Page 80 of Romancing the Scot
Her hands slipped around his neck, her fingers threading into his hair. Her mouth slanted beneath his, her lips pressing harder. In her innocent way, she was coaxing him to take more. Careful to let slip only a single thread of his control, he let his affection and his passion flow into the kiss. In the giving and taking of their mouths and tongues, in the delicate imitation of the sexual act, he felt himself soar.
Her moan of pleasure was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. Her body molded to his, softened, formed itself to him in ways he hadn’t been able to stop thinking of since he’d gone to her bedroom.
He released another thread of restraint, allowing his hand to roam over her back, pressing her closer, sliding over her bottom, savoring the perfect fit of their bodies as he pulled her against him.
Hugh tore his lips from her mouth and trailed kisses on her face, along the column of her throat. He swept her up in his arms and pressed his lips against the firm round flesh of her breasts.
“When will you be done talking to Mr. Branson?” she whispered.
Desire, potent and demanding, surged in his loins. He wanted her. Tonight, tomorrow, for the eternity.
“An hour, maybe less.”
“Come to my room then. I’ll be waiting.”
* * *
As Grace prowled anxiously in her room, each minute felt like an hour.
For her entire adult life, she considered herself a brave woman. She prided herself for following her father on his military campaigns, living among the battlefields, hearing the bugle calls and the thunder of cavalry charges, standing stoically against the concussion of bombardments she could feel deep in her belly. When it came to society’s rules, if they interfered with her beliefs or separated her from what remained of her family, she cared nothing for them. Grace believed that she was bold and independent enough to live life on her own terms and take her chances.
She searched for that woman now. But since the loss of her father in Antwerp, something had wrought a change in her. Perhaps it was the helplessness she’d felt seeing his lifeless eyes looking back at her. Perhaps it was those days and nights of unrelenting darkness. She could still stand against attackers on a country lane, but what had she been doing since Hugh had proposed to her? The “dauntless” Grace Ware had been cowering in fear.
Deep down, Grace knew everything she wanted lay in learning to trust herself and Hugh. She needed to bring back the woman who had no fear of taking a chance, of having faith in herself and what she wanted. Hugh had fallen in love with that Grace Ware. It was time to reclaim herself.
The soft knock on the door set Grace’s heart pounding. She moved quickly to the door and took a deep breath before opening it. He’d discarded his jacket and necktie. Almost involuntarily, she studied every inch of him, trying to stamp into her memory this moment, this man. He was hers and she was his. And she wanted him more than her next breath. She needed him more than life.
“May I come in?”
She was scorched by the power of his gaze. Extending her hand in invitation, their fingers entwined and he entered. As soon as the door closed behind them, he caught her up in his embrace, holding her, pressing every curve of her body against his until she could almost feel his heart beating in her own chest, feel his need spreading through every inch of her body, feel his desire become her own.
“I cannot remember ever wanting anything in life as I want you.”
“I’m yours,” she whispered fiercely, her passion climbing to the surface. She allowed it to soar. “Heart, soul, and body.”
“If you want, we can wait for this night until we marry.”
“And I say, we wait for nothing,” she responded. “We’ve made our promises. And tonight, I need you.”
Grace wanted to crush out all doubts. But to do that, she needed to feel Hugh’s strength and love. This was the road she must travel. This was the road she wanted to travel. From here, there was no turning back. And she embraced it with all the passion within her.
As he kissed her mouth, her fingers moved timidly at first, slowly down from his chest to the front of his trousers. She felt the ridges of his hardness pronounced through the layers of clothes. A low groan of pleasure emitted from deep within him, and this was all the encouragement she needed.
“I’ll not allow you to leave this room unless you have become as frantic with need as I was the last time you were here,” she threatened in jest. “But you must tell me if I’m doing something wrong.”
“There’s nothing you can do to me that would be wrong.” He smiled, kissing her as he backed her across the room. He only paused when they reached the bed. “But you have to let me start. I’ve been imagining this for days.”
She had no chance to protest as he turned her around and slowly started to unbutton her dress. His breath caressed her back, his lips kissed every inch of skin he exposed. A gasp escaped her when he lost patience and pushed the dress and chemise from her shoulders to her waist, trapping her arms in the sleeves. She burned as his hands slid around her and he took the weight of each breast in his palms. His thumbs grazed the hardening nipples.
Hugh turned her and kissed her, a long sensuous kiss. His mouth moved from her lips to her neck, over her collarbone and down to her breasts. Grace closed her eyes as he toyed with each nipple, his tongue and his teeth making every nerve in her body ache with need.
But she was determined not to allow him to again lift her alone into a state of bliss. She now understood that mutual satisfaction was part of this game of lovemaking.
“Not this time,” she whispered, shaking her arms free from the dress. Coaxing his mouth back to her lips, she seduced his mouth with her lips and tongue as she started undoing the buttons of his shirt. “I want to touch you. Feel you.”
Her hands struggled with the buttons and he lifted the shirt over his head and cast it to the floor. Grace stared at his magnificent chest. Muscle rippled beneath taut skin, demanding to be touched. She traced the lines of white scars that mingled with the soft sprinkle of dark hair, and pressed her lips to them.
He took a sharp breath when she bit on his nipple as he’d done to her.
