CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The next morning, Matthew rode out alone while the other gentlemen went on the hunt. He had no interest in fox hunting, and Lily had promised to meet with him later today. The autumn air was crisp with the scent of damp leaves and an underlying chill. He could see traces of his breath in the air as he rode toward Penford.
Matthew spied Lily approaching with her footman, and she smiled when she saw him, lifting a hand in greeting. Her hair was tucked up beneath her black hat, and she wore a deep-green riding habit. The color accentuated the red undertones in her brown hair. He slowed his horse until he reached her side, and pulled the stallion parallel to her mount. “Good morning.”
“And to you.” Lily’s smile remained, and a faint blush rose upon her cheeks. “I see that you decided not to join the others in the hunt.”
“Cousin Amelia thought I should spend time with you instead. I agreed with her.” He took her hand and kissed it.
Lily motioned for her footman to ride ahead to Castledon, giving them privacy as they rode at a slower pace over the next few miles. It took nearly an hour, and she relished being in the company of the man she loved.
“Will you check on Mathilda once we arrive?” he asked.
Lily appeared embarrassed. “I know nothing about chickens, Matthew. I do hope she isn’t dead yet. I should hate to disappoint Verity.” She winced and added, “But yes, I will see if she has improved at all.”
The air of trouble lingered upon her face, and he asked, “Is everything all right, Lily? How is your mother?”
She tried to shake away her mood. “The same as ever. But there is something I wanted to talk to you about. I received a letter yesterday from your cousin Adrian.”
Matthew stiffened at the mention of the blackguard. No doubt his cousin was attempting to spread more stories in an effort to gain control of Arnsbury. But he forced himself to ask, “What did he say?”
Lily slowed the pace of her horse as they drew nearer to Castledon. “He warned that you have been lying to me, and said that he is the rightful Earl of Arnsbury.” She turned to him. “Matthew, what is he talking about? Why would he say something like this?”
Anger flared within him, but he kept a tight control over it. The last thing he wanted was to frighten Lily. Instead, he kept his voice calm.
“Adrian has been jealous of me all his life. There are some rumors that he’s trying to feed to raise himself up—primarily for his own monetary gain. He can never be the earl, and he knows this.”
Once they arrived, Matthew dismounted and summoned a groom. Then he helped Lily down from her horse. The groom took both animals away, and Matthew guided her toward the kitchen gardens to have a moment to speak in private. The herb gardens were withering away in the frozen air, but there were still a few patches of rosemary and mint. A gravel pathway led through the gate, and he stopped at the edge of the garden.
“My mother and father struggled for many years to have children,” he told her. “Adrian wants everyone to believe I am not their legitimate heir.”
He didn’t reveal the possibility that it could be true, for he had few answers right now.
Lily took his gloved hand in hers and squeezed it gently. “I am sorry he is causing trouble for you.”
“I won’t allow him to spread rumors that will harm my mother.” He suspected Adrian’s letter was meant to sow the seeds of doubt in Lily so she would not consider marrying him. It seemed he had no choice but to return to London to put a stop to his cousin’s schemes.
For now, he wanted to distract Lily from her worries. He lifted her wrist to kiss it and caught the scent of oranges. “You smell delicious,” he said, pressing his mouth to the underside of her wrist.
“It was a breakfast indulgence,” she admitted. “Oranges are Mother’s favorites, and James managed to get some from Italy, though I’m not certain how.”
He lowered her hand, softly stroking the pulse point of her wrist. But before he could answer, a resounding gunshot broke the stillness. Then another.
Lily jolted at the sound. Matthew dropped down, instinctively shielding her, though he was certain the shots were not close to them. She was trembling with fear, and the sight of her terror transformed him.
His heart pounded, and a rushing noise filled his ears, though there was silence surrounding them. It felt as if the rest of the world fell away, and he was plunged into an icy cold pool of memories.
The unwanted visions roared through him with the force of a locomotive. His vision blurred, and he was dimly aware of Lily’s presence. A dull rumbling resounded, and the echo of the gunshot reverberated in his mind. Lily’s face twisted into the face of his torturer.
Tell me where your soldiers are, and your pain will end.
I do not know.
Then the horrifying agony of white-hot pain made his back seize. He closed his eyes, trapped within the nightmare. Just as before, he felt as if he were drowning, caught up in a prison of the past. Even his skin was wet, though he could not tell if it was sweat or rain.
But this time, the scent of oranges broke through the nightmare.
He clung to the aroma, and a part of him became aware that he was not in India, but in England. The mossy ground beneath his fingertips was not desert sand, and he struggled to fight off the vision. The muddy scent of the earth, coupled with the falling rain, forced him to see the truth.
It isn’t real.
Someone was speaking to him, and he fought hard to listen to the words.
“Matthew, you’re safe,” he heard Lily say. “I am here.”
He lowered his face to her wrist, breathing in the scent of oranges again. The citrus tang pulled him back until his awareness returned. He breathed slowly, steadying his heartbeat. Her hands smoothed his damp hair, and he held her close, forcing his mind to be still.
“Are you all right?” he asked her.
“I should ask you the same.” Her worried hazel eyes stared at him. “I was startled by the gunshots, though I should have expected them.”
“The shots reminded me of India. It provoked another memory.” He realized they were both sitting on the ground. It was raining steadily now, and Lily’s hair was damp against her throat. He needed to take her inside, out of the bad weather.
“But this time, it was different. You did not stay lost in your visions.” Her voice was gentle, and she took his hand in hers. “You came back to me.”
It was the scent of oranges that had done it. Or perhaps it was Lily’s presence that broke through the past. Regardless, it was a small victory to know that he had not fallen into the darkness this time.
He kissed her hand, not knowing what to say. Then she leaned down and kissed his mouth. It was reassurance and love mingled in the touch of her lips, and he deepened the kiss. He hardly cared that the entire household could see them from the windows or that they were being rained upon.
He cradled her face with his hands, savoring the taste of her mouth until at last, she pulled back. “Will you ever tell me what happened to you?”
He gripped her hand and nodded. Somehow, he felt that she was right. If he told her everything, it might help alleviate the bad memories and lay them to rest. “I will, yes.”
He stood up from the ground, helping her do the same. “But first, I would like to get out of the rain and have a glass of brandy. Would you join me?”
Lily smiled in answer, taking his hand.
Lady Castledon clucked her tongue at the pair of them when they returned inside. “I cannot believe this weather. Ruining everything, isn’t it? Now then, let’s get you both something hot to drink, and you will want to sit by the fire.”
“Actually, I would like to change my riding habit first,” Lily said. “But I know Lord Arnsbury wished for brandy.”
“In a moment, dear, in a moment,” the countess reassured them. “Come into the library. There’s a warm blaze going, and I’ll bring the brandy.”
Lily rather felt like she was being tossed back into a storm, for Lady Castledon took her hand and led her down a narrow corridor, followed by Matthew. It was a longer walk than she’d imagined, and the library was nowhere near the main rooms of the house. Instead, it was tucked away in the west wing, in its own corner.
Inside, she found it to be much nicer than she’d imagined. As the countess had promised, there was a bright fire in the hearth, as well as a chaise longue with comfortable pillows. Lady Castledon poured them each a glass of brandy, though Lily would have preferred hot tea.
“Now, if you’ll sit here and relax, I’ll see to it that you have some food.” Lady Castledon smiled warmly and walked back to the door.
“I’m really not that hungry,” Lily protested.
“Nonsense. I will send a footman with food. Wait here.” And with that, the countess left the room, closing the door behind her. She had an air of triumph, and Lily could not imagine why.
“Is it me, or do you feel like she’s up to something?” Lily walked back toward the door, wondering what was happening. She opened it, not wanting to start gossip by being alone in the library with Matthew. It was quite possible that Lady Castledon was trying to win her bet by causing a scandal.
“If it’s Cousin Amelia, you can be sure she’s always up to something.” Matthew sipped at his brandy and leaned against the fireplace mantel.
Lily tried not to stare, but she was transfixed by the handsome planes of his face. The rain had darkened his hair, and she felt the sudden urge to touch it.
“I should probably go,” she murmured, as she reached for her own glass. Though she normally didn’t indulge in spirits, she worried about Matthew’s troubled interlude earlier. He still suffered from the visions, though it did seem that he could control them better.
She drank a small sip of the brandy, and it burned down her throat, warming her from the inside. “I’ll see if Lady Castledon has some dry clothes I can borrow.”
There came a knock at the library door, and a footman entered, carrying two large baskets. “These are from Lady Castledon, with her very best wishes.”
Lily’s suspicions heightened, for it was too soon for a servant to return with food, given the distance to the kitchen. “Isn’t the countess going to join us?”
“She must attend to her other guests. But she bade me give you this note.” The footman gave Lily an envelope and departed, closing the door behind him. Lily thought she heard an odd click, but it must have been her imagination.
“I don’t like this, Matthew. She’s matchmaking again—I’m sure of it. She and my grandmother made a wager about us.” Lily held up the note, which was sealed with wax. “She would not have had time to write this or to assemble the baskets.”
“It certainly seems that way.” He walked toward her. “Why don’t you read her note, and we’ll find out what Cousin Amelia is up to?”
Lily broke the seal and began reading.
Dearest Cousin Matthew and Lily,
Please do forgive me for interfering, but I could not stand by and allow two people so deeply in love to walk away from a life together. Lily, I know how Matthew cares for you, and Matthew, I know how long Lily waited for your return. Perhaps my methods might be rather scandalous, but I hope you might see this for what it truly is—a chance to be together.
Yours,
Amelia
“I’m almost afraid to open those baskets,” Lily said. “And what does she mean, she doesn’t want us to walk away from a life together?”
“I told her that you have not yet accepted my marriage proposal.” Matthew moved to the door and turned the knob. With a grim expression, he turned back to her. “It’s locked.”
“Oh, good Lord.” Lily lifted her gaze to the ceiling, feeling exasperated by the situation. “I cannot believe she would do this.” She had expected Lady Castledon to meddle and try to match them up together. But this was going too far.
Matthew rolled his eyes. “And of course, she chose a room far away from the rest of the house. We would have to shout to the rafters for anyone to hear us. I imagine Amelia has given the servants orders to ignore us.” He studied her. “What do you want to do?”
Her riding habit was sodden, and she stood up, shivering. “I don’t know. I need to think first.”
He noticed her discomfort and asked, “Are you cold from the rain?”
“A bit.” Lily moved a chair over beside the fire. With a sigh, she said, “Well, I suppose we should see what’s in the baskets. Perhaps it will give us an idea of how long she intends to leave us here.”
A part of her feared that Amelia was intending to keep them locked away for the rest of the afternoon. Or even worse, all night. She tried to think of how many people knew she was here and realized it was only her immediate family and Amelia. No one else had seen her.
Matthew opened the first basket and withdrew a bottle of wine. “It looks as if my cousin has packed enough food for the rest of the day.” Then he pulled out another bundle wrapped in cloth. “I believe we have bread and cheese here, some cold meats, and a cake.” One by one, he withdrew parcels and set them upon a nearby table. “One thing is certain—we won’t starve.”
Lily opened the second basket and found several vials of what looked like oil. Then there were pieces of a sponge and. . .was that a length of black silk? “What on earth is this for?”
Matthew eyed the contents of the basket and grimaced. “No one could accuse Cousin Amelia of subtlety.”
Lily had no idea what he was talking about. “I don’t understand. Why would she put this silk in here? Is it meant for a napkin? And what is this bit of a sponge for?”
Matthew’s shoulders were shaking, and he took the fabric from her. “She’s only matchmaking, Lily. It’s nothing to worry about. Don’t pay it any heed.”
But she was still curious about it. She returned to stand by the fire while Matthew unwrapped the rest of the food. A part of her knew they ought to call out for help or, at the very least, attempt an escape.
And yet, she was not entirely displeased by having a few hours alone with Matthew. It would give her the opportunity to hear what he had endured in India. She felt as if it might exorcise his demons, allowing him to share his burden. If a scandal ensued, so be it. Only a few knew she was here, and his cousin Amelia was part of the matchmaking.
Lily removed her bonnet and set it aside. Her hair was wet and hanging against her shoulders, so she removed several of the pins.
Matthew was still holding the black silk, and he approached her slowly until they both stood by the fire. “Do you want to leave, Lily? I could break the door down, if need be.”
She felt a tremor slide over her, and her skin prickled with gooseflesh. “Not yet.” Her voice came out in a whisper, and she let her hands fall to her sides. “Unless you want to.”
“Not yet,” he repeated. He leaned in and rested his forehead against hers. “I know you have not yet given me an answer to my proposal. But if we stay here, it will cause talk.”
“I know it.” She drew her hand to rest upon his cheek. “But I want you to tell me about India. I need to hear it before I can marry you.”
“You may not want to marry me after you hear it,” he admitted.
“It haunts you still. And perhaps it will ease your burden if you share it.” She traced her fingertips over his rough cheeks, feeling the stubble of a growing beard. His brown eyes were fixed upon hers, and in them, she saw hunger and desire. The intensity of his gaze speared through her, and he drew his arms around her.
“Do you know why Cousin Amelia locked us inside this room?” he murmured. His warm hands slid down her spine, before he cupped her hips and drew them close. She could feel the hard ridge of his arousal, and her breasts peaked beneath her chemise and corset.
“I—I think so. She wanted to force us into marriage.”
“Through seduction,” he clarified. “That second basket is filled with everything necessary for lovemaking.”
Her mouth formed an O, and she blinked a moment. “Well. That wasn’t at all what I was expecting.”
He stole a kiss, his mouth nipping at hers. A hundred questions filled her mind, but she silenced them. His kiss evoked such strong memories of the past, of the man he had once been. When his tongue slid against her lips, she welcomed it, feeling the echo of desire between her thighs.
“There are extra clothes in the other basket,” he told her.
The thought was tempting, but she was still uncertain about what would happen between them. “Pour some more brandy,” she told him. “And then start at the beginning. I want to know what happened when you were in India.” She had a feeling she would need spirits to fortify her courage.
Matthew stepped back and returned to the table. He poured two glasses of brandy, handing one to her. “You should sit down, Lily.”
She chose a chair beside the fire and gestured for him to join her. He did, pulling his chair so close to hers that their knees touched. Lily took a sip of the brandy by way of a distraction. The second glass went down easier, and it warmed her throat.
Matthew set his glass on the table but did not touch it. In the firelight, she could see the troubled lines of his face and the scar across one cheek.
“James was angry with your father,” he said quietly. “George wanted him to take more responsibility, to bury himself in the affairs of the estates. Your brother was young and wanted to live his life before being shackled to the earldom.”
“He didn’t know our father was sick,” Lily said. “Or he wasn’t willing to acknowledge it.”
“I think he suspected. . .but he wanted to deny it. Both because he didn’t want the earldom, and he didn’t want your father to die.”
“He just told us he was leaving,” Lily said. “With hardly any warning at all. All he said was that he wanted to expand our interests in India.”
“James wanted to prove his worth,” Matthew continued. “He told me he wanted to rebuild the family’s wealth by reaching beyond England.”
“But you don’t really believe that,” Lily said, resting her hands on her knees. “I think he was running away.” Her brother had no reason to pursue wealth, but she’d sensed that he was restless and eager to cast off the chains of the earldom. And he hadn’t wanted to face his father’s death.
“I agree. And that’s part of the reason why I followed him. I suspected if he left England alone, he would never return.”
She reached for Matthew’s hand, and his fingers closed around hers. “I am grateful you did.”
“He was like a younger brother to me,” Matthew admitted. “I thought I could watch over him and bring him back to your family.”
His expression was pensive, and she wondered if he was ready to talk about what he had endured. “Will you tell me more about what happened when you arrived in India?”
Matthew kept her hand in his, but his gaze fixed upon the wall. She didn’t press him, but simply held his hand and let him say anything at all. He took a breath and finally began. “I knew the East India Company was trading cotton and spices. There were profits in that. But one of the sailors was talking of rubies and sapphires. He convinced James to go out on his own in search of the gemstones, even though I warned him not to trust the man.”
He shook his head. “The man was always shadowing us. I should have listened to my instincts. I still believe someone hired him to harm us, though I can’t prove it.”
Matthew’s face turned somber, and his face tightened. “The sailor led us all the way toward the northern border of India. He wanted to separate us from the others.”
Lily reached out to take his other hand, for Matthew’s voice had grown quiet. “Was that how you were captured?”
He nodded. “I thought at first that the sailor meant to ransom us or use us as leverage against the English soldiers in India. But he sold us to a group of rebels.”
Deep inside, she felt the chill of his words. A part of her didn’t want to hear any more, but he needed to let go of the memories and share his burden.
“Go on,” Lily murmured.
Matthew released her hands and stood, as if he could no longer be still. He drank the entire glass of brandy before he crossed the room and went to stand by the window. The drapes were closed, and his form cast a shadow over them.
“They took James first. I don’t know what they did to him or what they said. But all I could think of was finding a way to get us out.”
He moved toward the table, poured himself a second glass, and broke off a bit of cheese. “They kept me separated from James, and I had no water for two days. I thought I was going to die in chains. They had dug out part of a sand dune, and we were kept in the darkness. It felt as if we were buried alive.
“When they brought James back, they took me in his place. We were not allowed to speak to one another. But I don’t think he could have spoken if he’d wanted to. I don’t know what was done to him, and I never asked.”
He ate the cheese and rested his palms upon the table, looking down. “Those weeks were the worst I’ve ever endured.”
Lily drank her own glass of brandy, steeling herself for the worst. She wanted to go to him, to wrap her arms around his waist and hear the truth. But she forced herself to stay back, to let him continue.
“The sailor who led us into captivity brought a woman to talk to me. She was beautiful and soft-spoken, but I could understand her English perfectly. Her name was Nisha Amat, and she seemed to know who I was.” He paused. “She knew my title, and she spoke of my family members. When I asked her how she knew them, she said James had told her.”
He shrugged. “It’s possible he did. But she kept speaking of her husband and child, and she claimed they were taken by the British army. There was such. . .hatred in her voice. I knew she was lying, for what army would have any use for a child?
“I told her that, but it only enraged her.” He lifted his gaze to Lily’s. “She had a kind of madness in her that I’d never seen before. It was as if all her anger transformed into the purest evil. They deprived us of food and water, and offered it if we would betray one another. As the days passed into weeks, I started to lose my grasp on what was real and what was not. I tried to think of you and our life in England, but as they broke my bones and burned my skin, I realized I was never going to leave India alive. Nisha had no interest in answers—only torture.”
He turned away and said, “She wanted both of us dead, but only after we suffered as much as she had. I don’t know who took her husband and child, but she blamed the British.”
“It’s over now,” Lily whispered. “She’s gone, and you will never see her again.”
He faced her, and his expression had a hard cast to it. “That’s not the worst of it, Lily.” He paused a moment and said, “One night, she brought in a child.”
Lily felt the tears rise to her eyes before they spilled over. The pain and guilt in his voice was agonizing. She didn’t want to hear it, but she knew he needed to release the nightmares that haunted him.
“They blindfolded me, and I heard the little girl crying. Nisha told me they had taken her from a British family. If I would tell her where her own lost child was, she would return this girl to her parents. And if I refused to talk, the child would suffer instead.”
His hands clenched into fists. “My mind was so broken, I couldn’t even make up lies. I could say nothing at all, and they tortured an innocent child. I still hear her screams when I try to sleep at night.” He lowered his head and admitted, “It’s my fault she died.”
Lily stood from the chair and went to stand by him. Matthew’s face was haunted, grim lines of emotional pain carved into his face. She drew her arms around his neck and murmured, “There was nothing you could do.”
“She wasn’t even English, I learned later. They took a child from one of their enemies and used her to torment me.”
She embraced him, resting her cheek against his pounding heart. “It wasn’t your fault, Matthew.”
“I still blame myself. Though I know Nisha was truly a madwoman, I wish I could have saved that girl.”
Lily understood his pain, but there were no words that could change what happened. Instead, she held him close and let him take comfort in her arms. “How did you finally escape her?”
“James got out and brought back help to save me.” His mouth twisted in a wry smile. “It’s ironic, really. I left England because I wanted to protect him and bring him home to you. But in the end, he had to free me from captivity.”
Lily traced the lines of his face, past the scar, framing his cheeks with her hands. “But you are both home now. And I am glad of it.” She raised up on tiptoes to kiss him softly. Though she did not know if revealing the past would help him, she could only hope that sharing the burden would do him good. It would take time to overcome the harsh memories of India—but she loved him still.
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
He drew back to look at her. “You were right, Lily. It did help to talk about it. And despite all that has happened, I hope you don’t think less of me.”
She shook her head slowly. “I understand you better, Matthew. And it doesn’t change the way I feel about you. If anything, I admire your courage. You survived at the hands of a murderer.”
“I don’t think I can ever forget what happened,” he murmured. “Those memories will remain with me for the rest of my life.”
“But I will be with you,” she whispered. “And we will face them down together.” The words were a promise she believed in. Her pulse pounded, but she wanted Matthew to know that her heart still belonged to him.
The library was dark, except for the fire in the hearth. His eyes were filled with desire and a hunger only she could sate. “I want that more than anything, Lily.” He kissed her wrist and ventured, “If you will have me.”
Both of them had changed over the years, but she wanted to believe she could heal the scars of his past. Her pulse thrummed in her veins, and she reached out to touch his face. He caught her hand, closing his eyes as if drinking in her touch.
And she was utterly lost to this man.
“Help me take off this wet riding habit,” she whispered.
His expression grew heated, but he moved his hands to the buttons lining her back. One by one, he flicked them open. When he had undone five of them, he turned her to face the other way, lowering his mouth to her bared skin. With each button, he traced a path down her back with his lips. Shivers erupted over her flesh, and she understood what she had begun. There was no turning back now.
When her gown hung open, she faced him. Matthew helped her lift it away, leaving her in her corset, chemise, and petticoats. He lowered his mouth to her throat, kissing a path along her neckline.
“Help me,” she whispered, untying her petticoats and turning her back for him to unlace the corset. Her body felt alive with need, and she remembered well what it was to lie beneath him, to take him inside her. It felt like that hurried wedding night, when she had first given herself to him.
No, it had not been a true wedding, but they had spoken vows to one another. And she could not let him leave for India without those promises. In her heart, he had been her husband, and he had sworn to love her.
After she had stepped out of her numerous petticoats, Matthew slid the laces from her corset. She felt herself trembling with anticipation, until at last, she stood in her chemise and pantalettes.
“Your turn,” she whispered, sliding the coat from his shoulders. His face was rigid with desire, and when she unbuttoned his waistcoat, he lowered her chemise to her waist, baring her breasts.
She felt herself flush but made no effort to hide herself from his view. Around her throat, she wore the silver chain with the gold signet ring.
Matthew slid his fingers beneath the chain, before he reached to her nape to unfasten the clasp. He removed the ring from the chain and held it for a moment. She was caught up beneath his spell when he held the ring between his fingers and traced the heavy gold over the curve of her breast. Slowly, he circled her nipple with the ring, and her areola tightened with the pressure of the metal. An ache rose between her legs, echoing the sensation.
Matthew removed his shirt, pulling her closer until her breasts touched his bare chest. Softness against hard lines, her cool skin against his warm flesh. Between her legs, she yearned for this man, needing his touch.
“Do you want to know what the black silk was for?” he asked. “Shall I show you?”
She felt a rush of nerves but nodded. Matthew took her by the hand and led her over to the chaise longue. Then he removed the rest of her clothing until she stood naked before him. His gaze lingered over her, as if he were memorizing every curve and line.
“You’re even more beautiful than I remembered.” He guided her to sit upon the chaise longue and picked up the black length of silk. Then he blindfolded her with it. “When you cannot see, the sensations are stronger.”
He was right. Without her vision to guide her, she was only aware of the chaise longue beneath her body and his hands beside her face. Her skin prickled, her breasts straining in the chill of the air. Matthew traced his hands across her shoulders, and without warning, his mouth encircled her nipple.
A sharp spear of pleasure caught her unawares, and she grew wet between her legs. A moan escaped her, and she reached for Matthew, clutching his hair as he feasted upon one nipple, then the other. The scalding sensation of his tongue caressing her, coupled with the gentle suction, made her go breathless with desire.
“I remember this.” She shuddered as a sudden arc of pleasure washed over her. “It feels so good.”
He continued to suckle at her, and she cried out when his hand moved between her legs. She could see nothing, and the exquisite torment of his fingers touching her was deeply arousing. “You’re like silk here,” he said, brushing his thumb over a sensitive place. Then he slid one of his fingers into her wetness and sucked hard against her breast. She nearly came off the chaise longue, as a sudden bolt of ecstasy rippled through her. He continued his wicked torment, sliding his fingers in and out as he kissed one breast, then the other.
“Take off your trousers,” she pleaded. “I want to feel your body upon mine.”
“Soon,” he promised. “We were so rushed on our first night together. I want to savor you right now.”
Lily felt as if liquid heat were pulsing through her veins, her body arching involuntarily. His hands moved beneath her bottom, and he lifted her hips. For a moment, she could not tell what was happening. His hands remained beneath her, but she did not know what he would do next.
Then she felt the warmth of his breath between her legs. His cheeks abraded her thighs, and her mind went wild at the thought of what he would do.
“Do you want me, Lily?” he murmured. The gentle vibration of his voice was nearly her undoing.
“More than anything. Touch me, Matthew. Kiss me. Anything.”
He seemed to guess what she wanted, and he lowered his mouth to kiss her intimately. She gasped, her fingers digging into the chaise longue, and sensations roared through her. She quaked as he worked the nodule above her entrance, his tongue exerting a gentle pressure. Deep inside, her body rose to his call, her body straining for the release she wanted.
“Please don’t stop,” she begged, when he started to kiss her inner thigh. He didn’t listen, but kissed the other thigh, drawing his tongue away from what she wanted. She was trembling hard, seeking the rush that she had known before.
And when he took her again, suckling between her legs, she felt a shimmering pressure building higher and higher, echoing throughout her body as the release took her hard. She was shaking at the force of it, helpless to do anything but ride out the storm.
Matthew kissed her lower stomach, then removed her blindfold. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust, but she stared into his brown eyes, treasuring this man.
“Take me,” she said. “I want your body inside mine.”
He removed his trousers and underclothing, moving atop her, though he was careful not to put his full weight on her. He raised her right leg to wrap around him, and poised his shaft at her entrance. “Are you certain, Lily?”
In answer, she moved her hands to his hips and pulled him within her. He slid easily, though it was tight after being without him for so long. There was no pain, only a slight stretching that felt as if he were coming home.
His face held wonder, as he sheathed himself. It was gentle at first, but her body welcomed his slow thrusts. He slid easily, and as he sank into her depths, she felt another pleasure building.
She guided his mouth back to her breasts, and she reveled in the feeling of his tongue caressing her nipple while he sank and withdrew. The chaise longue was narrow, and she closed her legs, crossing her ankles when he was embedded deep.
He hissed, his face taut. “God, Lily, I can feel your tightness. Don’t move.”
She loved pleasuring him in this way, and as she squeezed his length, his breathing grew harsher. “I need to go faster, Lily.”
He gripped her hips, then pulled her to the edge of the chaise longue. He was half kneeling, but he managed to thrust deeply, sending a savage thrill of pleasure deep within her center. She was quivering now, meeting his hips with her own as he penetrated and withdrew.
She hadn’t known it was possible to feel such mindless lust, but she gripped him with her legs, as he drove inside her.
Without really knowing why, she touched her own breasts, stroking the nipples, and it elevated her sensations, until she was keening for this man.
Matthew continued to thrust until she broke free of all else and shattered against him. She could hardly think or speak as her body erupted with a rush of tremors and her body milked his hard length.
He ground himself within her until she heard him groan, and his body released, his strokes penetrating in rhythm until he collapsed atop her.
Their skin was slick with sweat, and she could not tell where her body began and his left off. She hardly cared at all, but it felt as if the man she loved had finally returned to her. Emotion welled up so deeply, she struggled not to cry.
But he saw her tears anyway and wiped them with his thumbs. “I’m so sorry, Lily. I lost myself.”
He started to pull away, but she refused to let him go. Her voice cracked in a sob, and she admitted, “I’m not crying because you hurt me. I’m crying because I missed you so badly. I love you, Matthew. Don’t ever leave me again.” She traced the lines of his back, feeling the scars there, and then moved until his body was fully embedded within hers.
“I won’t,” he swore. For long moments, they lay together, their heartbeats returning to a slower pace. “Am I getting heavy?”
Small aftershocks caused her body to arch against him, but she welcomed the pleasurable sensations. “I love feeling your body upon mine.” She kissed him softly and added, “Thank you for telling me about what happened to you.”
He framed her face and looked into her eyes. “I am not the same man after what happened in India. It changed me, Lily.”
“You survived,” she said softly. “And it’s the only thing that matters.”
“Will you marry me, Lily?” he asked. “I need you by my side.” He slid his hands down to her shoulders and then to her waist.
She smiled and kissed him. “I do want to marry you. More than anything else.”