He nodded. “I’ve thought every day about our conversations, as well as my conversations with others. About trust. About the future. And yes, you are correct when you say I’ve held back. I’ve been trying to figure out how to overcome our past and my feelings.”
She flinched slightly, his words lashing at her no matter how gently they were put. “Your feelings,” she repeated dully.
“Elise, if I want your honesty, then I must be equally honest with you. So allow me to begin. When you told me what you’d done to save my sister, to save me, I had two reactions. One was deep sorrow and gratitude at your sacrifice. The other was anger. I was angry at you for not allowing me to help. Angry at you for making a decision that should have been ours to make. Not yours, not mine. Ours.”
“But I explained—”
“Oh, I know,” he interrupted. “I know your reasons. I hear them and with a little bit of distance, I can even accept that you were right about how if I’d known the truth, I’d have gone off half-cocked and quite possibly made the entire situation worse.”
She wrinkled her brow. “And yet you were still angry?” she asked.
He sighed. “Yes. Angry that you were put in that situation. Angry that you chose to handle it as you did. Perhaps what I was most angry at was what we lost. I raged against a past that never happened and a future that couldn’t ever be.”
She caught her breath. “No?”
“No, because we are both different people and a great deal has happened between us. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t want our future to be a very happy one. Together. Do you understand my feelings?”
“Yes,” she whispered when she could speak. “And I’m so sorry, Lucien.”
He cupped her cheeks. “My love, I don’t ask for an apology. What I am doing is trusting you by giving you my pain. Trusting that you will protect the wound and help heal it now that you understand.”
“I would move mountains to heal it,” she whispered, awestruck by what he was saying and offering. “But does that mean you’ve forgiven me? That we can start over?”
He drew back. “Not exactly. You see, while thinking about my feelings, I also gave a great deal of thought to what I want. I keep telling you that I need your trust to move forward, but I never defined what that trust meant to me. It was unfair. But in talking to a good friend, I realized what it was I needed.”
Her lips parted. “And what is that?”
“You and I have known each other almost our entire lives,” he said with a soft smile. “I know you all the way up until the moment that you wrote that letter breaking me away from your life. And yes, I’ve reconnected with you since that happened. But I have no idea what has happened to you to shape you in that time. I have no idea of your suffering or even any small joys you took while you were in the prison of that marriage.”
She caught her breath. “You want…you want…”
“What I want, Elise, what I need, is to know what you went through. To know what happened to make you the person you are today. The person I married and pledged to share my life with today. Would you tell me that? Would you trust me enough to open up those guarded parts of your past?”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Elise took a long step backward and a wild terror lit up in her eyes that Lucien had never seen before. She looked ready to bolt, but he knew if she did, they might never have a chance like this again. And he wanted that chance. He wanted to be free and to have her be free with him.
“Lucien, you don’t want to hear that,” she whispered. “And I don’t want to say it.”
He frowned, watching her lips tremble, feeling her pain pulse just beneath the surface. “I asked, didn’t I?”
She turned her face, breaking the tenuous link between them. “For weeks, you haven’t asked,” she whispered. “And I’ve been glad of it. You know enough, don’t you? You don’t need all the ugly truth.”
“It isn’t out of a salacious need that I ask this of you now,” he explained, not rushing her or speaking sharply. “Or out of some desire to hurt or punish you. I want to hear your missing part, your broken story, out of…”
He hesitated. He hadn’t said this yet. He didn’t want to use it against her or manipulate her with it. But it mattered.
“Out of what?” she asked, her voice shaking as much as her hands.
“Love, Elise.”
She turned on him, her eyes wide, and she swallowed hard. “Don’t tease me,” she whispered. “Please don’t.”
“It isn’t a tease,” he reassured her. “I love you. And I need you to put your trust in that and in me. Please.”
“It’s too much, Lucien,” she said, and the pain in her voice stung like fire. She was on the edge of breaking down.
“I know it’s too much,” he said softly. “Let me take it. Let me help you carry it. Please. Please.”
She shut her eyes, and he could see her gathering herself, preparing herself. He prayed that she would give in to him, to what they could be and have. He prayed she would be his again, in every way.
“Are you certain this is what you want? Even though you can’t take it back once you hear it?”
He nodded. “It’s what I need, Elise. It’s what we need.”
“I was never Kirkford’s wife,” she said, her voice barely carrying in the quiet room. “I was his puppet. His toy. He brought me out when he wanted to show off that he had won. When he didn’t…well, I was put back on the shelf.”
Lucien shuddered at those words. “It must have been horrible.”
She shrugged. “I was happy enough for it, I suppose. When he left me alone, I didn’t have to endure him.”
She emphasized the word, and they both knew to what she referred. He stiffened and asked, “Did he hurt you?”
“No. It wasn’t like Felicity,” Elise rushed to say. “But he wasn’t gentle with me, either. My needs were nothing to him, just as no one’s needs meant anything to him. He took, he left, I prayed he’d find something else to do and celebrated when he did.”
“He did often, so I hear,” Lucien said through clenched teeth.
Color filled her cheeks. “Oh yes, his infidelity was widely known. He bragged about it even with me in the room. I remember once we were hosting a party and I was standing with him and one of his friends. The friend complimented me, said I looked pretty, I think. My husband snorted and said, ‘You should see my mistress’.”
“God,” Lucien said, fighting the urge to pace away. He had asked for this pain, he had to take it. To bear it and witness it. “I’m so sorry, Elise.”
“It was lonely,” she admitted, “but I found ways to harden myself to it. To accept it. I know people said I was cold, but I was cold to protect myself.”
He nodded. When he first saw her, he’d thought she was unaffected by it all. He’d accused her, at least in his mind and likely by his actions, of having no heart. Now he understood why she had buried it so deep.
If he could excavate that heart even a fraction, he was proud of that fact. And he knew it would be his job to protect it.
“I think the worst part of it all,” she continued, “was how I was seen after I threw you over. I would never be free, not just of him, but of all the hatred felt by those who once loved or even liked me. I would never be free of your hatred. That broke me more than anything he ever did.”
“No,” he said, moving toward her at last. “I do not hate you, Elise.”
She smiled at that declaration, but he saw her hesitation still. He heard it when she sighed, “Oh, but what does it matter now? It doesn’t change what I did to you. I still caused you pain.”
He frowned. “That is not the first time you’ve said that. You told me the same thing when I asked why you didn’t tell me the truth even after Kirkford was dead and you and I found each other again.”
She nodded. “And I still feel it is true. You have married me to protect me, but do I deserve that? Do you deserve th
e censure and gossip that is already spreading through London like a wildfire? Once again you’ll be hurt by my presence in your life.”
He stared at her, truly understanding her perhaps for the first time in years. “Our trouble is not that you don’t trust me or that I don’t trust you, is it? Our trouble is that you don’t believe you are worthy of a future.”
She made a strangled sound and he saw the truth of his statement reflected on her face. She tried to turn away, but he caught her arm and held her in place gently, forcing her to hold his stare.
“I forgive you, Elise,” he said slowly, succinctly. “But if won’t matter if you don’t forgive yourself.”
Tears slid down her face and she stared up at him with all her pain hanging on her every movement and twitch. “How can I?”
“Just say it,” he whispered. “Just say it for a start.”
She bent her head, and the words came out as a sob. “I forgive myself.”
She buckled and he caught her, holding her against his chest as she wept. He felt the pain pouring out of her, like poison from a wound. He had no doubt that she would have to revisit this action, probably for a long time to come.
But for the first time since he saw her in Vivien’s parlor a few weeks before, he knew that everything between then would be well.
He pulled away and smiled down at her. “Now tell me one more thing, Elise.”
She wiped at her tears. “What?”
“Do you love me?”
She leaned up, putting her face close to his, never breaking away from his stare. “I never stopped loving you in the three years we were apart. When my parents died, I was utterly alone. I knew I had no one left in my life who loved me. And then your note arrived.”
He winced. When she had mentioned to his mother her appreciation for her note of condolence, he had hoped that meant she had forgotten his. “It was not well written,” he said softly.
“It was short,” she admitted.
“Curt,” he whispered, thinking of how he had written and rewritten and rewritten that letter. Until his hand hurt.
“But it meant so much to me,” she said. “Knowing how you hated me but were still willing to reach out in my saddest moment. I kept that damn note for months until Kirkford found it and destroyed it. But he couldn’t destroy my memory of it.”
“I wish I had been there for you.”
She shook her head. “You were, in my heart. And when I heard you were to marry Celia, I thought I would shatter from the pain of it. Kirkford crowed and I died a little inside. But when I found out your engagement had ended, it was the only light in my darkness. I knew I couldn’t have you, even though Kirkford was dead by then. I believed I’d never even see you again, but still…you were there and in the world and you were free. It was a selfish thing to want, but I did.”
He reached for her, overwhelmed by these continued confessions, but also by her absolute faith that he would hear and protect her. And now he would.
“Listen to me. You have me, Elise. In a way, you always did.” He stroked her cheek. “And I promise you, from this day forward, as long as I have breath in my body, you always will. That is my wedding vow to you, not the ones said up at the house. This. I will love you until my world ends. And I will love you in the next.”
Her face crumpled a little and he realized his own cheeks were damp. He didn’t care. He could give her those emotions, too, and for once he knew he could trust her with them.
“I love you,” she murmured, wrapping her arms around his neck. “And I will never waste a moment of this second chance. I realize that it is a rare and special thing.”
“Good,” he said, lifting her against him, off the floor as he cupped her backside and began to carry her out of the main room and up the stairs into the master quarters. “Because I think we’ve wasted enough of them already. And it’s time to truly make you my wife.”
Elise couldn’t believe how much she and Lucien had laughed as he helped her undress. It was like confession, trust, forgiveness, had burned away all the bad and left only hope and happiness. Now she lay on his bed, naked, watching as he stripped away the last remnants of his own clothing.
Her heart stuttered and her breath caught as she looked at him. He was all wiry strength and coiled muscle as he stalked toward her. And he was ready for her, too, as proven by the thick cock that curled proudly against his belly.
“I’ve been waiting for this since we agreed to wed,” he murmured as he took a place next to her. He rolled onto his side facing her and placed a hand against her bare skin.
She shivered at the press of his rough flesh against her softness. “I’ve been waiting for this almost all my life,” she murmured before she leaned in to kiss him deeply, passionately, with all the love she felt for him and all the hope she now dared to have.
He smiled against her lips, lifting his hands into her hair as he rolled onto his back and drew her over him. She pulled away, understanding his surrender as exactly what it was. He was showing her his trust in her now.
And she wasn’t about to waste it or this moment when she had control over their lovemaking. She sat up on her knees and looked down the long length of his naked body. In that moment she knew exactly what she wanted to do. She leaned in, gently kissing and licking his neck, sliding her lips across his collarbone, his broad chest.
He caught his breath as she inched lower, swirling her tongue around one flat nipple with the same focus and pressure that he had with her nipples so many times.
“What are you doing?” he murmured, his voice low and rough.
She looked up the length of his body even as she pushed his legs open with one hand, creating a space for her to kneel in as she worked her mouth over his stomach.
“Exactly what you think I’m doing. Don’t argue.”
He said nothing more, just settled back, his hands folded behind his head as he watched her intently. She kept her gaze locked with his as she kissed his hip then slid her mouth over and smoothed her cheek against his cock.
He made a strangled noise and lifted against her slightly. She smiled, her heart swelling with love and the knowledge that she could move him just as he so often moved her.
Slowly she darted her tongue out and licked the length of his cock, starting at the base and sliding up to the tip in one long, languid stroke. He responded by cursing, and she laughed.
“Is that a message to stop or keep going?” she teased him.
His eyes narrowed. “Whatever you do, don’t stop,” he said, his voice almost impossibly rough.
She licked him again, swirling her tongue around his length over and over and over.
Slowly she pressed her mouth around him, lowering herself to take as much as she could before she withdrew. As he moaned, she paid attention, sliding over him harder and faster, then slower when he clenched his fists against the coverlet. She found that even though she was doing this only for him, even though he didn’t touch her in any way, her body grew heavy, wet as she took him. She snaked one free hand between her legs and restlessly touched herself as she brought him closer and closer to the edge.
Finally he moaned deep and low, and then he caught her arms and dragged her up his body.
“This is not where I’m going to spend for the first time with my wife,” he growled before he crushed his mouth down on hers, shifting their positions so that his bigger body half covered hers, holding her in place as he smoothed a hand down her body and joined her fingers between her legs.
“I would very much like to watch you touch yourself,” he murmured as he kissed her neck. “We’ll put it on the list of ways to pleasure you later.”
He pushed her hand aside gently and covered her fully with his. His fingers parted her folds, sending electric pleasure through her body as he pressed a thumb to her clitoris and two fingers deep into her wet, clenching sheath.
She moaned his name, arching against his chest as pleasure rolled throu
gh her body in a slow, building wave. He watched her, breath heavy, eyes hooded as he stroked and stroked until her back arched and she shuddered out a climax against his fingers.
He lifted them to his lips and licked away the slick evidence of her release before he moved into the space between her legs and positioned himself there.
“Look at me,” he whispered.
She did so, locking gazes with him without hesitation. She saw everything she’d ever wanted in his stare, everything she’d given up hoping for, everything that would come in their future together. And it was like looking straight into heaven.
She cupped his cheeks, smiling up at him in pure joy.
“You are my wife,” he said, sliding into her in one long stroke. “My love. My life.”
She nodded. “And you are mine, at last. Forever.”
He crushed his mouth to hers as he took her in heavy, hard strokes. Her clitoris, still sensitive from her previous orgasm, ground against his pelvis as he took her, and she let out a cry as pleasure mobbed her a second time. He groaned her name loudly against her neck as she milked him, and then he spent deep inside of her, grinding his hips against her body as they shuddered together.
He collapsed over her, whispering all his love to her as she smoothed her hands over his back and held him close to her. It felt like a heavenly eternity, but at last he lifted his head and smiled at her.
“Am I crushing you?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I like your weight. It lets me know this is real.”
He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “It’s real.”
He rolled to his side, gathering her up against him in the safety of his arms. She snuggled against his chest, at peace for the first time in what felt like forever.
“How long can we stay here?” she asked at last.
He smoothed a hand over her hair. “Days,” he promised. “Food will be delivered, we’ll be left alone otherwise.”
She glanced up at him. “But—but what about Felicity?”
One Summer of Surrender Page 20
