His Wicked Seduction novel Chapter 57

Horatia shook her head as she tried to speak. "You're so warm," she managed at last.

"Good. That is the idea." He reached the last button of her gown and he peeled it away, easing her cold limp arms from her sleeves before he dragged the garment off her completely. Lucien did not stop there. He removed her stays, chemise, stockings, and slippers.

Ordinarily Horatia would have been clutching at a blanket to hide some of her nakedness but her inner pain and weariness had numbed her to such inconsequential concerns. Lying on her stomach, she gazed straight ahead listening to the sounds of Lucien stripping himself of his own clothes behind her.

There was nothing sensual in his movements. In fact, he nearly tripped getting his shoes off. The second he was down to his bare skin, he reached for a thick woolen blanket draped over the foot of the bed and he wrapped it around him like a cloak. Only then did he turn his attention back to Horatia as he scooped her up and carried her to the soft thick rug near the fire.

He sat down and braced her body back against his, securing the blanket around their bodies. Between the fire before her and the fire of his skin behind her, the chill in her bones melted away, followed by sharp prickling as her nerves came alive again. She shifted against Lucien and his hot breath quickened against her cheek.

"Easy, love," he whispered in her ear. "You have no idea how long you were out there, do you?" The tenderness of his voice, the soft endearment so pure on his lips had her quaking with bottled up emotions. "Let it out darling, let it all out. I'm here."

It was this promise, undiluted by the outside world and its concerns that crippled Horatia's protective barrier. She broke down, burrowing into him as though she could forge an unbreakable connection between their bodies and she never wanted to be without him or his comforting touch again. Her dry eyes pooled with hot, heavy tears and Lucien rubbed each drop of moisture away with his fingertips.

"It hurts," Horatia gasped as the weight of everything descended upon her. Like knife shards embedded in her lungs, each breath she sucked in was ragged and icy.

"That's a good thing, my love. It means your heart is still alive. Just let it all out." Lucien brushed his lips along her tear-stained cheek and absorbed her shaking with his body.

The two times in her life when she needed someone most, when she'd been her weakest, he'd been there. She'd often wondered why she loved Lucien and no one else, even when he'd been determined to be cold to her. This moment, this embrace, was everything that mattered. A man who would do this for her was the only man she could ever have, ever want.

As her shaking subsided, Horatia turned about in Lucien's arms. He gazed down at her in tender worry.

"Make love to me," she pleaded.

"No, darling, not like this." He feathered his lips against her temple and stroked her hair back from her face. "You've been through too much. I'll not add to that pain."

"I want you, Lucien. Each second you aren't kissing me is killing me inside." Horatia cupped his face. An auburn tinged night beard had started to graze his cheeks, and the roughness of it was an enticing contrast to the smooth skin of his chest.

Lucien smiled ever so slightly. "I know I'm a wonderful kisser but no one has ever perished from a lack of it as far as I can recall."

Horatia, her body filled with desire and a desperation for some sort of release, pulled free of his arms and stood up, entirely bare before him. She walked around him and approached the bed.

"I don't recognize this room," she said softly as she eased onto the bed.

Lucien followed her movement, his eyes focusing on the peaks of her breasts, the chill in the air tightening her nipples.

"I found you too far away from the house. I brought you to the gardener's summer cottage," Lucien explained. He got to his feet, blanket still loosely cloaking his body.

"The gardener's cottage?"

There was a hungry look in his eyes as he approached, but still it seemed he meant to resist her.

"Yes, it's always empty in the winter." Lucien's voice was even lower, huskier than before.

"So we are alone, without fear of discovery." Horatia started to reach for the blanket about his body.

"Are you trying to seduce me?" A wicked smile played about his mouth.

"That depends. Is it working?" Horatia ran her foot up against his calf and he tensed.

"Your feet are cold, love. Shall I warm them up for you?"

For an answer, Horatia tugged harder on the blanket. Lucien dropped it at his feet, baring his body before her. It seemed her entire life had been leading up to this moment. Bodies and souls finally bared to each other. She stared up at him, examining his finely formed body, at last able to see all the parts of him that had been hidden.

"Burn me. Consume me, Lucien. It's the only thing I've ever wanted." Horatia kissed Lucien so deeply that her assault seemed to drive him wild. He snatched her hand away and confined her wrists above her head. Poised at her entrance, he began to work his way inside, gentle and slow, so unlike what she'd come to expect from him.

Horatia lifted her hips, forcing him too deep too soon and he muttered a curse and tried to lift away. She locked her legs around his hips, keeping him close. His hips jerked forward in a shallow thrust. The sudden intrusion of his shaft inside her burned and a piece of her was forever lost in the wake of his penetration. But she was glad. She was changed. She was his.

She ignored his apologies as passion sparked his movements into life inside her.

Lucien now held her prisoner beneath him, a slow steady pace of thrusts testing her limits. He feathered kisses across her cheeks, nose, lips and chin, as though unable to stop himself from branding his essence on her in every way possible.

The pain dulled in the wake of a tension that was steadily building. The sensation she'd once mistaken for nausea was back, stronger than before. Horatia reveled in it, understanding now what it meant and the throbbing between her legs eased with each of Lucien's thrusts.

Even though her wrists were trapped, she raised her hips, welcoming him deeper into her. Lucien released her wrists to glide his hands down her sides and underneath her, cupping her bottom, lifting it up. The angle changed things dramatically, and his shaft struck some new place deep within her. The cry that left her lips was one of startled surprise and Lucien hastened to repeat the move again and again, her cries a primal encouragement to continue. Sweat dewed on their bodies as Lucien's pace picked up.

"Lucien, I think I..." Horatia was silenced with a dominating and possessive kiss that ended in the most brilliant burst of pleasure in her life. She heard a scream and only later realized it was her own. Lucien shouted her name as he jerked against her. He continued to shake and rock, trembling above her. Horatia would never forget the look in his eyes-so bright with passion, fire, tenderness and confusion.

"My God, Horatia. I've never-didn't know-it could be this way." He seemed afraid, like a young boy faced with fear for the first time. Horatia ran her fingers through his hair and raised her head up to kiss him.

"Don't be afraid, Lucien. I'll hold you."

It was too soon to hope that he'd come to love her, but she knew that he cared. This was no casual affair. This was about making love, about forging a connection. Lucien settled in her arms, their bodies still linked as her hands brushed against him. He buried his face in her dark brown hair. A cool breeze tickled their bodies and Lucien disentangled himself from her.

"Please don't leave," she begged in a ragged whisper.

"Never, my heart. Never." He pulled back the covers of the bed so he could slip inside and join her, cocooning her body with his own. The only sounds were their mingled breathing and the snap and crack of the fire in the hearth.

Everything has changed. But what would Lucien do now? Not wanting to dwell on the possibilities, she burrowed into his arms and settled down to sleep.