He lifted her hand to his lips and gently caressed her knuckles. When a shiver worked through her entire body, he whispered, “I need you, too, Gia.”
The carriage rocked slightly as the servants disembarked and Gia released his hand, setting hers back in her lap. When the door opened and one of the footmen extended a hand into the rig to help her exit, she sent Dash one last smile. Then she was gone, bustling into the residence, talking to the servants, reuniting with Betsy, who had gone ahead that morning and was already waiting for her.
Dash sighed. He could feel the pull of being parted already. Parted permanently this time, thanks to the role he would take in the government.
And he had never felt so empty.
Giabella looked around the bedroom and drew a sigh of relief. No one could say it didn’t look beautiful, with dozens of lit candles on every surface and a bright fire burning to warm the room. Her bed was turned back, ready for what would come next. And she was in her prettiest nightrail, a beautiful contraption of pale pink silk and lace and perfectly tied bows at her shoulders.
Betsy must have known what she was planning when she helped Giabella prepared the room. She had a sense that the maid was more than aware of all her activities in the last week or so. But she said nothing and simply helped her, then left her to her waiting.
The clock in the hall struck seven and there was a rap on her door at the exact moment. She smiled. Dash, on time as usual. As predictable in that way as the clock itself.
“Come in,” she called, loud enough that it could be heard through the antechamber and the door.
She heard him open it, heard him enter. Her heart began to race as he moved through the other room and then stepped into the entrance of the bedchamber. He came to a sudden halt as he stared at her, standing beside the bed, ready for him.
“My God,” he breathed.
She looked him up and down. He was wearing dark trousers, a crisp white shirt rolled to the elbows and black suspenders, but no waistcoat, no jacket. His lightly graying hair was tousled, like he’d been running his hands through it as he waited for their agreed upon meeting time, but every other part of him was perfectly in place.
He looked utterly delicious.
“That nightgown is…” He trailed off and licked his lips.
She smiled and edged to stand before the fire, where she knew her body would be outlined by the flames through the thin silk. “Do you like it better now?”
“I’ll like it better when it’s rumpled on the floor,” he said, and moved toward her in a few long steps. She met him halfway and they collided, as if they had been kept apart for weeks, not just one night. Their mouths met, hungry and desperate…oh yes, it was desperate, their last night together…and his hands bunched against the back of her gown as she gripped one of his suspenders in her fist.
“We could talk about—” he began.
She shook her head. “No talking. Just taking. Please.”
There was a moment when she thought disappointment flashed in his eyes, but then it was gone, replaced by desire as he pushed her back onto the bed and pushed between her legs. The nightrail bunched between her legs and she gripped his hips with her thighs as he claimed her mouth once more.
His mouth moved down her throat, tracing the line there with his tongue, then lower as he tugged the straps of her nightgown away. She arched into him as he latched his mouth onto one nipple, sucking and swirling his tongue there in a lazy rhythm meant to tease and pleasure her. It worked. She moaned softly, unable to resist as he dropped her back against the mattress. His mouth dropped lower, dampening the silk of her nightdress as he smoothed it along her stomach, her hip. He hitched up the fabric and then he was between her legs.
She lifted against him as he sucked her clitoris, immediately taking her to the edge where he dangled her as he licked and sucked and swirled. She met him stroke for stroke, gripping the mattress edge as he tormented and teased for what felt like an eternity. Only when she was flushed with want, only when she was begging him for release did he give it. He focused his attention on her swollen clitoris, fingering her gently until she came in a gasping cry and twisted against him as the waves wracked her.
When it was over, she caught his shoulders and urged him up, kissing him and tasting her release on his slick lips. “More,” she whispered, whimpered.
He nodded against her and stepped back to remove his clothing. She shrugged from her nightgown and was about to slide from the side of the bed onto the pillows, but he held up a hand. “No, wait there.”
She did as she’d been told, watching as he stripped naked and appreciating every bit of the view. Appreciating it more as he came back to her, his hard cock lifted against his belly. When he kissed her this time, she took him in hand, stroking over and over until he grunted with pleasure.
“Roll over,” he said, breathless.
She arched a brow, but did as she’d been asked. Now she was bent over the edge of the bed and she smiled as what he wanted became clear. She spread her legs wider, going up on her tiptoes to offer the best angle at her body.
He took her in one long stroke, his fingers digging into her hips as he claimed her hard and fast. She burrowed her fingers between her thighs, stroking in time until they both cried out and her orgasm milked him through his.
They collapsed together and lay there for a moment before she laughed. “I think I might not be young enough to hang half off a bed all night.”
“Indeed, neither am I,” he said with a chuckle of his own. He moved away from her and they took their more comfortable place on the pillows, her legs tangled in his, his hand running through her hair gently. After a short while, he drew a long breath. “Are you certain you don’t want to talk about…about everything?”
She squeezed her eyes shut at the question. At the pain it generated. She glanced up at him and their eyes met and held. “What is there to talk about?” she asked. “What is there to say that won’t hurt each other? You said something last night, that these were stolen moments. And I treasure every one of them I got to take. And now we will go to the future, our individual futures, and we’ll never have to wonder what this would have been like. What we missed out on.”
He wrinkled his brow as if he didn’t fully agree with that sentiment, but she felt the surrender in his body language even before he said, “As you wish, Gia.”
It should have made her happy that he wasn’t going to fight her or insist on some long and drawn-out conversation that would only end in more heartache. But she somehow wasn’t. A fight wasn’t what she wanted, but when he didn’t insist upon one, everything felt so final.
He must have sensed it too, because he lifted up a little, staring down at her. “We leave after dawn tomorrow, Gia. And if you’d let me, I’d like to use every moment we have left until then.”
She nodded as she reached up and wound her hand against the back of his neck. “I want nothing less than every single moment we have left, Dash.”
They came together again, this time with more gentleness, with more of a hint of regret behind the passion. And she tried to forget herself in his touch, his kiss, one last time.
CHAPTER 12
The arrival back in the capital was one of great fanfare and celebration, and Dash had to let Giabella go as she made her way through family and friends. He supposed that was always the end of this: letting her go. But watching her now as she stood with King Grantham and Queen Ophelia, talking close about her trip, he had never felt further from her.