But Annalise was done being impassive. She was a woman of two-and-forty years who had raised a son and a daughter almost on her own. The time had come for her to live life for herself, and making love to her husband, a man she longed to touch and explore in all the ways he had always done with her, was a luxury she had been deprived of.
So she lifted her chin and watched as his eyes traveled up her body and boldly met his gaze. “Don’t you think it time to remove this?” she said, grasping the open collar of his shirt and pulling.
With a grunt, Phillip yanked the linen garment from his shoulders and tossed it behind him without a backwards glance. Holding her gaze, he settled above her once again, and her eyes traced over his vast shoulders and the expanse of his firm chest. He was so strong, and yet he had never used his strength against her. As she watched, he slowly, ever so slowly, leaned down to press his mouth against hers.
But his soft touch wasn’t enough. Annalise needed more. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled until his body was flush with hers and she sighed against his lips. She ran her toes along his leg before hitching her foot behind his calf, creating a cradle for which his body to rest. The heavy ridge of his arousal settled against her sensitive place, and she moaned into their kiss, rubbing herself against him.
Phillip seemed to snap, for he went still and pulled back to look down at her. Annalise was certain she looked a wreck, with her hair in disarray and her lips swollen from his kisses. But rather than recoiling at her, he smiled ever so slightly.
“I’ve never seen you this way.”
She forced herself not to squirm. “I…I…”
“I like it.” He brushed hair back from her face and nuzzled her cheek. “I like it more than you know.”
Skimming his fingers along her collarbone and down to the rise of her breasts, he murmured, “I want you to want this as much as I do. I have longed to touch you. To taste you. To discover if your skin is as soft as I remember. But knowing you want me to touch you and taste you is enough to drive me damn near out of my mind.”
And with that, his mouth crashed down onto hers. Annalise eagerly responded, running her fingers through his hair and pulling taut on the ends. When he growled, she did it again.
“Have a care, Lise. It’s been too long since I’ve had you last, and I’m not certain I can be gentle.”
It had been too long. Over a year, at least. The heat simmering in her core flared hot, and she clenched her eyes closed. “I suspect I’ve outgrown gentle,” she whispered hoarsely.
Phillip paused for only a heartbeat before his lips descended down her neck. “Let us see then, shall we?” His breath tickled her nipple, which hardened under the assault. “But remember, if you are ever uncomfortable with anything I do, tell me to stop and I will. I take pleasure in giving you pleasure, not fear or pain.”
When she nodded, he grinned for a brief moment before his tongue shot out to flick her nipple.
Annalise gasped, surprise and delight streaking through her limbs. But when he sucked the sensitive peak into his mouth, she arched her back and groaned.
“You’ve changed,” he said around her worried flesh.
“Two children do change the body,” she managed to bite out.
“For the better.”
She laughed. “I doubt that.”
“I am in earnest.” Phillip pulled his mouth away from her breast and she whimpered. With flirtatious fingers, he skipped them down her stomach and across her hips, his eyes glued to their movements. “You’re softer. Rounder. So utterly beautiful. I’ve always thought you unspeakably lovely, but now, Lise, you’re a goddess.”
A delighted flush swept over her from the tip of her head to her toes.
“And like a goddess, you deserve to be worshipped,” he rasped as he nudged her thighs wide with his hands and settled his broad shoulders between them.
He’d done this sinful act in the past, but Annalise had never allowed herself to enjoy it. It had felt wicked to revel in the feel of his mouth on her, but this time was different. This time Annalise would not demure. No longer would she be timid in exploring the ways of the flesh. At this moment, she shook with the anticipation of feeling her husband’s mouth on her.
At the first swipe of his rough tongue against her flesh, she cried out, clenching the sheets with her fists.
“Lord, but you taste heavenly.” He nuzzled the inside of her thigh.
Phillip did not give her a moment to respond before he resumed his ministrations, and all of her coherent thoughts ceased. The only thing she was aware of was the feel of him bringing her unending pleasure. When she finally came in a burst of sparks, he crawled up her body and gathered her close to his chest.
“Thank you,” he whispered against her hair.
Frowning, she shook her head. “For what?”
“For welcoming my touch.”
Annalise looked up at him then, twisting her arms around his neck and bringing her breasts to press against his chest. “I crave your touch, and I would like you to touch me some more.”
Phillip closed his eyes to hide the surge of emotions that her words brought forth.
His body felt like a violin string pulled too taut, at risk of snapping at any moment. But with her taste still on his tongue, and her lush body pressed to his, it took all of Phillip’s willpower not to lay her down and thrust into her. His Annalise deserved better than an animalistic rutting.
Yet when she ran her hands down his back, her nails scoring his skin, before sinking into the rise of his buttocks, Phillip knew he could hold back no longer.
Rising over her, he settled between her legs and rubbed his cock over her, groaning at her wetness.
“I told you I desired your touch.” She pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek before nipping at his ear lobe.
“And I have wanted to touch you since I walked through the front door. I have always wanted to give you everything,” he gasped as he sank into her hot heat.
Annalise arched her back, presenting him with the long column of her throat. He pressed his lips to the spot where her pulse raced and inhaled her intoxicating essence. She smelled of woman and desire and hypnotic abandon. From the very first, she had made him forget all his wants and plans and left him completely enthralled.
“I’ve missed this,” she breathed, her dark eyes glazed over. “I’ve missed you.”
“Not as much as I’ve missed you,” he moaned, gripping her hips and thrusting. “I assure you.”
And then words were no longer possible. Every part of his being was consumed with her. With Annalise. She moved with him, tilting her hips to take him deeper, spreading her thighs to wrap them about his waist, running her hands and nails over his shoulders and holding him in a firm embrace. He’d always enjoyed the intimate moments they shared, but never had Annalise been as active, as invested, as she was now. Phillip didn’t know what to think of it, and as he pressed a kiss to her perfect breast, he decided he didn’t care.
Their lovemaking became desperate, as if both of them realized, once again, how very good they were together. Phillip lost himself in the feel of her around him, reveled in how consumed she was with him and his touch. And when she linked her hands with his, their fingers locking together and their palms pressed tight, he looked into her eyes and watched her climax crash over her. As if she acted it on a stage, Phillip experienced her mini death as she moaned and squeezed him in release.
This combined sensory stimulation collided in his lower back, and when she sank her nails into his shoulders as she rode out the last remnants of her release, he plummeted over the edge. Pulling out of her warm body, he spilled his seed over her belly.
They panted their release face to face for several long moments.
“My goodness, that was delightful.”
Before he could contain himself, Phillip burst out laughing. “I’m relieved to hear it, my dear.”
Easing himself off of her, he reached for a drying cloth from the basin and cle
aned her. When he was done, he hesitated, unsure if she wanted his company now that their lovemaking was over.
Annalise must have sensed his uncertainty, for she grabbed him by the hand and squeezed his fingers.
Without a word, he crawled back onto the bed and pulled the covers over them before gathering her close. Phillip smiled when she hummed in the back of her throat as she lay her cheek on his shoulder. They lay in silence, and he felt all the tension still remaining after that satisfying bout of sex ease from his body like water through a sieve.
It occurred to Phillip that for the first time in their married life, it actually felt as if they were truly husband and wife. It was a novel thought, and a rare grin overtook his face.
Phillip had no idea how he would depart for Wales and be able to leave Annalise behind.
Chapter Seven
Annalise sat at her vanity the following morning, applying a touch of almond oil to the skin under her eyes, which were dark and slightly puffy after a sleepless night of repeated bouts of lovemaking. Beth entered her chamber, and from the reflection in the mirror, Annalise could see the girl’s face was drawn and her eyes bloodshot.
“Whatever is the matter, dearest?” she said, turning about and grasping her daughter’s hands.
“Mother, I do not know what to do.” Beth hiccupped, a testament to her agitation. “After thinking about the situation for the last two days, I had finally decided to call off the wedding with Silas. But then this letter was delivered.”
She held out a folded scrap of parchment with trembling hands. Annalise searched her daughter’s face for any sign of the letter’s content, but Beth’s facade showcased only doubt and despair.
Unfolding the paper, Annalise read.
My dear Miss Dalton,
It grieves me more than you know to have been bereft of your sunny smile the last few days. Whilst I know you are busy with wedding details and reacquainting yourself with your long-absent father, I do hope you will set aside time to spend with me, your dutiful, neglected future husband. Perhaps you would be free for a ride in my barouche tomorrow at two in the afternoon? Unless I receive a letter in objection, I will arrive at your home to escort you. Never fear, my mother will serve as chaperone. As always, she is mindful of your reputation.
Until tomorrow, my dearest.
Yours most affectionately,
Silas Newell
Annalise felt nauseated simply holding the letter. Whatever made her think such an ingratiating man was worthy to marry her daughter?
Tossing the paper onto the vanity, she met Beth’s gaze in the mirror. “First, it was quite inappropriate for Mr. Newell to write you. You’re not married yet. Second, what part of that letter has you in tears?”
Beth raised her shoulders, her face twisted in confusion. And perhaps exasperation. “He was so kind in it. He missed me. Perhaps I’ve misjudged him.”
I've taught her this, Annalise thought. Beth had followed her example of giving everyone, including her often absent husband, the benefit of the doubt. She still considered it an admirable quality…until it led to willful ignorance.
Annalise pinned her with a stern look. “And the next time he is disrespectful to you? Or Mrs. Newell is, and Mr. Newell does nothing to defend you? What will you think then?”
“I—I…” Beth shook her head. “I don’t know.”
Rising to her feet, Annalise led her daughter to the bed, where she encouraged the girl to sit next to her.
“Mr. Newell’s solicitousness now does not erase the things he did or did not do before. It doesn’t absolve him of the very great sin of saying nothing when his mother insulted you. How do we know he doesn’t agree with her?” She paused, tucking an errant curl behind Beth’s ear. “How do we know he is not marrying you simply because you’re quite pretty and are in possession of a tidy fortune?”
Beth gasped. “Silas would never be that mercenary!”
Annalise scoffed. “Has he disavowed his mother’s claims?”
Dropping her chin to her chest, Beth shook her head.
“And he has not apologized for his past behavior, merely throwing pretty words your way.” Squeezing her fingers, Annalise whispered, “Have you confronted him about it?”
Beth held her silence, which was answer itself.
“My darling girl, you are worth so much more than what Mr. Newell is giving you. Do you not see it?”
Before Beth could answer, a voice interrupted from the doorframe. “Is something wrong?”
Phillip stood within the frame, looking tall and handsome. And in his simple black coat, white shirt with a black cravat, dark green waistcoat, and black trousers, he looked severe and more than a little imposing. But Annalise knew his austere demeanor was a shell surrounding the thoughtful man he tried to hide. He’d shown her again, just that morning, how tender and passionate he could be.
She fought back a blush when he met her gaze, and although his expression changed not one whit, she sensed him soften when he looked at her.
Beth, in contrast, straightened her spine at her father’s words, and quickly brushed at her cheeks.
Realizing her daughter had once again gone silent, Annalise smothered a sigh. She wasn’t sure what to do. It was obvious Beth was apprehensive about disclosing the topic of their discussion to her father, but it occurred to Annalise that Phillip’s perspective might be helpful.
A certain sadness lurked about the lines fanning from the corners of his eyes as he considered Beth, and her heart broke just a little. Here stood a man who so fiercely wanted to be a part of his daughter’s life and had not yet been granted entrance to the inner sanctum. Perhaps his assistance with this matter would finally allow him to do that.
With one final look at Beth, Annalise beckoned Phillip closer with a jerk of her head. “Beth is telling me about issues she’s encountered with Mr. Newell.”
His brows arched for only a second before they relaxed back into his usual placid expression, but she noticed the uncharacteristic show of surprise. Easing onto the chair at her vanity with easy grace for a man so large, he studied their daughter.
“Why don’t tell me about these issues, poppet? Perhaps I can help.”
“I don’t see how you could. I don’t even know how to help myself.” Beth dropped her head, her voice hoarse with unshed tears.
Bracing his elbows on his knees, he leaned toward her. The movement seemed to draw Beth’s attention, for she glanced up at him.
“I may not be able to do anything specific to help, but I’ve found that sometimes talking through a problem helps me to see it from different angles. Also, sharing my troubles may allow another person to consider the situation from a perspective that has eluded me.” His lips tipped up, and Beth’s did the same in response. “And sometimes it simply helps to vent, do you not agree?”
Beth stared at him for a long moment before she nodded. Toying with the sash about her waist, she whispered, “Mrs. Newell has insulted me on several occasions, and Mr. Newell has done nothing to defend me from her comments.”
“Oh.” That was all Phillip said before he flexed his jaw.
Annalise suspected he was working to contain his anger at the older woman and possibly attempting to formulate a reply that did not contain curse words and threats of bodily harm for Mr. Newell.
Clearing his throat, Phillip visibly relaxed his shoulders. “I think it may be best for you to start at the beginning and tell me how you met Mr. Newell in the first place. I confess I do not know the story.”
A surge of relief coursed through Annalise at Phillip’s approach. He was attentive yet gentle, and it appeared to soothe Beth’s skittishness toward him.
Spreading her hands over her skirts, the girl sighed. “I met him at a gathering at the assembly room. He had been living in London but returned to Bristol when his father became gravely ill. After the elder Mr. Newell passed away, Silas stayed to be of comfort and assistance to his mother.”
“An admirable gesture, I’
m sure,” Phillip murmured.
“I thought so,” Beth agreed. “Several of my friends were quite taken with him and hoped to make a good impression.”
“But what about you?” Phillip cocked his head to the side. “What did you think about him?”
Shifting, Beth’s cheeks flushed a rosy shade. “I…I don’t remember thinking anything.”
Annalise pressed her lips together as she met her husband’s eyes. Somehow that simple confession explained so much. Her tender-hearted daughter had been pining for Henry Ramsgate, the young man who had departed for London and never returned. How could she possibly notice Mr. Newell when her attention and her heart were diverted elsewhere?
“I’m sure that’s perfectly understandable. At a crush, it would be easy to miss your best friend if you weren’t looking for her.” He hesitated for just a moment, his gaze darting to Annalise for a brief moment before looking away again. “I still count it a lucky day when I noticed your mother at a gathering held at the assembly room.”
Beth’s eyes went wide. “I didn’t know you met Mama at the assembly room.”
“I didn’t say I met her there. I said I noticed her there.” Phillip knotted his hands in his lap. “There’s a difference.”
“When did you see me at the assembly room?” Annalise asked, heat creeping up her back. Surely, she would have remembered him. Wouldn’t she?
Phillip brushed imaginary lint off his breeches. “I was on leave. My first leave since my father bought me a commission, and I agreed to accompany him and Charles to the ball, only because he made me feel guilty for not attending. I was sipping gin out of a flask when I saw you. You were laughing. A sound that reminded me of a sunshine after a long, dreary rainstorm. I, of course, remembered you from years earlier—as if I could ever forget—but I wasn’t sure you would remember me. You were surrounded by several gentlemen and looked so diverted.”
Her mouth gaped and it took Annalise a moment to close it. “You saw me and did not say anything?”
Phillip nodded, his expression contrite.
The Captain's Midwinter Bride (Holiday Novella) Page 8
