he thrust, fractured shards of bliss streaked through her body. When Hope opened her eyes, it was to find Brook looking at her in wonder. She held his gaze, and for a moment he paused in the claiming of her. They communed without words or movement. Instead, their souls connected and something more precious than anything in the world was exchanged between them. It brought tears to her eyes, and then the moment passed, and he kissed her as if that would be the final time he would see her.
With each pass, the band of need stacking within her grew until she feared she would certainly break apart. A muffled cry left her throat and she wrapped her arms about him all the tighter while the duke’s thrusting grew ever faster and more urgent.
“Brook!”
Release came upon her before she was ready, and it roared with veracity through her already primed system. Hope tumbled and pinwheeled through a field of white, sparkling light where all sound and thoughts were absent. There was only her and him, and it was the most glorious thing. Heated pleasure crashed over her, pulled her down beneath its waves, swept through her body until she bobbed along with it, powerless to resist, never wanting to come up for air. She drowned in it, succumbed to the vortex swirling within and for the second time that night, she fractured into a million pieces.
His chuckle chased the wave. Shortly after, the duke spent with a shout of her name she had no doubts their neighboring roommates would hear if they had retired for the night. Heat sank into her cheeks as his member pulsed. Seconds later, Brook collapsed on top of her. The comforting sound of his ragged breathing filled her ear, but it was the strength of his embrace as he wrapped her in his arms and turned them both onto their sides that helped guide her back to reality.
“This is, by far, the best Christmas I have ever passed.” The whispered statement seemed overly loud for such a hushed and holy night, but she didn’t care. She smiled when he chuckled and nuzzled the crook of her shoulder. Several minutes later, when her breathing returned to normal and the tremors faded, Hope snuggled deeper into his embrace. There were no regrets or worry to be had this night, for in this perfect moment, she was his.
I belong to him.
Her eyelids drooped with exhaustion as she glanced at the window. Big, fluffy snowflakes drifted by the glass, but it wasn’t enough to further delay travel. With a yawn, she shivered from the cool temperature and burrowed beside the duke. In the distance, the sound of church bells rang, announcing the arrival of midnight and Christmas, but Hope merely rested her head on his chest, listened to his breathing, and let herself drift away. Tomorrow, he would find the notebook containing her unfinished manuscript tied with a red ribbon on top of the bureau. It was her Christmas gift to him, but right now, she was quite satisfied with what she’d already been given.
Tears would come later, for this was an aberration. Nothing more. He had never been hers to keep.
