She needed him, all of him, in a way that knew no bounds. Some might say that such a connection was impossible, but she knew better. Knew that of all the men in the world, he was the only one who could make her feel as she did. The only man who could bring her a love that few women would ever hope to experience. In that moment, she realized that he was her perfect match—physically, emotionally, spiritually, in all ways there could be. The two of them were halves of a whole, formed by God and nature for just this purpose.
Then he began to move inside her in heavy, penetrating strokes and she forgot all about such ethereal wanderings. Determined to be as close to him as possible, she wrapped her arms and legs tight and urged him deeper still.
With a heartfelt groan, he complied, moving in sure, swift strokes that sent her flying.
But he had one last surprise in store as he suddenly braced the two of them together, then rolled onto his back, carrying her along so that she was on top. Her wide eyes met the lambent intensity of his gaze, seeing her own raging desire reflected back.
“I love you,” he said, his voice throaty with emotion. “So much, Emma. So very, very much.” His hands glided over her shoulders and down her spine, then around so they came to rest on her hips. “Tell me again that you love me.”
“I do,” she vowed. “More than you may ever know.”
“Then show me, love,” he said, shifting her hips with his hands so that she knew how he meant for her to move. “Show me, my beautiful, darling Emmaline.”
And she did, catching on to the rhythm with an adeptness that earned her enthusiastic kisses and ragged moans of praise. Then neither of them could speak, her body reaching for its peak while beneath her Nick did the same.
Her strength faltered at the last, but it didn’t matter, Nick taking command as he thrust inside her in fast, hard strokes that drove her to the edge of madness, then over into a soaring flight of blissful abandon.
He followed moments later, shaking violently as he claimed his pleasure with a hoarse shout that he muffled with a last savage kiss on her lips. She swallowed the sound, love shimmering like a rich, golden light inside her.
Smiling, she sank exhausted and replete across him, safe in the knowledge that whatever the future might bring, everything would be all right so long as they were together.
Nick awakened Emma about an hour before dawn. After lighting a candle, he retrieved her discarded undergarments and gown from the floor, then helped her dress. By mutual agreement, he left the laces of her stays loose so she could slip easily out of the garment once she was back inside her bedchamber.
For himself, he pulled on a pair of fawn superfine trousers, a freshly laundered white shirt, and a jacket.
“We need to get you back before you are missed,” he said, handing her one of his silver-backed brushes so she could set her hair to rights. Once her tresses flowed like a smooth golden river along her back, he gathered all her hairpins and slid them into a handkerchief for her to carry back to her room.
Taking her gently in his arms, he gave her a last, lingering kiss, careful not to abrade her skin with the growth of morning bristles now shadowing his cheeks. “Ready?” he asked.
She nodded. “I wish I didn’t have to leave you. Are you sure we shouldn’t elope, after all? I could pack a valise and we could be on our way within the hour.”
“As tempting as that sounds, I would like to do the honorable thing by you rather than stealing away like a thief. Your brother seems like a reasonable man; perhaps he’ll surprise you.”
Emma held her tongue, no more convinced of that likelihood than before. He kissed her again, slow and sweet, leaving her wishing even more that they had the freedom to simply crawl back into his bed.
At length, he let her go, sighing at the necessity. “I suppose we shouldn’t plan to spend the night together again until we are married. Too many chances of being caught.” His palm slid down to the curve of her bottom and pressed her closer. “I don’t know how I’m going to keep my hands off you.”
“Nor I you.”
His mouth took hers again, claiming her one last time. “Hmm,” he groaned as he eased away. “I believe I ought to give you fair warning that I plan on a very long honeymoon. I may not let you out of bed for month.”
“Will that be enough time? Maybe we should plan on two months?” she said, skimming a fingertip over his lower lip.
He laughed and gave her finger a playful nip with his teeth. “Come on,” he said, catching her hand fully inside his own. “We dare not delay any longer.”
He cracked the door open a fraction of an inch and listened to make sure the hallway beyond was silent.