Page 50 of The Marquess' Wicked Wager
She nodded, pulling her cloak around herself. “He says he should manage to deliver it before the end of the day though that seems rather unlikely.” She ran her fingers over the top of the garden fence. “I told him what we intend—with the blacksmith’s shop in Gretna.”
“He might try to stop us.”
“He might try, yes—but he will not be successful. I simply cannot marry while keeping my father in the dark. I cannot—”
“I know,” Albert hushed, darting forward. He ran his hands up and down her arms. “I know, Edna, and I will not find it in me to mind. As long as you are there, I shall be happy.”
“Tomorrow morning, then.”
“Tomorrow morning.”
* * *
The bedding atop Edna felt all at once too heavy, too light, too scratchy, too soft. She tossed and turned to no avail for what felt likehours. The night was pitch-black beyond the window with not a star in sight. She might have thought it an ill omen if their elopement had not been so shadowed already.
It was Albert, or the thought of him rather, that had kept her awake all through the night. They had eaten in his chamber. They had parted with a sober, light kiss so as not to tempt fate; she had closed the door to her bedroom...and now she wished for nothing more than to rip it off of its hinges, barge into his room, and let him know justhowmuch she wished to be his wife.
It was like a sickness, her lust, building and spreading at first without her even knowing. He had lit the fire with a stolen kiss the night of their meeting; he had stoked the fire at the inn—now it was roaring, raging, out of control...and it would not be tamed for her waiting.
“It’s only a night,” she whispered to herself, flopping on her side and mouthing into her pillow. “One night.”
Then, as though detached from her system, her hand found its way to the junction at her thighs. She ripped it up to her face, not certain what it was she had intended. Vowing herself to sleep, she closed her eyes...and that damnable hand snaked its way down her body again. She pressed a finger to the part of her thatbeggedto be touched, and she let out a little whimper.
Suddenly, a loud crashing came from the room adjacent to hers.Albert. She rushed out of bed, casting her dressing gown over her sheer chemise. Pressing an ear to the door, she listened for more activity. There was a rumbling about, some footsteps, and then—
“Heavens!” she gasped as the door flung open before her, revealing her betrothed.
He looked as surprised as she did, his hand still looped around a phantom doorknob. He was in a dressing gown of his own. “Oh God, I’m sorry. Did I wake you? I dropped a...a…” He trailed off. His chest was heaving with his surprise. At least, what shethoughtwas surprise. He was gorgeous in the faint, veiled light of the moon. The lines and angles of his face were brought to life in shadow. His lips were parted, breath slipping from them like water.
“You dropped…what?” Edna asked, but she didn’t care at all. She only cared for howclosehe was, for how distressed he seemed. For how much she wanted to feel his body against hers, too.
“A book. I think.” His face twisted. “You were not asleep.”
“I was…I’m not sure what I was doing.” It was better than a lie.
“I cannot find sleep.”
Edna’s heart raced, that same impish spot below her belly practicallyscreamingto be attended. “Nor can I.” She looked up at him, suddenly quite vexed. She didn’t want Albert todo things right, as he had said. She wanted him to do things quitewrongas they had been doing them since the start. She liked his breaking of rules, and they had broken so many before...
What was one more?
“What do you suppose we might do about it?”
In guise of an answer, Albert rushed toward her. He growled against her mouth, pressing his tongue past her lips to dance with her own. There was nothing but the blur of his body, melding with the taste of him as he slammed shut the door between their rooms with his free hand. The other was at her rump, squeezing what flesh he could find. With a leg between hers, he directed her to the bed. She fell upon the mattress and twisted quilt, her hands clasped around his neck for fear of losing him.
Albert grabbed her at the waist, hoisting her further onto the bed so that he might climb atop her. His mouth locked hers again, and he bit her lip. “Be my wife tonight,” he graveled. “Bemine.”
She moaned her agreement. “I shall be anything you need.”
Her answer only spurred him on. Her handsome, clever, witty Albert had transformed completely. He hovered atop her like a god she had dreamed up...except this god worshippedher. He lavished her with kisses down her neck, and then his hand was at her bosom, cupping her breast. As with her bottom, he gave it a gentle squeeze. Edna felt a trickle between her thighs, not knowing what had caused it, not knowing really what was happening—only that it felt like the most right of wrongs.
Albert drew away from her long enough to remove his dressing gown, straddling her. She arced herself up to help him take off his undershirt...and then he was there, bare before her. She saweverything: the matted hair of his chest, the muscles of his arms, the line that started at his abdomen and drew down...down until…until she saw it. She sawhim. She reached out, curiously, tentatively to touch it. He gave a little tremble, a little sigh, as she ran a finger down his hard shaft.
Something base and primal awoke within her as though she was completely enthralled by the power he held over her. She must have held some power over him, too, for he pressed her back down, snapping her hand above her head. She kept it there as he slid her dressing gown from her arms. He ran his hand from her calf to her thigh, breathing her in. Everything was tempered, measured, slow—agonizinglyslow. She wanted to ask what he would do to quell the aching between her legs though she feared she knew.
Carefully, he drew the hem of her chemise up her legs and to her waist. His hardness was grazing against her thigh, teasing terrible sighs from her. The chemise came off, and with it, all inhibition.
He was licking her, suckling at her skin, tasting her, driving hermadwith longing. She tried to reach for him, for his desire too, but he pulled her hand back every time.
