Page 73 of In Want of a Wife
Lily spun from gazing out the window, first meeting Rafe’s gaze. “Yes, that is all. Thank you.”
The door shut behind them, leaving them alone finally. He crossed the room, held face in his hands, and kissed her slow and soft.
“Do you wish for me to go while you bathe?”
She shook her head, turning away. “Can you help me out of this?”
Her skin was covered in gooseflesh. He unbuttoned her dress and bent down, kissing her shoulder with a soft press of his lips. Christ, he wanted her.
Not small, stolen touches. Not hidden away. Rafe craved Lily and wouldn’t be satisfied with one of anything. He needed more. He wanted her today, tomorrow, and until he sucked in his last breath on this earth.
But how did he even begin to tell her? Especially when she was all but promised to his brother?
She deserved more and far better than Rafe could provide. But that didn’t stop the need, nonetheless.
His hands trembled as he undid her stays, his heart drumming in his ears. Layer by layer, he helped her free herself from her cold, wet clothes. She smelled of summer and rain, and still the biting edge of cinnamon filled his lungs as he sipped at the beautiful pale skin of her throat. He had sailed the world, and he had served his lust enough, but this with Lily was different. It was hunger that would never be satisfied. It was possession. It burned in his blood.
Lily grabbed his hand and placed it on her bare breast. “Rafe.”
She spun in his arms, pressing that lovely arse of hers against hiships and snaking her hand up through his hair. Lily curled her fingers and tugged, and he knew then that they were each other’s undoing.
There would never be a semblance of what life was like before. It was one slow collision from the moment he scanned her letter. Tonight was always going to happen.
He spun her around and claimed her mouth, certain that if they skip saying what they felt, it would be easier, certainly less complicated. That was a worry for another day, when the rain cleared and the roads were better.
“In the tub. Let’s warm up.” He lifted her chemise, revealing the whole of her body. He was struck. She was perfect. A goddess beckoning him on. Certainly, someone who deserved to be adored and loved upon and worshiped for everything she is.
HisLily.
Her brown eyes widened, a tiny slip of fear staring back at him, calling forward the same swelling in his chest. But he wouldn’t allow it. This could be a mistake, but it would be one they would make together. He lifted her and placed her in the tub, and she refused to remove her arms from behind his neck.
“Don’t think you are escaping. You’re joining me, Mr. Davies.”
Her voice licked over his skin, sending a shiver down his spine. A siren’s call, though he was fairly certain he had passed the point of safety. Danger and wreckage only lay ahead, still he pressed on.
“Very well.”
He undressed, aware of her eyes on him just as he had been that first time he spotted her in Stonehurst Park, staring down at him with such wild curiosity. With a steadying breath, he turned and gripped the side of the tub, climbing in and sinking into the blissfully warm water.
Lily slipped over his body, resting in his lap and throwing her arms around his neck. “I think you should kiss me now. No sense in wasting a perfectly warm bath.”
“That would be a pity.”
“I’m very economically minded.”
He laughed, closing his eyes to fight off the moan climbing his throat as she wiggled against his cock. “Are you?”
“I am very many things, Rafe.”
“That’s what I lo—” He stopped, panic filling his chest. He ran his hands up the small of her back, then skated them up the curves of her shoulder blades, drawing her in for a kiss. Not a slow kiss, certainly not gentle, either. It was urgent.
Christ, he needed her.
When they finally broke for air, and his cock was so hard he thought he might release right then, he whispered against her ear, “You are a great many things, Lily. All of them lovely.”
Lily wasdizzy with need when Rafe helped her from the bath some time later. Her skin was warm and smelled of lemons thanks to the bath oil, and the summer rain still pelted against the window.
They had discovered some slip of the day where time no longer existed, nor rules of the heart apparently either.
