She waited for the telltale dip of the bed, the rustle of bedclothes, but it never came.
When sound finally emerged it was his voice, and it was all too close.
“Eliza.” He breathed her name, and her eyes flew open.
He’d moved to the side of the bed where she huddled, the bedclothes clutched at her chest. He leaned over her, large and looming, but he didn’t touch her anywhere. Yet she could feel his heat, anticipate what it was like to feel his weight atop her.
He sat carefully on the bed as if he were afraid of hurting her, and when he leaned forward, he captured her between his arms as he rested against the bed on his outstretched arms.
“Eliza, I want to make this better for you, but I need you to tell me what you like and what you find unpleasant. Can you do that?”
She nodded because she couldn’t speak. She was overwhelmed by a feeling of safety when he leaned over her like that, as if she were cocooned and protected within his arms.
He shifted on to one hand, drawing his other up to run a single finger down her cheek.
“Now I seem to recall you enjoyed kissing. Is that true?”
Again, she nodded, transfixed by the darkness of his eyes.
His finger stopped just under her chin, and he tilted her head up just a little before he captured her lips in a gentle, coaxing kiss. Her head came off the pillow following the taste of him, and he laughed softly against her lips.
“I guess you do enjoy that,” he said, never breaking the kiss.
She didn’t know what to do with her hands, but she very much wanted to touch him. She wrenched away instead, gasping for air.
“I’d like to touch you.” She hadn’t meant to say that, but, well… “The last time I touched you, you appeared not to like it. Can you tell me what I did wrong so I may try to be better?”
His eyes clouded over at her words, and she feared she’d made another mistake.
“I’m sorry. Please. You mustn’t. I can just lie here and be quiet.” She rushed the words one after the other should he have time to regret fulfilling their bargain.
Her grip on the bedclothes became lethal, and she tried to sink back into the pillows as far as they’d let her.
He released a sigh and leaning forward, gently set his forehead against hers.
She’d done something wrong again.
She dared not breathe let alone move, and she waited for him to get up and leave. Fear rattled her more than humiliation. She couldn’t be the reason she remained childless. She just couldn’t.
“Dax.” She said his name as if it might be the last thing she ever spoke.
He stilled above her, and she swore she could feel his heartbeat vibrating through her. The tension was palpable between them, and her chest tightened in despair.
Please don’t leave.
“We’re going to try something else.” He stood so quickly the bed bounced, and she scrambled to keep herself together.
A pillow fell on her head, and she shoved it away. The bed moved again, and this time her husband had slipped between the covers. She expected him to stop on the opposite side of the bed as he had done previously, but this time he didn’t. He slid directly over to her and without stopping, gathered her into his arms. Her cheek met the solid wall of muscle that was his chest as his arms closed around her. One hand kept her firmly pressed against him while the other speared her hair, drawing her even closer.
And it felt magnificent.
She’d never been held this way by anyone, never cradled so completely. She could almost believe he didn’t mind holding her so. His heart beat beneath her cheek, and the rise and fall of his chest was hypnotic. She slipped one hand out, unable to resist touching him, and found his skin hot to the touch.
“Eliza, I think it would be best if you understood it would take a great deal of effort on your part to do something wrong in this situation.”
His fingers massaged the back of her head, and once more, sleep threatened her.
“It would?” she whispered.
Absently, her fingers began to explore, traipsing through the mat of chest hair to find each individual rib.
“It would.” His voice wasn’t so certain now, and she lifted her head to peer at his profile.
He was just as gorgeous from this angle as any other. She ran her hand lower, found the dip of his stomach and the bones of his hips until her fingers collided with the waist of his trousers.
“You’re still clothed.” She didn’t know why this bothered her, but it did.
“So are you,” he returned.
That was the truth.
“Should I not be?” She’d never before been this bold in her life, but curiosity appeared to outweigh her insecurities.
He groaned. “No, you should not, but I won’t make you do anything you’re not ready for.”
She pulled away from him and before she could think of it further wriggled out of her nightdress. Her back was to him as she tossed the garment aside, so it wasn’t as if he saw anything but her bare back and even then, her long hair tumbled down the length of it.
Her arms automatically went to cover herself, but she wanted to take in his expression. Before she could finish turning, he sat up, gripping her shoulders, and holding her in place.
“Don’t.”
Just one word, spoken so deeply, so gutturally, it arrested her completely.
Her hands lay folded against her chest, and she stared at the glowing outline of the fire as his hands traced her shoulders, the line of her back. Her body tightened in places she didn’t know were possible, and she bit her lip to keep back a whimper.
“Oh God, Eliza.” He said each word with reverence. “I’ve thought of this for so long.”
She blinked, her attention coming into sharp focus.
He’d thought of this? He thought of…her…like this?
His hands were in her hair again, lifting it from her shoulder to replace it with his lips. Now she did whimper as he seared kisses along the curve of her shoulder, the expanse of her neck.
“Dax.”
The tension coiled hotter within her, and she knew something must be happening. Something must happen.
He shifted against her, one arm coming up, his hand exploring. She cowered, realizing he’d discover just how inadequate she was. But when his hand closed over her breast, he buried a deep groan into the side of her neck.
Her lady parts clenched.
Heavens, what was he doing to her?
She looked down at his hand, mesmerized by the way it toyed with her nipple, rolling it so expertly between his fingers. She moaned, grabbing Dax’s hand and pinning it against her.
“Dax, I feel—”
But she couldn’t finish the sentence. She didn’t know what she felt, only that it was growing, and soon it would be unbearable.
“I know,” he growled and turned her, capturing her lips in a kiss that sent fire through her belly.
Oh God, she was going to explode. She lost his hand somewhere as he spun her back on the mattress, his weight deliciously crushing her into the mattress. Her nipples tensed at the friction his chest hair caused as he moved along her body, and she bucked, arching her chest into him for more.
“Dax.” It was the only word she could manage because she didn’t know how to tell him…tell him that she liked…this.
His mouth burned a line of kisses along her jaw, down her throat, nipping at her collarbone. She bucked again, her hips driving into him, and she felt…everything. He was hard against her, and a thrill shot through her, knowing she had done that to him.