Page 104 of Wicked Designs
“That should never have happened. It will never happen again.” He brushed his lips against hers.
“Don’t promise that. It was beyond anything I’ve ever experienced. Of course, at the time I thought you had forgiven me and had missed me terribly.”
“Forgive you? Emily, I was not gentle with you. Why don’t you hateme?” Fearful confusion clouded his wide eyes.
“I could never hate you. Godric, I love you. Haven’t I told you enough for you to believe me? As for not being gentle… I enjoyed it. Now stay. Sleep with me.” Her voice was a command. “From what Cedric said, you’ve not had any rest.”
Godric wanted to shout, to laugh. If this was the extent of her temper, she truly was an angel. He pulled her into his arms, burying his face into her neck, kissing the sensitive spot right behind her ear until her breath quickened.
“I don’t deserve you, my darling.”
“You certainly don’t. Lucky for you, I seem to have developed a taste for rogues.” She ran her fingers through his hair, teasing the nape of his neck.
“Rogues?” He flicked his tongue against her neck, eliciting a soft little moan. “As in more than one?”
“I’ve lived with five of you under the same roof. Suffice it to say I’ve found your little League quite—”She paused as he sucked her skin, and she flushed with heat.
“Yes?” He prompted.
“What were we talking about?” One of his hands slid under the gown of her robe and palmed her breast, caressing the pink bud that tightened beneath his fingertips.
“I believe we were talking about sleep,” he murmured against her lips before he slid his tongue into her mouth, barely able to think straight himself.
“Sleep?”
“Sleep…yes…” He’d barely let himself rest, let alone sleep in the past two days. Now the drowsiness was starting to catch up with him. Godric drew in a slow deep breath, his body relaxing, but his heart and soul breathed, danced and rejoiced. Emily was back where she belonged, with him. He could rest. She was safe.
“Emily,” he whispered against her neck.
“Yes?”
“I’m not like my father. I have his temper, but I am not like him.”
“Godric. When you were angry you made love to me. That doesn’t make you like your father.” Emily’s eyes twinkled as she ran a fingertip down his open shirt, skimming his bare chest. Godric groaned, wishing that fingertip would keep going down.
“Can we talk about Jonathan?”
“My brother? Wish I could kill him. Can’t.” He moaned. “He’s a St. Laurent.” Godric’s words scattered apart as he struggled to fight his need for Emily. She needed to rest, not make love.
“He’s a lot like you.”
“Oh? In what way?” Godric’s hand moved around to her back, caressing her underneath the velvet robe.
“He’s a stubborn, green-eyed rogue who assumes every woman secretly wants him and just needs to be convinced of it.” She giggled and twisted her body so that she lay on her back.
A smile escaped his lips and he bent down to kiss Emily again. “You’re right, the devil does sound like me.”
“You need to rest.”
“So do you, darling.” He settled her deeper into his embrace.
They were both quiet for a long moment. Godric drew in a deep breath. “Promise me you’ll be here when I wake up.” He brushed a hair from her face. “I know you will, but I need to hear it.” Emily groggily looked at him, her brow crinkling in an adorable way.
“I promise I will be here. Godric, I’m so sorry I left. I can’t image how it must have hurt you.” She ran a fingertip along his jaw, tracing his face.
He leaned back and ran a hand over his eyes in an attempt to erase the memories. “I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. I thought I was dying, Emily. Christ, you have no idea what that’s like.” His eyes were those of a boy, one who’d seen years of abuse. “I swore that, after my father, no one would ever have the power to hurt me.”
“When I realized I had to leave…I came back to my room and collapsed.” Emily fought to control her voice. “I wanted nothing more than to run back down to the dining room and into your arms. But I had to protect you. I would do anything to protect you.” She leaned up to brush a kiss on his brow before settling back down, resting her head on his chest. “I will be here tomorrow morning. I promise.”
