by Wendy Vella
“I want you very much, Emily.”
“Really?”
“Really,” Cam rasped.
Gripping a handful of the silk, he raised the hem and slid his hand beneath to cup her thigh. He bit back a moan at the feel of her warm skin. Moving upward, he took the material with him.
“Raise your hands.”
“I....”
“Trust me.”
She did as he asked, and he slid the nightdress off her body.
“Christ, you’re exquisite,” Cam breathed, looking at what he’d uncovered. Long slender limbs, pale, satin skin. Breasts the perfect size for his hands, and nipples his mouth wanted to caress.
She tried to move away, tried to cover herself, but he wrapped a hand around her waist and pulled her back into his body. Taking her mouth, he kissed her once more. Deeper, more urgent, he let Emily feel his need for her; she did not believe his words, but perhaps she’d believe the evidence she felt in his body.
Lifting her into his arms, he carried her to the bed, pulled back the covers, and lowered her.
“I’m going to take off my robe now.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Emily could not make herself move. Her limbs were no longer her own, and her body was infused with a need she’d never experienced before. Cam’s touch had ignited her, his kisses driven her to seek more. It was as though a fever chorused through her veins.
She could not draw her eyes away from what he revealed. The hard-muscled plains of his chest appeared first, and then the shoulders ridged with more muscles. Her eyes ran over the first man she had ever seen naked, and Emily fought the sudden urge to flee. With so much power and strength, he could harm her with little effort.
“I will not hurt you. Remember our promise.”
She found his green eyes, steady on hers. How had he known her thoughts?
“I remember.”
She did not look lower than his chest, not wanting to see his arousal. She wished now she had let Eden tell her what happened between a man and a woman, because the only stories she knew were those her brother had told her. His mind had become twisted and warped, and he’d told her horrible things about what a man did to a woman, and yet here now, with Cam, she did not believe him capable of such terrible deeds.
He held her eyes as he moved to where she lay. Placing a knee on the bed beside her, he leaned in and took her mouth again, and Emily could do nothing to stop from reaching for him. Even through her fear she wanted his kisses again. Wanted him to take away her thoughts and replace them with that wonderful burst of heat.
“Don’t hurt me, Cam.” Emily had no wish to be weak or pathetic, but right at that moment she needed his reassurance again. Needed it more than her next breath.
“Never,” he whispered against her lips. “Remember our promise, love.”
She nodded. Cam used endearments as others used names, it was his way, Emily knew that, but even so it warmed her to hear them spoken to her now.
“One question?” he asked the words into her neck.
“Wh-what?”
“Do you like my touch, Emily?”
She could not lie.
“Yes. And you, Cam. You are the one with experience, can you find pleasure with me... an innocent?”
His lips trailed over her face, kissing her nose and chin then down the column of her neck, leaving heat wherever they roamed. The breath escaped her lips on a sigh as his hand smoothed the skin of her ribs.
“I have never felt as I do now with another woman.”
She cupped his face, needing to see his eyes for the truth. He held still and let her look.
“You really meant that.”
“Of course. I would never lie to you about something like this.”
He eased out of her hands and placed a kiss on her lips before moving lower.
“Beautiful.” His words brushed the damp skin of her neck that his kisses had left behind, making her shiver. “I want to worship every inch of you.”
No man had spoken to her in such a way. No man had wanted her like this. It was a heady thought. Lifting a hand, she touched his hair, running her fingers through the black locks. Soft and springy. She dug deeper and found his scalp. He moaned as she stroked.
“I like your touch.”
His words were hoarse, and Emily heard the passion. Her body felt different suddenly, her breasts fuller, and heat pooled between her thighs.
Emily gasped as he cupped her breast, his thumb stroking a nipple, making her arch as a spike of desire shot through her.
“Just feel, sweet.”
She was. His masterful hands were creating a torrent of sensation inside her, and she wanted more, wanted his mouth. Dare she seek it out? Dare she touch more of him?
Tentative at first, she stroked the skin of his shoulder, feeling the heat and strength.
“Yessss.”
Encouraged by his response she trailed her fingers down his side, enjoying the warm slopes and planes of muscle. Her fingers clenched as his mouth reached her breast, the sensation beyond description as he licked around her nipple.
“You have delicious breasts, Emily. The perfect size for my hands and mouth, and your nipple... ah now, there are no words to describe the beauty of it.”
“I-I’m sure you’ve seen m-more.” She arched off the bed as the last word left her lips. His mouth had closed over her nipple, tugging on the peak, sending fire through her body.
“Dear Lord!”
She hardly dared to believe what was happening, that she and Cam were doing this, but she could scramble no other thought but one. More. Her body craved more.
His lips moved then, traveling downward.
“Wh-what are you doing?”
Emily struggled to roll away but he placed a hand gently on her stomach, holding her there.
“Trust me.”
The look he sent up her body made her stop struggling. Such smoldering heat in the green depths. He was as consumed by passion as she.
“Remember our promise,” he whispered, moving lower.
“B-but....”
The word fell away as he reached the curls between her thighs. Dear Lord.
His tongue found the damp folds and burrowed through to the hard peak. Emily forgot to argue at the first sweep of his tongue. She writhed as pressure climbed inside her, begging for more... begging for something but she knew not what. His mouth stirred her to a frenzy, and soon she was clutching the bedcovers and making noises she’d never uttered before.
“Cam, oh please,” she cried, as he slipped a finger inside her. Emily was hit with a storm of sensation that made her arch off the bed. When she regained her senses, she found him braced above her.
“I don’t think I’ll ever tire of seeing that particular look on your face.”
“I... what….” Before she could finish he’d settled between her thighs.
“This will hurt, love, but briefly and only the first time.”
The muscles of his jaw were bunched as she felt him probing her entrance. His face, like that of a warrior going into battle, was tense and focused.
“You won’t hurt me.”
He stopped moving, his eyes seeking hers.
“You believe that?”
Emily nodded. She knew this now. No man could have treated her as he just had, and then hurt her. He’d shown her ecstasy, shown her gentleness, and so much more.
“I do.”
His eyes closed briefly, and then he leaned in and kissed her as his body took possession of hers. She wondered how he would fit as he breached her barriers, but soon he was there, sheathed deep inside her. It hurt, burned, and yet she did not dislike the feel of him inside her as she’d once believed she would.
“Em?”
“I’m all right, Cam.”
He braced himself on his arms above her, reading the truth in her eyes.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he gritted out.
“Would you stop if I asked you to?” She had to kn
ow, had to ask if his words had been the truth.
“Yes,” he rasped.
“I don’t want you to stop.”
“Thank God,” he moaned, easing out of her and slowly back in. There was a lingering tightness and pain, but it was not unbearable. Reaching for him, Emily grabbed his shoulders and pulled him down so their lips met. He came willingly. She felt it again, the sweet tension climbing higher inside her erasing the pain.
“Again, my sweet,” he whispered. “I need you to find your release for me again.”
His hand cupped her breast, stroking her nipple, and she felt herself reach the pinnacle once more, this time gripping a handful of Cam’s hair as she traversed it. He followed with a hoarse cry, collapsing on the bed beside her.
Both struggled to breathe.
Turning her head, she found him facing her. Eyes closed, hair tousled. He looked like a fallen angel. Her fallen angel. The long line of his body was lax and replete, unworried of his naked state. One large hand rested on her stomach.
Emily reached for the covers but he beat her, pulling them higher. He then eased her onto her side. Wrapping a hand around her waist, he pulled her back into his front.
“Sleep now,” he said, his words followed by a yawn.
Emily didn’t think she could sleep with a man... her husband. Looking down at the large hand holding her, she finally let the feelings inside her flame to life. Feelings that had sat dormant for so long. Since her first glimpse of Cambridge Sinclair she had felt something for him, only now could she put a name to what that was.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Cam was on his back when he woke. Sniffing the air as he always did, he smelled her, his wife. He found her pressed to his side, still sleeping. Her head was burrowed under his arm, and she lay on her front. He saw a cloud of blonde hair, the ends curling right and left, but little else as the covers were pulled to her shoulders.
Last night had been a revelation; he could find no other word to describe what had happened between them. Once she’d lost her inhibitions, Emily had been right there with him each step of their first sensual journey together. Smiling, he thought about the years they had ahead of them exploring the passionate side of her nature.
Who’d have thought that prim Miss Tolly, now Mrs. Sinclair, could be such a passionate woman in bed?
She stirred slowly, rolling out from under his arm and onto her side. The blankets slipped and he saw the swell of her breast and one rosy nipple. Cam’s body reacted in a typical manner but he quelled it. She would be sore this morning, and did not need him pouncing on her. Her face looked peaceful in sleep, as if the life that sat hard on her shoulders when she was awake did not hurt her in slumber.
Her eyes were still shut and he wanted to lean in and kiss her lips. They were soft, the bottom slightly fuller than top. She moved again, this time away from him, much to his regret. The covers slipped lower and his eyes traveled down the delicate line of her spine.
His wife.
There was a great deal of emotion inside Cam at that moment. All of which he knew was leading to something, but he was not ready to form it into a word yet. With one finger, he eased the covers lower, and it was then he saw it.
His body jerked as he studied the scar. Leaning closer, he followed the wicked line that ran from the middle of her back outward for several inches. A foot long a least, it was half an inch wide. His first thought was a knife had done that. It was old, the skin flattened and faded. He’d not seen it last night, because she’d been lying on her back, but he saw it now, and the rage inside him was swift.
I may never have met her!
“I’m going to kill someone,” he growled before he could stop himself.
She turned onto her back, eyes opening to look up at him. The gray depths were soft and sleepy.
“G-good morning.”
“Who hurt you?” Cam should have waited, should have let her wake with a kiss, but the fury inside demanded answers.
“Pardon?” She blinked several times, attempting to clear her head, then pulled the covers higher.
“Who inflicted that wound on your back.”
“I-I don’t know what you speak of.”
She quickly sat upright against the headboard, arms wrapping around the legs she’d drawn up to her chest.
He saw the gesture as protection; it was instinctive and he hated it. Hated that she felt the need to do so around him.
“Emily love, tell me who hurt you... please,” Cam said, moving closer, trying to cool the anger inside him.
She tried to turn away from him, but he held her chin in a hand.
“I fell on glass.”
“You’re lying. That mark was inflicted by a knife.”
“H-how could you know that?”
“I’ve seen knife wounds.”
“They are no different from being cut by glass. You cannot possibly tell between the two.”
“I can, and that was done by a knife. Who hurt you?”
“I don’t want to talk about it, and you should not have looked.”
“You were lying on your side, I could hardly fail to do so. Plus, your skin is like silk, and you’re beautiful. A saint would have struggled not to look at you lying there like that.”
She was silent, her eyes big as she studied him. There was a distance between them again, and he had put it there with his words.
“Forgive me, I had no right to wake you in such a way.” He hauled in a deep steadying breath. “I saw that scar and felt your pain.”
“It’s all right.”
She still had her hands wrapped around her knees, and Cam was not having her withdraw further from him after what they had shared. Reaching for her, he lifted her into his arms.
“What are you doing? Unhand me!”
“No. Now sit still and let your husband wake you properly.”
“I am already awake, thanks to you.”
“And there is my acid-tongued wife.”
“I’m not—”
He kissed her softly until she responded, as he’d known she would. Emily, Cam realized, would always respond to his kisses... his; no other man would have her.
“Good morning, wife.” He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.
“G-good morning.”
He would not push her about the scar now, which was hard for him as he was not a patient man.
“Are you hungry?”
She nodded.
“It was all the exercise we did last night,” he said with wicked smile. She colored up delightfully. “I had no idea you could scream my name that loud.”
“I did not!”
“You did actually. ‘Oh, Cam, more, Cam,’ you cried.”
“I did not.” She scowled.
“Perhaps not, but I enjoyed the lovely little sounds you made, and shall make it my life’s work to ensure I hear plenty more.”
She grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled it hard until he released her in a howl of pain.
“Eden told me that this would bring you to heel. It seemed she was right.”
“As long as I can bring you to heel as well, and I know just the way to do so.”
He kissed her breast, circling her nipple slowly. Her answer was to gasp.
“Alas, we cannot continue, as you are sore.”
“Oh.”
He didn’t laugh at her disappointment, but silently rejoiced in it.
“Tomorrow,” he whispered in her ear.
“I-I am not used to speaking of things openly,” she said, scrambling off the bed. “You Sinclairs like to discuss everything in such a manner. You will understand that I am not used to that.”
“Surely not everything,” Cam drawled as he watched her. He saw the scar again, and then she wrapped a blanket around herself, covering up all that delectable flesh.
Who had hurt her?
She attempted to glare at him, but looked like a rumpled angel. The blanket was around her Grecian style, and her hair fell in a tangled mess to
her hips. She looked luscious, and he had to drag his eyes from her, or get off the bed and carry her back onto it.
They washed and dressed, and Cam teased Emily as she attempted to put her hair back on top of her head, until she laughed.
“You, sir, are a scoundrel.”
“Surely not?”
“Yes, and far too used to having your own way.”
“You are not serious surely? With as many siblings as I have I’m not sure how I can have achieved that.”
She was dressed in one of his sister’s selections. Long-sleeved, the velvet was the color of blackberries that grew wild all over England. The style was simple, and the bodice a great deal more revealing than Emily usually wore. Cam liked it very much. Her usual clothing covered every inch of her. He must remember to thank his sisters for their meddling.
“These dresses are horrid,” she said, attempting to tug it higher. “There is no lace to tuck into it. I feel half dressed.”
“And yet you look beautiful.”
Her hands stopped fiddling with her hair.
“Only because you can see more of me.”
“I have always known you were beautiful, my sweet, even when you wore those hideous sacks made of equally hideous fabrics, in horrid colors.”
“They were not hideous, and extremely comfortable.”
“They were designed to disguise the female form, Emily, and as yours is lovely, I am glad that is no longer the case.”
“They will be waiting for me upon my return,” she muttered.
“I would not bank on that. My sisters can be ruthless when required.”
She gave up on her hair, instead putting it in a simple braid and twisting it into a circle on the back of her head.
Excellent, he would be able to release that later with very little effort on his part.
Cam watched as she picked up a small bottle of scent. Removing the stopper, she lifted it for a sniff at the same time a knock sounded on the door. The scent bottle slipped, spilling the contents on Emily.
