Page 55 of The Viscount's Code
It had given her an idea, one that was very daring but that she couldn’t stop herself from acting out.
What he would think, she had no idea, but she had to speak to him. The not knowing was tearing her apart.
She knocked softly on the door, hoping that no one else nearby would hear her.
He answered quickly, his eyes widening in surprise when he saw her standing there.
“Hope,” he said, looking behind her to make sure that no one saw her before pulling her in quickly. “What are you doing?”
“I had to see you,” she said, wringing her hands together as her nerves began to overcome her. “We haven’t spoken alone since we met Faith at the inn.”
“No,” he said, his expression guarded. “I thought it would be for the best.”
“Why?” she asked, looking at him imploringly. It was the question that had been on her mind for days now. “Since we returned from visiting Reeves, you seemed to have cut me off. Did I do something wrong? Was I too… too forward?” She hated that her voice squeaked at the end of the sentence.
“No,” he said, turning and walking over to take a chair in front of the fireplace. “I just thought it was for the best.”
She had to tell her legs to move as she walked over to sit in the chair across from him. “Why?”
He paused for a moment, staring into the flames. “I told you that you and I could not be together.”
Hope took a breath. This was what she had wanted to discuss. “I know you said that. But I thought that, just maybe…” How was she supposed to say this? “You felt something more for me.”
He turned to her now, and the turmoil in his eyes nearly took her breath away. “Does it matter if I do?”
“Yes!” she exclaimed. “Of course it does.”
“Your father does not want us to be together,” he said. “Nor your sister. Cannot say I have asked your mother’s opinion, although I’m sure she would be happy to offer it.”
She gripped the edges of her chair. “Does it bother you?”
“What your family thinks?” He said, his voice harsh, his fingers gripping the edge of his chair. When he looked at her, his face was tight in frustration. “Yes, Hope. It does. What did you think we were going to do, run away to Gretna Green?”
Hope recoiled slightly, feeling the sting of his words. “I…” She looked away from him, toward the side of the room, trying to will away the tears that threatened to form. “I just…” she tried again, but then, before she knew what was happening, his arms were around her, scooping her up and out of the chair, holding her close.
“I’m sorry,” he said, snuggling his nose into the crook of her neck, his arms tightening around her. “I’m sorry, Hope, for everything.” He sat back in his chair, holding her flush against him. “This is all my fault. I never should have let it get this far, knowing that it couldn’t be, but I couldn’t help myself. For everything about you leaves me wanting more. I don’t know what you see in me, but the last thing I want to do is to hurt you.”
“Then don’t,” she said in a whisper, staring up at him, stroking the side of his cheek. “Does it really matter what everyone else thinks? If you feel for me what I do for you, then how could we ever be with any other?”
“I don’t ever want to think of you with another man,” he growled, holding her tighter, and she leaned back to gaze at him in supplication.
“Then be with me. In truth. Not for a moment, not for a week, but for a lifetime.”
He didn’t answer her with words, and as his lips crashed down upon hers, for a moment, she wondered if this was his way of not disappointing her, but she forgot her worries as he made love to her mouth with the same passion he had to her body before. Still holding her in his arms, he stood and walked her over to the bed, laying her down gently on top of it.
She felt like the most treasured of women as he slowly, gently, unfastened her nightgown and slid it down her arms, his lips trailing kisses on the skin he bared to the air. Hope kept her half-closed eyes upon his face, noting the tenderness in his gaze as he looked down upon her.
No matter what he said, she knew he cared for her, could feel it in the way he lovingly caressed her, the way his tongue teased each of her nipples, the way he so carefully put her nightgown to the side, as though to ensure it wouldn’t wrinkle.
There was also the fact that every time they had made love, he had always first made sure that she was content, ready, and completely fulfilled and enjoying what he was doing to her. Even now, his fingers were at that sensitive place between her legs, gently massaging it as she opened her thighs up to him, inviting him in.
He unfastened his trousers, his eyes meeting hers with question in them, and when she pulled him close, he groaned into her mouth as his lips met hers again, his tongue moving in time with his hips as he thrust into her.
He began slowly, languidly, lovingly, but as Hope began to move more urgently beneath him, he answered in kind, and as they rocked against one another, Hope had to press her mouth against his shoulder in order to stifle herself from calling out his name.
When the colorful wave washed over her, she bit into his skin, even as she whimpered “Anthony,” and he groaned her name into her ear in his own response as he lifted from her for a moment to finish beside her.
Afterward, she curled up against him, her head on his chest, and he stroked her back, raining kisses on her hair.
