Page 27 of Only You
‘Faster,’ she moaned in his ear. ‘Please. For me.’
Damien quickly flipped them around, laying her down on the bed. She threw her head back at the sudden change and pulled him down. Their kisses were a flurry of tongues and panting, as if they had to devour the other right at that moment.
‘I… I’m almost…’ she tried to articulate but between his powerful thrusts and how he continued to touch her most vulnerable spots, her brain stopped short. Damien didn’t reply but took her hand instead, intertwining their fingers as she came; he quickly followed her.
She sighed as she tried to catch her breath, loving the way Damien’s body covered her own. She felt him kissing her shoulder and neck softly before finally moving to her lips. She felt boneless, giddy as her orgasm ran through her. She looked out the window and saw the moon was farther across the sky than before. The reality weighed her down as she sat up slowly.
‘I want you to stay the night,’ she murmured. ‘But you have to leave soon.’
He followed her gaze before kissing her shoulder. ‘But not right now,’ he murmured against her skin.
She sighed tiredly, trying find the strength to be somewhat responsible. ‘Damien…’
He leaned up and stole a kiss, melting away her worries as she cupped his face and enjoyed the heat between them. She had felt cold for so long…
‘I’ll leave before Sandra comes,’ he reassured her. ‘Don’t worry, Sabine. Tonight, I’ll stay by your side.’
Chapter Eleven
Paris
April 1896
There was a moment when Sabine first woke up; the sun had just started to rise on the horizon, making the sky blush. She would watch the sky change in a trance, savouring the quiet and the smell of Damien on the pillow that she would switch with her own the moment he left. In those moments, she could pretend she had woken up early and that Damien had only left their bed to make breakfast for them in their home.
Then, the sunlight would fill her room, and Sandra would knock on her door. It was her only warning before the madness would start.
A month had already passed, and, most days, Sabine could hardly believe she was engaged. The announcement had been sent to the paper and Madame Roulet made sure they visited every linen shop in the city after Sabine had shown her her ‘meagre’ trousseau. She had some dresses from when she arrived, a few jewels, including her ivory necklace and emerald ring, and some swathes of kita fabric, but not much else. According to her guardian, she needed much, much more.
‘We need it to at least match your ring,’ Madame Roulet told her. ‘You need sheets, napkins, a new nightgown, and the lack of linens! Not to mention we still have to get the dressmaker to design your gown… I shall tell the general to ask your father for more ivory.’
When she and Madame Roulet weren’t running around town, Lamont would visit her. Since the wedding date loomed so close, both Genevieve and Madame Roulet were keen on them spending as much time as possible to learn more about each other. He always showed up with an eager smile and bland conversation that did nothing for the restlessness under her skin since she no longer had time to fence or go for a walk through the gardens.
To try and combat that, perhaps inject some kind of novelty into their interactions, she suggested they spend the afternoon horseback riding outside the city. It didn’t take long for her to realise that it was a mistake.
‘Easy, slow down, Sabine,’ he admonished. ‘You’ll scare the horse.’
It was his third reprimand and the second time he had reached over to grab her reins, as if she were moments from going out of control. She bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from snatching away the reins.
‘You don’t need to worry. As I’ve said before, I’ve ridden horses for a while,’ she said, straining to keep her voice calm.
‘But these are Anglo-Arabians,’ Lamont emphasised. ‘I highly doubt you’ve ridden these before. Why, my father only has these due to a bet he made with a diplomat. Can you believe it?’
She didn’t answer nor did she bother to tell him that she learned to horseback ride on Andalusians when her father made an under-the-table trade deal with a Spanish diplomat. She could only imagine how he would react to that.
‘Now, if you look out west,’ Lamont said next to her, ‘you will see—’
‘I don’t care,’ Sabine cut in and Lamont froze. She had never spoken harshly with him before. Truthfully, she had done her best to spare his feelings, but it was becoming more impossible with each passing day.
‘Why would you not care?’ he asked. ‘You said you wanted to explore.’
Sabine rolled her eyes before dismounting her horse, stomping down the path that led back towards their carriage.
‘Sabine,mon coeur,’ Lamont called but she didn’t stop.
A few moments later, his footsteps followed, and she wished she weren’t wearing a dress, if only so she could outrun him.
‘My darling, slow down.’ He grabbed her arm, but she snatched it out of his grip before turning to him.
