Leaving her mouth, Nick brushed a trail of kisses over her cheek and nose, chin and jaw, before roving lower along the length of her throat. He buried his face in the sensitive curve of her neck.
Her eyes fluttered wide at the gentle nip he placed there, then sank closed again as he opened his mouth over the spot and began drawing on her flesh in the most devastating of ways.
She moaned and trembled, an ache building low between her legs as if his mouth were directly connected to that second spot as well. Her knees shook, making her grateful she was cradled so securely inside his strong arms.
He shifted his hold and began stringing a fresh line of kisses along the base of her throat, moving slowly across to the other side. Pausing, he drew on her nape with the same rapturous purpose he’d used before. As he did, his hand slid beneath the edge of her open robe and found her breast, cupping its soft weight inside one wide palm.
Another quiet moan trilled from between her lips, her pulse racing at a frantic pace as he began caressing her the way he had only a few hours ago at the fair. In ever widening circles, his thumb moved against her nipple, around and around and around until she thought she might go a little mad. And yet she wanted more—even if she didn’t quite understand exactly what “more” might entail.
Still intent on his ministrations, he gave the tip of her berry-hard nipple a quick, light pinch, then another, and a third, while his tongue swirled wickedly against her nape. She jolted and moaned as he bit her ever so gently, the flames inside her roaring even hotter than before.
Laving his tongue over the area, he moved on to a new location, pausing to gently suckle the skin he found along the lush curve at the top of her breast.
It’s as if he means to mark me, she thought dazedly. As if he is determined to ruin me for any man’s touch but his own, for now and always.
And in the next moment she knew that he had done exactly that, knew it as surely as she knew her own name.
She would never want any man but him.
She’d come here tonight already loving Nick. She would leave here forever and absolutely possessed—his for all the rest of her days.
A bittersweet sorrow flooded her heart at the realization, remembering what must come on the morrow. Ruthlessly, she pushed the thought aside, refusing to dwell on realities.
Fantasy was what she craved tonight.
Fantasy and rapture—a delight that would endure when she could no longer have the security and joy of being held in Nick’s arms.
Regardless of her determination to think of nothing but the pleasure of the moment, she must have betrayed herself in some slight way, since abruptly Nick raised his head and stared into her eyes.
His face was flushed, a slight crest of color riding the curve of his cheekbones. Breath came faster than usual from his lungs, his eyes heavy with bold, unmistakable desire.
“Sweet Jesu. You make me lose my wits, Emma,” he said. “I can’t think when I’m around you. If I had any sense, I would stop this insanity and send you straight back to your bed.”
And yet he didn’t stop touching her, the hand that cupped her breast continuing to caress her pliant flesh as if he couldn’t find the will to take it away. He kissed her again too, a drowsy dusting of his lips against her forehead and temples and cheeks before seeking her mouth for another long, slow, soul-stealing kiss.
After a while, he shuddered visibly and pulled away again, somehow finding the strength to lift his hand from her flesh this time—though admittedly by no more than an inch.
“Tell me to stop, Emma,” he urged on a husky murmur that was half plea, half prayer. “All you have to do is tell me and I’ll let you go.”
She stared into his eyes, knowing she could end this, that she should end it—and would, if she had any sense. But when she was around him, all rational thought seemed to disappear, along with every ounce of caution she possessed. She wanted him tonight.
Madly.
Desperately.
To the point of insanity so that she no longer cared about anything but being with him. She wanted him in all ways. Wanted him to be her first lover, even if she ought to be preserving her innocence for her future husband.
For in her heart, Nick was her husband. He was the man she would choose to marry if she could, the man with whom she wanted to spend her life. If her body was all she was free to give him, then she would do so with open eyes and a glad heart in spite of any consequences that might come after. Right now, all she cared about was having this one chance—her only chance—to be with him in the most intimate way possible. She’d dared to live as she wished when she’d run away from the estate, and tonight she was going to live as she wished one last glorious time.