Sweet heaven, she was amazing. He pushed in deeper. She arched as she surrounded him in wet heat. And when her heels gripped the back of his thighs, he couldn’t hold back any longer.
He thrust inside and felt her maidenhead give way. He heard her gasp as her head arched back, and her fingers gripped his shoulders hard. He stilled. Of course, he stopped. She needed the time, so he waited, not even fully seated. He held himself frozen until he felt her relax. Her breath deepened, and her legs softened around him.
“Amber?”
“There is more, yes?”
“Yes.”
He thrust until he was fully inside. She moaned, but this time, not in pain. This time her lips curved in delight. A few moments later, he began to move. The slide of her body around his was like heaven. The smile on her lips as he thrust was incredible. And then she met him with his next pump. She arched into his movement and cried out in delight.
It was like a dam broke inside him. All the passion he held back, all the restraint that had been burned into him since childhood, gave way. He spread her legs wider and thrust deep, claiming her with every movement. He buried himself and jerked against her. He rammed inside and rolled his hips. It was all he could do for her in this maelstrom of need. Everything he knew to bring her to completion again before he lost himself in his own delight.
Her body gripped him. A hot rhythm of hunger that milked him. He gave her everything. He spilled his seed, pouring into her as he steeped in wonder. Wave after wave rolled through him and into her. Heaven.
He fell sideways and gathered her into his arms. He barely had breath but managed to kiss her shoulder and the curve of her neck. She stroked his back and into his hair.
And in that moment, as they touched each other, he knew he had lost his heart to her. She was the woman he loved. The woman for him always. And no matter where country and duty took him, she would be the one to whom he returned.
“I love you,” he whispered.
“I love you,” she answered.
They held each other late into the night.
When the storm stopped and the clouds parted enough to show the rosy glow of dawn, he roused himself. He scooped her up in his arms and carried her to her bedroom.
He would not disgrace her yet. He would not own her as his mistress yet. That would come soon. For now, he would try to keep her honor intact. So, he kissed her one last time and crept back into the anonymity of his own bedchamber, where he sat and planned for the future.
Chapter Twenty
Amber relished the trip home. It wasn’t just the warm looks that kept passing between her and Elliott. She realized that soon she would have a home of her own. After all, she couldn’t be Elliott’s mistress and still live with her father and grandfather. Where would it be? How would it work?
A few of the upstairs ladies had gone this route. It was considered a grand achievement, and many of the girls talked incessantly about what they’d do once it happened for them. She would have plenty of ready advice back at the Lyon’s Den, but that was nothing compared to the practical know-how that came from Mrs. Hopkins.
The good housekeeper thought she was asking about her married future with Mr. Jupp. It didn’t matter. Maintaining a household was the same, whether for a wife or a mistress. So Amber asked, and Mrs. Hopkins gave good advice, and their discussion made the time pass quickly. As did the sweet way Elliott kept looking at her. Sort of like a bewitched boy but with a man’s hunger sparking the depths of his eyes. It warmed her deep inside. And she was sure she gave him equally delighted looks back.
Sadly, her mood changed once they arrived at Diana’s home. There were things to do and people to apprise of her decision. While Mrs. Hopkins hurried downstairs, Elliott leaned down to whisper in her ear, and Amber felt a tingle rush down her spine in excitement for the words he was about to say.
“How soon can the brooch be completed?”
Well, that was not what she’d expected. She’d been hoping he’d say, “I love you,” again. But Elliott was a practical man and not prone to sweet words. She’d known that from the beginning. “A day,” she answered.
“Can your father do the metalwork without you?”
“Yes.”
He made a satisfied sound. “I’ll take the wax directly to him. And then I can force the vote tomorrow afternoon.”
She smiled, seeing the way the sunlight gleamed in his hair and that his eyes shone bright. But he wasn’t looking at her. His thoughts were on the schedule of his day.
“I missed this morning’s meeting with Mr. Jupp, but maybe that’s for the best.” He focused on her. “Can you send him a missive informing him that you two will not suit?”
She nodded. “I will tell him that my heart lies elsewhere.”
His brows pulled together in a slight frown. “That may not be the best way. Hearts don’t factor into a society marriage.”
Her mouth twisted into a grimace. Marriage in the upper crust sounded like a jail sentence. She was choosing the right path. “I will say that we will not suit one another.”
“That’s better,” he said with a nod. “And then I’ll send round my apologies and indicate that your choices have taken you elsewhere.”
She looked up, hoping that now she would feel the warmth of his gaze. And even though he could not kiss her in the open, she would feel it in a quick caress of his hand or something like that. But he didn’t. Instead, his thoughts had jumped elsewhere.
“Where will you be? Do you stay with my sister?”
She disliked lying to a woman who had become a friend. And she would not stay here if it might damage Diana’s reputation for housing a courtesan. “I will go home. You can find me in the Lyon’s Den.”
His face tightened. “I do not like you in that place. Where will you sleep?”
“There are extra beds above the main den. The upstairs girls all sleep separately from where they work.” Then she sighed. “Plus, I have to tell my father.”
His eyes widened in alarm. “Your father—” His expression tightened as he realized he, too, would have to face the consequences. Her father would not be pleased. In truth, the idea of explaining this to him horrified her. He was not likely to understand, but it had to be done. Her family was too important to her.
“How angry will he be?”
She looked down. “Very. But I will handle it.”
“Will he destroy the brooch in anger?”
Maybe. “If he does, I will refashion it.”
Elliott looked grim, but he nodded. “I could take you there now. We could do this together.”
It was sweet that he wanted to spare her. “I cannot go there immediately. I must make my goodbyes to your sister.”
His eyes narrowed a moment, not in anger, but in discernment. “You are going to tell her as well.”
She nodded. If they were to do this—become master and mistress—then the people they loved should know.
He shook his head. “That is not the way this is usually done.”
“I have always forged my own path.”
He exhaled. “Perhaps I should talk to Diana first.”
Since he had not touched her, she squeezed his arm. “No. Go get the brooch started so you can get the votes you need. That is more important.”