The kiss seeped through Lettie, the taste of brandy swirling through her, the heat of his mouth sinking into her very bones.
Nathaniel paused, taking her glass from her and setting it with his on the side table. Then he drew her into his embrace, his intense gaze sweeping over her. “I’ve been wanting to do this since you walked into the ballroom.”
“Truly?” she whispered breathlessly.
“Truly. I wanted to kiss you.” He pressed his lips to hers, making her long for more. “To touch you.” He drew a finger along the neckline of her gown, sending a shiver of desire through her. “To taste you.” He bent low to kiss the bare skin just below her throat, causing her to gasp.
She leaned her head back, reveling in both his words and the feelings his touch evoked. “That is lovely.”
“You are lovely. I would like to make you feel the same.” His heated gaze tangled with hers before he kissed her once more, his mouth even hungrier than before. His tongue swirled with hers as his hands rested on her waist, squeezing gently. He raised them to where the curve of her breasts began, and she caught her breath. The tip of her breasts tightened, making her wish he’d touch her there.
“You do,” she whispered, wanting to give as much as she received and kissed him once more. She had no intention of being the only one to experience passion this time.
She raised her hand to his whisker-rough cheek, loving how different it felt from her own. Then she ran her hands along the breadth of his shoulders, marveling at his strength. She slid a hand inside his jacket, anything to get closer to his heat.
He unfastened the buttons of his jacket and shrugged it off, then did the same with his cravat and vest, leaving him in his shirtsleeves.
“Letitia, you drive me mad.” He breathed in near her ear, sending a shiver of longing down her spine. “You smell of orchids. I can’t get it out of my mind.”
“Oh.” She had no idea a scent might be so engaging, but then as she drew in his woodsy fragrance, she knew it to be true. “I like how you smell as well. It reminds me of the woods, but with a slightly foreign layer to it.”
He smiled down at her before kissing her again, his tongue seeking hers, building her passion even more.
“I want you so badly,” he murmured.
Relief mingled with the desire flooding her body. She’d wondered, worried even, whether any man would ever feel that way about her. For so long, she’d thought something was lacking in her that made her unattractive to men. Now she realized she simply hadn’t met the right one. She couldn’t imagine feeling like this with anyone except Nathaniel. The idea of another man touching her like this was unimaginable.
She eased back to look into his eyes, her heart expanding with love. But she held back the words, certain this wasn’t the time for them. “I want you as well. So very much.”
He studied her closely. “Do you know what you’re saying?” The heat in his gaze curled her toes. The lines of his face had sharpened, becoming more defined. Did her desire change the way she looked as well?
Then his question sunk into her passion-fogged brain. “Yes.” And she did. There was no doubt in her mind. Right or wrong, she wanted Nathaniel. And somehow their being betrothed, even though it wasn’t real, helped to make it right. That, along with the way she felt here, in his arms. “Yes,” she said again, her heartbeat speeding at the thought of what was to come.
“Letitia.” He said her name with such reverence that it brought tears to her eyes. As she tried to blink them away, he touched her face. “Tears?” he asked, worry clouding his tone.
“Of joy,” she reassured him, offering a smile to prove it. “I feel so much when I’m with you. I’m overwhelmed in such a lovely way.”
“There is more to come,” he promised. He rose, gesturing for her to remain where she was while he went to lock the door. When he returned, he held out his hand to draw her to her feet. As she stood, he turned her so she faced the fire, her back to him. He wrapped his arms around her tight, nuzzling the sensitive area of her neck. “May I remove your gown?”
The question melted her inside. That he’d ask rather than assumed was one more gesture that swept away her last defense. “Please.”
How odd to feel a man’s fingers at the laces of her bodice. There was no mistaking how different they were from Cora’s. He soon lifted the loosened bodice over her head then pressed kisses along the bare skin of her shoulder. Layer by layer, he disrobed her, kissing and touching as he went until she was trembling with desire.
At last he turned her so she stood facing him in only her thin chemise and pantaloons. The look of reverence on his face swept away her nerves. With one finger, he reached out to touch the tip of her breast through the thin fabric, and she jerked in reaction. How could his touch there pluck a string that led to her very center?
Unable to bear it, she wrapped arms around him, kissing him as though she never intended to let him go. He returned the kiss, matching her bold passion with his own.
His hands spanned her waist and caressed her curves. They moved down to the flare of her hips, back to her bottom, then returned to cup her breasts, leaving heat in their path. Desire shot through her, weakening her knees, building layer upon layer as he touched her everywhere.
He eased her down to the settee where his mouth shifted to her neck, then lower still to the top of her chemise. He tugged down the chemise to reveal her breast, lifting it free, the pink tip startling to see in his masculine hand. Even more startling was his kiss there, licking and suckling until her head fell back. Her body filled with liquid heat.
She gathered herself, wanting to give him the same pleasure, anxious to feel his bare skin against hers. With clumsy fingers, she unbuttoned his shirt, parting the linen to reveal his muscled chest and the slight covering of hair that trailed down his abdomen. Fascinated at the sight, she ran her hands along his torso, loving the feel of him beneath her hands. Eager now, she eased off the shirt, loving how his shoulders bulged with corded muscles. He moved his arms to shed his shirt, and she couldn’t help but trace the shifting muscles.
“You are so different than me,” she whispered in amazement.
He laughed. “I am very glad for that.”
“As am I,” she said with a smile. “You’re so strong.”
“Then why do you make me feel so weak?” he whispered, as he drew her once more into his arms. “I can’t get enough of you.”
“That is lovely to hear.” She felt his smile against her skin and thought she’d never experienced anything as wonderful.
“So beautiful,” he murmured as he caressed the length of her curves.
“You understand my body far better than I,” she whispered. “What do you feel when I touch you?” She touched his chest, lingering at his male nipple.
His abdomen rippled inward, giving her a thrill.
“Letitia, your touch is nearly more than I can bear. I want you so much.”
She loved knowing that he felt that way, loved the power it gave her to touch him even more. But when it came time to remove the rest of her clothing, she hesitated, all her insecurities coming forth. She wriggled out of her pantaloons then slowly reached for the hem of her chemise, unable to find the courage to take it off as well. What if—
Nathaniel placed his hands over hers, helping her remove this last barrier. His moan as his reverent gaze swept along her bare body was all the reassurance she needed.
“Perfect,” he declared and drew her into his arms.
She blinked back tears once again, amazed at how he knew exactly what to say and do to make her feel so good. Love swelled through her, giving her the power to reach for him, to move her bare skin against his. His chest felt marvelous, the coarse hair adding another layer of sensation. His kisses made her head spin, and she was barely aware of him laying her back against the cushion of the settee. His body partially covered hers, his pants an unwelcome obstruction between them.
Her hands roamed across his broad back and e
xplored every hill and valley. His weight on top of her felt wonderful. His hands lingered here and there, alternately making her sigh and catch her breath. He explored her curves, seeming to enjoy every inch of her and, for the first time, she was grateful for her figure.
When his fingers grazed the top of her thighs, she couldn’t help but moan in response. Heat pooled low in her belly as he touched the juncture of her thighs, moving to her center, working magic as he went. As he caressed her intimately, her hips bucked in response, his fingers lingering until she could stand it no more.
“Nathaniel?” she whispered, needing him desperately.
He rose and took off his pants, his manhood springing free. She knew her eyes went wide at the sight, but he was so large.
Her gaze shifted to the jagged scar on his thigh, still red and puckered. She ran her hand along it, wondering at the terrible pain he must’ve endured. He sucked in a breath as his body moved in response. Curious, she shifted her fingers to touch the hot length of his manhood, amazed at its velvety softness.
“Letitia,” he ground out as he grabbed her hand. “Your touch undoes me.”
When she looked up at his face, she could see the desire etched there, echoing her own.
Releasing her hand, he lay down, his body once again on hers. He kissed her long and hard, his hands trailing a path along her heated flesh that had her writhing beneath him. He nudged her legs to settle between them. Then the tip of his manhood brushed against her, and all thoughts fled at the foreign sensation.
As though reading her thoughts, he eased back to look into her eyes. “Trust me?”
“Yes.” That much she knew beyond doubt.
Before her nerves could return, he kissed her again, his tongue dancing with hers as his manhood pressed against her, demanding entrance. With a growl, he lifted her knee slightly and eased inside.
Letitia froze at the pain of the invasion. This was nothing like she’d imagined. But desire swelled once more as the pain faded, and she couldn’t help but tilt her hips.
He dropped his forehead to hers as he stilled. He seemed to be fighting for control, but over what? With an oath, he sheathed himself, filling her completely. The sensation was remarkable, to have part of him inside her, to be joined in this way. She couldn’t help but move again, trying to understand how they fit.
“Oh, Christ. Letitia,” Nathaniel groaned. He drew back only to enter her again, the feeling more amazing than before. He repeated the movement, her body finding the remarkable rhythm he set.
And it was glorious. The movements layered on top of each other, overwhelming her senses. From his kisses, to his breath against her neck, to the weight of him, to the feeling of him inside her. Tightness coiled deep within her as her world shifted. Her hips thrust beneath his as though racing toward a common goal.
“My sweet,” he murmured as he reached down to touch her intimately, caressing her until that coil sprung free.
Her bottom lifted off the settee and he thrust deep inside her, his body shuddering with hers. She’d never felt such a shattering of her soul, only to have it gather above her, stronger than before, then floating down inside her once again, bringing with it a completeness she’d never experienced.
Nathaniel made her complete, she realized. Words of love came to her lips, but she held them back, uncertain of their welcome.
She could feel the strong beat of his heart slowly easing along with his breath. He shifted onto his elbows to look down at her, the concern in those blue eyes touching her heart. “Are you...well?”
“I am amazing.” She shook her head. “I had no idea.”
“Nor did I,” he whispered.
“What?” Confused at his response, she studied him.
“Nothing,” he said and closed his eyes for a moment before moving to her side to take her into his arms, his hands still caressing her.
He held her tight, as though he cherished her, but she knew something was on his mind. She could feel it. Her heart ached as she said a little prayer.
Please, please don’t let this be our one and only night together.
CHAPTER TWENTY
“...I found [the room] occupied by one man, two women, and two children; and in it was the dead body of a poor girl who had died in childbirth a few days before. The body was stretched out on the bare floor, without shroud or coffin. There it lay in the midst of the living, and we may well ask how it can be otherwise than that the human heart should be dead to all the gentler feelings of our nature, when such sights as these are of common occurrence.”
~ The Seven Curses of London
Nathaniel’s mind whirled as he walked toward the site of the new brothel the next morning. He wanted to study the place, take measure of its size, and with luck, see if anyone walked in or out of it. Unfortunately, his mind was not on the task before him.
Something significant had shifted last night when he’d taken Letitia as his own. Something he wasn’t certain he could name.
He’d never felt as he had with her. Their union hadn’t been only physical. It almost felt as though she’d taken a piece of him when they’d made...
Christ. He didn’t even know what to call it. But as crazy as it sounded, he now held a piece of her inside his heart. He had the ridiculous notion that from this point forward, nothing would ever be the same.
He couldn’t afford to permit such a sentiment. If he allowed himself to care for Letitia, to grow fond of her, then he had to wonder if she might feel the same, which meant he mattered to her.
Nothing in his previous existence made such a notion possible.
Nothing.
Yet even as he tried to call a halt to these bizarre concepts and feelings now holding him captive, part of him feared it was impossible. It was too late. The damage had already been done and there was no going back.
Nor did he want to.
Because there was nothing to go back to. His world had been empty before Letitia.
His steps slowed as he realized exactly what was bothering him. Fear.
In all his years of service, it was an emotion he’d rarely experienced, at least not for himself. He’d feared for the lives of his men, for the civilians that were often caught in the crossfire, but never for himself. Never for his own feelings or his life. He’d always understood he was expendable. His father had drilled that into his head as far back as he could remember.
He felt completely unworthy of any affection Letitia might have for him. He was afraid he didn’t deserve it, and he would fail her in some way, causing her to turn her back on him. He feared that once she truly knew him, without the mask he presented to the world, she would no longer care about him.
Wouldn’t it be wiser to walk away now before that happened?
In all honesty, he wasn’t certain he had the strength of will to do so. Where did that leave him?
With no true options.
Unable to solve the problem, he tried to put aside his roiling emotions and focus on the task before him.
He settled in a spot across the street from the two-story building. If this was truly the brothel, it was smaller than the one he’d rescued the other girls from. The exterior of the house was in far better shape. A fresh coat of paint had recently been applied. The front garden was well tended. It looked much like the other houses on this street. Perhaps that was the point.
He studied the front door. At first glance it appeared to have a wrought-iron front common in the neighborhood. But as he studied it closer, he realized it was far thicker than normal. The windows had decorative ironwork as well but painted white to be less noticeable. It seemed they were taking precautions to guard what they kept inside.
That meant he needed to do all he could to prevent the girls from arriving. But unless he knew where they were coming from or when, it was a difficult task.
Which brought him back to Jasper Smithby.
He was the true target. Finding Rutter or any of the other men involved in the operation would be helpful,
but not nearly as effective as finding Smithby.
After spending some time watching the front door, he made his way around to the back, taking the long way around, hoping his presence had escaped notice.
The rear garden was equally well enforced. The fence was in good repair from what he could tell at this distance. The plants offered few places to hide. What he’d accomplished at the other brothel would be far more difficult here.
He pondered drawing nearer, wondering if the reward would be worthy of the risk. He could do no good for anyone if he was caught.
He sensed a presence behind him but turned too late. A sharp jab in his ribs stopped him.
“What have we here?” a man’s voice asked.
Nathaniel didn’t bother to answer. He bent low and spun on the ball of his good foot in the opposite direction of where he’d felt the jab. He raised his forearm to shove away the man’s hand holding the knife.
Surprise was on his side as he drove his fist into his assailant’s middle. He gripped the man’s wrist tightly, forcing him to release the knife and it fell to the ground. Keeping a tight hold on his wrist, he spun again to twist the man’s arm behind him. With a hard shove, he wrenched the man’s arm up his back.
“Ack! Damn ye,” the man muttered.
“Next time, be careful who you disturb,” Nathaniel warned. “Just because you hold a weapon doesn’t mean you have the advantage.”
The man only groaned in response.
“Who sent you out here to confront me?” Nathaniel demanded.
“No one.”
He wrenched the man’s hand up farther, causing the man to squawk with pain.
“Who?”
“Rutter.”
Nathaniel sighed in disappointment and eased back on his hold. He’d hoped Smithby was inside so he could confront the man. But perhaps this was for the best. He didn’t want to underestimate Smithby, so he needed to be prepared when he confronted him. “Perhaps you’d be so kind as to give Rutter a message.”
“What would that be?” The man glanced over his shoulder warily at Nathaniel.
Loving the Hawke (The Seven Curses of London Book 1) Page 23
