29
Conner locked the front door, the bolt loud in the silent house. Sighing, he leaned against the door and tugged off his gloves, tossing them with his hat onto a side table. God, he was tired, but also quietly ebullient. His plans were coming together, and while he was anxious about the outcome, if he could pull it off, it would all be worthwhile.
The clock chimed midnight. Thea will be asleep now.
He sighed and walked toward the stairs. He’d almost reached them when a sound from the sitting room made him turn.
He went to the door, and walked inside. Curled in a chair, her cheek on a red silk pillow, Thea slept. He crossed to stand beside her, noting how young she appeared, her hand trustingly open on the arm of the chair, her thick lashes resting on the crescent of her cheeks, her lips parted.
God, but he loved her mouth. And her hair, which curled so beguilingly against her creamy skin. And her— Damn, I love everything about her.
He brushed a curl from her cheek, and she frowned, independent even in her sleep.
Smiling, he slid an arm under her knees and another behind her back, and lifted her, one of her slippers dropping to the rug.
Her eyes fluttered opened and she gasped, slipping an arm around his neck. “Conner?”
“You fell asleep in the sitting room, so I’m putting you to bed.” He carried her from the room. “You lost your slipper, by the way.”
“I know. My toes feel the cold.” She rested her cheek against his shoulder and closed her eyes.
“They’ll be warmer in your bed.” They’d be even warmer in mine. He tamped the thought down and carried her up the stairs. “You’re spending too much time watching over our patient.”
“Lance has spent more time in the sickroom than I. And Jane is much improved. She joined us for dinner tonight.”
He took the steps slowly; it was heaven holding her in his arms. “I’m glad she’s doing well.”
“Me, too.” Thea placed her hand on his cheek.
He stopped and looked down at her. Her gaze locked with his, and desire flickered in the chocolate depths. Conner recognized it because he suffered from the same condition. Even now, his groin ached with the need to feel her, to join her and— I cannot think like that.
He reached her bedchamber and pushed open the door. The room was dark except for the light from the flickering fire. He’d taken only one step inside when she murmured, “Close the door.”
He stopped and looked down at her. “Thea . . . are you sure?”
She met his gaze steadily. “Positive.”
His heart leapt eagerly, and he closed the door with his hip. The latch slid into place with a click, and he carried her to her bed.
Unwilling to release her, he stood holding her. She was so warm in his arms, her curves soft and beckoning, while her silken hair smelled of lily and rose. He tightened his hold. “I dinnae wish to let you go.”
“Then don’t.” She rubbed her cheek against his shoulder, “At least not tonight.”
His heart thrummed madly as she slowly slid her hand from his heart to his neck, and then his chin, her eyes locking with his as she whispered, “We know one another so well. We should see where this”—she slid her fingers over his mouth, sending a throb of desire through him—“passion takes us.”
And then she would be his in every way.
Within seconds, she was on the bed and he beside her as he tugged off her clothes, and she tugged his. With hands that trembled in eagerness, laces were untied, buttons undone, and clothing thrown from the bed like sea spray from a ship’s bow.
Conner had to stop to undo his boots and toss his breeches to the floor. That done, all that remained was Thea’s lacy chemise and stockings. He leaned at her side, resting on his elbow as he appreciated the sight of her naked except for that thin froth of lace that hinted at her dark areolas, and the tempting curl of hair at the juncture of her legs.
“God, but you’re beautiful,” he said hoarsely. He put his hand on her gently rounded stomach, sliding it lower.
She gasped and stiffened.
He smiled. “Easy, sweet.” He leaned closer to whisper in her ear, “I’ve just begun.” Over the silk of her chemise, he cupped her breast, resting his thumb on her nipple.
She arched into his hand with a suddenness that made his heart thunder anew. Knowing that she wanted this, he was free to pleasure her as he would. To show her that they belonged together. To make her admit she was his.
He tugged the tie that held her chemise and slid it from her shoulders, exposing the creamy slopes of her breasts, the dusky pink of her nipples, the tantalizing lines of her stomach as it disappeared behind the cloud of silk. “Take it off. All of it.”
She shimmied from the garment while he watched in appreciation, pausing to roll the silk stockings from first one leg, and then the other, each inch revealing more of her creamy skin. “Och, lass, you’re as delectable as a warm pasty on a frozen night.”
He couldn’t stop devouring her with his eyes. She was so beautiful, so lush and curved. The warm firelight flickered over her skin, turning it gold, reflecting in her brown eyes, and beckoning him onward.
He cupped her breast again, and this time, he bent to capture her nipple between his lips. He twirled and nipped at the tender bud, making Thea gasp and writhe with desire. He moved to the other breast, pausing to blow gently on her damp nipple. The bud tightened yet more, and she grasped his shoulder as she moaned softly.
God, he loved her moans, the way they started in her throat and slipped over her damp lips, so that he could capture them with his own. He wanted to hear more, feel more. He trailed his fingers over her stomach, trailing his fingertips across her warm skin and down, down until he found the top of her curls. He splayed his hand and slowly drew it through her lush patch, pausing only when he reached her womanhood.
He captured her mouth as he drew his hand over her mound. Her lips parted and she threw her arms about him, pressing against him, her legs spreading, drawing him forward.
He fought the urge to claim her then and there. “You drive me wild, searc.”
Theodora clutched at Conner, pressing against him in abandon. God, he knew every spot to touch and how to stir her in ways she couldn’t even imagine. He made her entire body tingle with nothing more than a look.
Conner shifted slightly, his mouth close to her ear. “I want you so badly it hurts.”
She lifted her leg over his hip, pulling him closer, her thighs slick from her excitement, her breath ragged and harsh.
The head of his manhood rested against her, and she quivered. Without thought, she planted her heel on the mattress and lifted herself, opening to him.
He slipped in, then drew a breath, closing his eyes as if in pain.
And there was pain—swift and fleeting, and then she was filled, her thoughts a jumble of mad pleasure.
“Searc, what you do,” he gasped against her neck, kissing and caressing as he slid his hands to her bottom and lifted her to him.
She threw back her head and gasped loudly as he began to move, thrusting into her, the movement sending waves of wildness up and down her, her skin prickled with a million tremors.
Never had she felt anything as delicious as this. She met him thrust for thrust, pulling him closer, grasping frantically at his muscled shoulders, his broad back, twining her fingers in his thick hair. A low hum of wanton excitement began to grow, and the ache between her legs was lost in a swelling tide. She moved faster and he matched her, repeating her name as he took her, thrusting harder and faster. “Mine,” he breathed as he rocked his hips to hers. “All. Mine.”
She clasped her legs about his waist and opened wider to him, breathless and wild with desire. With a suddenness that shocked her, a wave of passion so furious that it stole her breath and raced through her, making her cry out as she arched against him. “Conner!”
He pressed into her as she writhed beneath him, her passion stoking his. As she gave a final gasp he roared her name, pulling free just as he spent his seed.
Breathing hard, Conner slid his hand to hers, tangling his fingers with hers. Their bodies damp, they clung to each other, lost in the moment.
Finally, Conner breathed out her name in a long sigh and then turned on his side and tucked her against him. “That was unforgettable, lass. Should I live to be two hundred, I’ll remember this moment.”
She would, too. She snuggled against him, rubbing her cheek against his chest, his hair crisp against her skin. When she left tomorrow, at least she’d have this to take with her.
Her throat tightened and she closed her eyes, savoring his arms about her, fighting the loneliness the thought of leaving him caused. She burrowed against him and he held her close, neither speaking as their breathing slowed.
Soon, the only sound was the crackle of the fire and Conner’s deep breathing as he fell asleep holding her close, while she stared into the flames, dreading the coming morning.