Clarke took his coat off and wrapped it around her shoulders as they headed off across the lawn.
Once inside the cabin, he lit candles and a fire in the hearth. When the flames kicked up, he warmed his hands and turned to watch Adeline take the pins from her hair. It tumbled over her shoulders like a dark waterfall. Her beauty made his mouth dry with desire.
He came to her and slipped one hand behind her head for another kiss. He skimmed a hand over the wool of his coat’s collar and then pulled it from her shoulders. He tossed it over a chair and swept a hand from her elbow, down the side of her torso. Her breath quickened.
Clarke trailed a finger over the swell of her breast, barely touching it, before cupping the curved softness through the cloth. Turning her, he slipped the buttons free down the back of her gown. He was happy she was turned away and couldn’t see his fingers tremble in anticipation. How many buttons were there on this damn thing?
Finally, he slipped the last free and pushed the silk gown from her shoulders. He took her hand and helped her step free of the crinoline.
“How can women wear these things?” he asked.
“We have little choice. It is the fashion.”
“I prefer this.” He cupped his hands over her chemise, and toyed with her nipples. He undid the ties of her chemise so hurriedly, he heard the rip of linen. He was far beyond caring. The fabric fellleaving her naked.
He stepped back. A blush of color washed up her neck. He knew his silent measure of her made her uneasy, but he couldn’t help himself. On the night before the battle, he’d tried to picture a woman. This was the memory he’d wanted to take to his death. This was the perfect vision he would remember. Her. Now. He’d had sex, but he’d always ached for more. A Connection. Now, he shook his head to make sure it was real and that Adeline was here with him.
Her nipples were hard from the cold room and a deep rosy pink. Slipping a hand around her waist, he pulled her close and relished how she fit against him. He dropped his head to suckle and tease her breast, alternating back and forth. His mouth was unrelenting until she moaned. Electric bursts of fire shot through him, desperate with need for her.
He broke their kiss long enough to strip off his clothes, then he savagely kissed a trail down her cheek to the side of her neck. Her hips lifted against him, where his steel cock pressed against her stomach.
“What do you want?” he asked his voice hoarse as she explored the hard planes of his back and shoulders with her fingertips.
She smelled like so many memories. Happy memories. Spring days they played in the fields. “I don’t know.” She contemplated his question. “I want to touch you.”
“I am yours.” He lifted his arms out from his sides.
When her soft, small hand wrapped around him, Clarke thought he would spill right there. She tentatively slid her hand from the base to the crown. It only lasted a few strokes before he stilled her hand. “I’m not sure how much you know about a man.”
“Nothing.”
“Then I will tell you, your touch is too sweet. I am not stopping you because you are doing anything wrong; I am stopping you because you have stripped my willpower and I want to show you there is more.”
He swung her into his arms, strode a few feet and laid her on top of the small bed in the corner of the room. He pressed over her.
She cupped his cheek with her hand and looked into his eyes. “Do you really love me?”
“I have known you half of my life, and loved you the other half.”
He was large, and she was so damn tight, he would have to let her adjust. But, she was already wet with desire and this allowed him to slide a few more inches inside. He ground his back teeth fighting for control.
“Clarke?” Her eyes were wide and the darkest shade of blue he had ever seen.
He kissed her gently as he pressed against her barrier, and then further. “From this night forward, I am your husband and I will always love you.”
He wanted to spend the next few hours kissing her and making love. He would, but for this first time, he knew he would not last. He brought her knees higher and plunged deep. This time when she cried his name, he knew it was from pleasure and not pain.
She rippled around him as her climax shattered her. His entire body tensed. He let her milk him as he thrust one last time. Clarke threw back his head, let out a guttural cry, and emptied himself deep within her. It poured from his soul, filled with his dreams, his needs, his fears.