“I’ve always wondered what that felt like.”
He sucked in a breath. “What what felt like?”
“A man’s beard. I’d always wondered. All the wallflowers used to speak of it.”
He swallowed. “Oh?”
She nodded, her hair tickling the underside of his chin. “When you know you’ll never have something, it’s hard not to think of it. Every wallflower imagines what it would be like. To have someone. To not be so alone.”
He didn’t want to keep having this conversation. He didn’t want to hear about the life Eliza imagined. He didn’t want to hear the echoes of her loneliness. He didn’t want to fall that much more in love with her.
“What did you imagine?” The question was hardly a whisper, escaping his lips before he could stop it.
Again, she shook her head. “I didn’t. I couldn’t bear to think about what I would never have.”
He captured her wandering hand and turned, pivoting until he was atop her, and he had her hand pinned above her head. Her eyes opened fully, and what he saw there ended him.
Longing. Disbelief. Acceptance. And the worst of all, hope.
“Eliza.” Her name was an oath just before he bent his head and kissed her.
It wasn’t like any of the kisses they’d shared before. That had just been physical. This was so much more. He poured everything he had into the kiss, everything he could give her and everything he was afraid to.
She struggled against his grip, and he let her go. Her arms came around him with a ferocity that tightened his chest, and he pulled her even closer. He savored her, worshiped her, deepening the kiss until she moaned against his lips.
He hadn’t meant for anything more, but then she entwined her legs with his, running a heel up his calf.
He tore his mouth from hers. “Eliza.” He saw the hurt that flashed in her eyes, and he knew she once again thought she’d done something wrong. He cradled her face in his hands. “Every time you touch me I can’t bear it. Do you understand that? Your touch sets me on fire.”
Her eyes widened, and her lips parted. “It…does?” The hesitancy in her voice broke his heart, and he dipped his head, capturing her lips once more.
“Let me show you.”
He found her still wet, and adjusting ever so much, he slid inside of her. He closed his eyes against the sensation, gritted his teeth until he was in danger of breaking a tooth.
“God, Eliza. You torment me.”
When he opened his eyes again, he found that mischievous smile once more on her face.
“You’re enjoying this,” he accused her, and of all possible miracles, she laughed, the sound soft and wholesome, and he could not for the life of him think of another time in which he’d laughed while making love to a woman.
But he’d never before made love to a woman like his wife.
He growled and kissed her again as he began to move. Like before, she arched against him, and it took all his strength not to come immediately. He wanted her to enjoy this. He wanted her to know what love really was.
The thought sent shivers down his spine, but all too quickly, they dissipated, leaving him with only the sheer knowing that he wanted this more than anything.
He couldn’t hold on. She was so tight and clung to him in undulating caresses. He reached a hand between them and found her sensitive nub. He flicked it, and when she cried out against his mouth, he soothed it with a gentle stroke.
This time she broke the kiss.
“Dax.” His name was a question and a declaration all at once.
He stroked her again as he quickened his pace. Her body coiled around him, and it was as if he could feel the anticipation of her release, and it was too much.
“Eliza.” The word carried with it the last of his restraint, and he let go.
When she came, it was too much, and he lost himself in the waves of pleasure that washed through her and thus through him.
He tried not to crush her when he collapsed, but her arms had tightened around him and pulled him closer. He shifted, falling to the pillow beside her and dragging her into the crook of his arm to keep from breaking her hold on him.
He didn’t know why, but he wanted to hold her now. Never before had he lingered after the sexual act, but he was coming to understand things would be different with Eliza, and right then, the county militia couldn’t have ordered him from the bed.
“Dax.” Her voice was tentative, and alarm coursed through him.
“Yes?”
“Dax, is it always…” In the pause, he filled the sentence with any number of things he feared she may end it with, but then she said, “Is it always like that?”
He smiled against the top of her head.
“No.” He spoke the word with an assurance he didn’t realize until he felt it escape him. “Only with you,” he said.
He could feel her smile against his neck, and she snuggled closer to him, sending his heart into a spiral dive.
“Then I’m very glad you removed your trousers.”
He couldn’t help it. He laughed.
Chapter 10
When she woke, the bed was empty beside her, and she allowed a terrifying moment of insecurity to swamp her. She sucked in a breath and pushed the hair from her eyes, scanning the empty room around her.
Completely empty.
Henry was gone as well.
Insecurity was replaced with curiosity.
She turned to the bank of windows on her left and saw the edges of the drapes outlined in yellowy sunshine. She scrambled out of the bed only to realize she was utterly naked when her bare feet hit the floor. She spun around, trying to find her dressing gown while also trying to shield her more private bits. Whom she was shielding herself from she wasn’t sure, but an inordinate surge of modesty suddenly overcame her.
Finding her dressing gown, she slipped inside of it and tightened the belt more than was necessary. She wanted to discover what lay behind those drapes, but she knew there were other necessities. Making her way to the corner, she pulled the corded bell pull to summon her maid, unsure where anyone was in the house nor what time it was. Only then would she allow herself to tug at the heavy drapes and pull one aside.
She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, but what greeted her took her breath away. The ocean was a magnificent beast that roared its majestic head into cresting waves against the rugged coast that fell away behind the manor. The landscape was rough and ragged, so unlike the gently turned gardens of London and the carefully manicured grounds of country houses. This was something else. This was ethereal and confounding, terrifying and beautiful all at once.
The sound of the door opening behind her cut her perusal short, but she was pleased to see Lucy sweep into the room with a tray of tea.
“Good morning, Your Grace.” Lucy was ever chirper no matter the situation, and she presented Eliza with a steaming cup of tea and a bright smile. “I should say the kitchens are right organized here. I wouldn’t be surprised if Cook had taken a turn in the local militia.”
Eliza couldn’t help but to return her smile. “Where’s Henry?”
“He’s in the gardens with His Grace.” Lucy disappeared into the dressing room off of Eliza’s bedchamber and returned with a freshly pressed muslin gown of lavender and pink sprigs. “Do you know I don’t think the duke’s ever had a dog? They’ve been out there for some time, and I would hazard to say he’s almost acting like a schoolboy.”