Page 41 of The Dangerous Love of a Rogue
‘Let go, sweetheart,’ he whispered huskily. ‘Trust me, you need do nothing more just relax and feel.’
The tide rose within her. He knew… He knew how she would respond.
His fingers stroked deep inside her as his thumb played over a sensitive spot at the fore of her sex. Sensations flowed like ripples through her body, like the last crests of the waves rolling over the pebbles at Lyme Regis, one racing across another, drawing back the smallest pebbles and spinning them over.
‘Please, I want you…’ She begged for him to conclude this.
‘You would regret it, darling. Just let go,’ he urged her as firmly as his fingers worked. ‘Come into my hand.’
Thoughts and feelings shattered, splintering into a thousand pieces that were swept away on a surging, rolling crescent of a wave. It washed through her blood like a bore tide, ripping through her veins, stronger than she’d felt before.
‘That’s it, sweetheart…’ he said as his movement stopped. It was as though he felt the emotions throbbing within her. Then his fingers were gone and instead he held the hand that held him and looked at her face. ‘I am sorry, darling. I am sorry, but I need this.’ His gaze clung to hers as their joined hands slid up and down much faster than before. It became a painful embrace.
His eyes shone, their onyx centres broad, glazed with a dark intent.
She understood; she could see the sensations he’d taught her echoed in his expressions.
Then he stopped. It was as though every muscle in his body locked. His eyes looked up to nowhere, and a cry of revelation broke his lips, rasping from his throat. He pulsed in her hand and wet heat spilled from his tip. This was his moment of ecstasy. The intimacy and vulnerability of it touched her soul.
He closed his eyes and his head rested on her shoulder. He breathed heavily.
He was not a monster, just a man. A man she loved, and a man who cared for her. A man who was labelledbadby society. They were wrong.
When he lifted his head and opened his eyes, they shone with gratitude. ‘You are divine. Thank you. When you are certain, my darling, when you say yes, then we will join, but not before. You must know you can trust me.’
As he stood up to right his clothes, her heartbeat slowed. She felt cold, despite the hot day.
He withdrew a handkerchief from the pocket of his morning coat, wiped his hand and then held it towards her. ‘Here… You may want to wipe yourself.’ He looked as if he feared she’d bolt.
She would not. She’d made her choice. She accepted the handkerchief, wiped her hand and between her thighs, remembering how she had begged him for more…
He smiled. ‘You look gorgeous with your hair tousled,’ he said, as he took the soiled handkerchief and slid it back into his pocket.
Heat burned in her skin as she swung her legs from the sofa, sitting upright before pulling up the neck of her chemise and securing the buttons of her bodice with shaking fingers. She stood. The hem of her dress fell, revealing how creased the muslin had become. Awkwardness beset her. What should she say and do now?
He smiled as he slid his arms into his morning coat. His waistcoat was buttoned up once more and his shirt tucked neatly into his trousers. Looking at him, no one would know they had done anything. Yet, if they looked at her, they would see the hair that had fallen from the comb and how crumpled her dress was.
His fingers tilted her chin and he kissed her quickly.
Her heart fluttered and her stomach flipped. Lifting onto her toes, she wrapped her arms about his neck, kissed his cheek and said to his ear, ‘I will, yes.’
His head pulled back, his eyes full of questions. ‘Yes?’
‘Yes. I will marry you.’
His brow furrowed, as though he did not believe her.
If she needed any more proof that he was not the rogue he seemed, here it was. His surprise and doubt only showed he was not as self-confident as he appeared. It was what he had not done, more than what he did, that convinced her. He’d determinedly remained mindful of her virginity. She would show people he was not what they thought.
‘You are sure?’
‘I am sure. I think I can trust you.’ She held his gaze, stepping tentatively onto a bridge of faith.
The expression in his eyes softened. ‘You think you can trust me, and I think I love you. Is this our foundation?’
Her palm rested against his cheek. ‘Do you wish to dissuade me now? You are only proving yourself worthy of my…’ She lost the courage to say the word.
His lips tilted to his roguish half-smile. ‘Of your what…? Of your love…? Do you think you love me too?’ His voice rang with surprise and hope.
