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William’s eyes closed tightly, and he pulled her into his arms. Groaning, he held her close. “I’ve missed you, Bea. God, how I’ve missed you. Can you forgive me?”
“Yes,” she whispered, trembling. In ten years, never before had William held her like this. When her niece Diana died, he had held her while she cried. They had embraced in joy over their children. But never had they simply held each other as man and woman, and it felt like paradise.
When he realized she was crying, he stroked the tears from her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for what I’ve done.”
She pulled back to look at him, laughing. “I’m not crying because I’m sad, William—not anymore. I’m crying because I’m so happy!”
Eyes widening, he shook his head. “A decade of marriage, and I’m learning about you still.”
Serious again, she took his hand from her cheek and brought it over her heart. “I want you to learn even more about me, William.” Her gaze on his, she tugged his hand down further, until he took over, cupping her breast on his own.
Moaning, he brought his other hand up to smooth over her, too. “Promise me something.” His thumbs circled her nipples. “If I err again, tell me. The last thing I want to do is misunderstand and hurt you. Scare you. Disgust you.”
“I promise.”
His lips pressed against her forehead for the first time in a long time, and it stole her breath. That touch was so small compared to what else she wanted from him, yet it meant everything. He didn’t stop this time; he slowly kissed across to her temple, down over her cheek, and to her mouth.
His lips hovered over hers, their breath mingling. “May I kiss your mouth?” he asked.
After a hungry noise, she kissed him. He held her face and took over, exploring her mouth with the kind of reverence and thoroughness that felt almost too good to be true. His taste drove her wild, and he seemed not to be able to get enough of hers.
She wanted all of him, all over her, in her—now. Their kiss and touches had started tentatively, but soon their hands and tongues were greedy.
“I want to take your gown off and taste your breasts,” he said darkly against her neck, teeth nipping. “I want to see you with nothing else on.”
Shuddering, she slipped her palm down to cover his arousal. Thick and hard behind his trousers, he filled her hand, sending jolts of sensation between her thighs. “I want to seeyouwith nothing on. To hold you in my hand. For you to”—she shivered—“use your finger gently between my legs. To touch me as I touch myself.”
William maneuvered her to the edge of her bed, where she sat. He lifted the hem of her wrapper, breathing harshly. “God, I don’t know what to do first. There are so many things…”
He kneeled, and the sight of his dark-blond hair between her knees was unbearably beautiful. “Oh, William,” she breathed, drawing up the skirt of her wrapper. She wore only her drawers underneath; with a gasp, she felt him spread open the unsewn petals of overlapping fabric, exposing her.
“From here on out”—his forefinger trailed down the seam of her labia—“I dedicate myself to your needs. Your desires.” The blunt tip of his finger slid into her, stroking her clitoris.
Her moans blended into his, and she fell back onto the bed, thighs opening wider for him.
A knock rattled her chamber door.
Go away!she thought desperately, prepared to ignore it.
“My lady,” said a muffled voice. “The Dowager Marchioness has called. She’s downstairs.”
∞∞∞
More than frustration filled William at the news of his mother’s arrival; utter dread seeped through him. With certainty, he knew her presence bore no possibility of a good outcome. It was not Lady Sabrina Dalfour’s habit to rise so early, nor to call spontaneously. In truth, even her planned visits could not be said to be pleasant.
Is it Augustus?Had his brother been injured or killed in the line of duty?
Bea stayed behind in her chamber to change into a day gown in light of their visitor, but before he left her, he kissed her lips lightly. “I’m sorry for the interruption.”
“We’ve waited ten years.” Her smile looked forced, and William recognized her usual determination to be cheerful. “We can wait for tonight.”
Unease seized him further when he greeted his mother in the dining room, finding her unusually chipper and wearing a mint-colored gown.
“Ofcourseall is well!” she replied to his expression of concern. “Surely, you don’t see me only as a harbinger of ill! I simply woke early today and decided I must see you and my dear grandchildren. It has been too long.”
If only I knew which defenses to fortify, he thought, wondering from which direction her attack would come.
Observing him carefully, she huffed indignantly at his lack of reaction. “Very well, if you must know, thereisa reason for my call. I’m proud of you. I’ll have you know that I read about you in the paper this morning—your achievements with the Corrupt Practices Act. I am mother to a most distinguished lord! You are Britain’s champion, William.”
