Page 46 of Pursuing Mr. Mattingly

Sure, they indulged in intercourse regularly, but that didn’t mean she loved him. Hell, it didn’t even mean his infatuation had progressed past that. It certainly bore further thought.

“I merely assumed I hadn’t managed that feat due to you wishing to keep yourself safe, in the event I might prove less than what I’ve promised.” Feeling a theatrical flair, Oliver shrugged out of his jacket and then removed his waistcoat. The items dropped to the top of the trunk. Then he took up the cape and fastened it about his neck. “Regardless, do I have enough of a debonaire attitude to pass as a highwayman?”

When her head came up, she studied him. Finally, she nodded. “You’ll do, but perhaps you need just a bit of help.” After standing, Sophia crossed to his location, took up the red cravat, and wound it about his waist. “Ah, yes. The color is terrific here. Draws the eye to your hips and other interesting… parts of your anatomy.” She met his gaze with blatant need building in her depths that stirred his length. “Pair all of it with the loose-fitting shirt, and you’ll be certain to attract the notice of the ladies at the ball.”

“The only regard I wish for is yours.” And soon, for their time was, as always, limited. His chest tightened with the thought, but the longer he peered at her, the more he knew. He loved this woman with all of his being, and her returning those feelings wouldn’t change his stance. “As long as I have that, I’m a happy man.”

Her chin trembled. So much emotion shadowed her eyes, he couldn’t discern just one. “Come with me.” Once she’d led him to the far wall near the window, she turned about and faced him. “Will you please hold me?”

“Of course.” He pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his nose. “Are you certain you are feeling well?” But he didn’t delay, for any opportunity to hold her in his arms was time well spent. He cradled her against his chest and pressed a kiss to her forehead, just as she adored.

“You have been a place of shelter and security for me since we wed.” She slipped her arms around his shoulders, and when she furrowed her fingers into the short hair at his nape, a shiver of want went down his spine. “And while I appreciate that, I need… I want…” A breath of frustration escaped her. “This is so difficult to speak aloud when I cannot make sense of it in my mind.”

“I know.” Oliver framed her head with his hands, and when she stared up at him with eyes wide and full of both wonder and confusion, he treated her to a string of tender kisses.

“Oh, you are so good for me. You will probably never know what this last week or so has meant,” she whispered seconds before she lifted onto her toes and applied herself to kissing him back.

Then he lost himself to the wonder that was his wife. He moved over her mouth, tasting, memorizing every contour and detail of two petal-soft pieces of flesh. When he eased the tip of his tongue along their seam, she opened for him, invited him in. Her moan as the kiss deepened and their tongues tangled sent the blood rushing through his shaft. The warmth of her called to him like a siren’s song, and he edged a hand along her spine. At the sweet curve of her arse, he squeezed a cheek, brought her closer still to his body enough that he ground his insistent erection into her hip.

“I want you, Sophia.” Now and always, but since he wasn’t given the always, the now would have to suffice. He dragged his lips beneath her jaw, traced the column of her throat—such soft skin—and when he kissed a path around her bodice lined with dainty lace, she arched her back, giving him a clear invitation.

“There is nothing stopping you from acting on that impulse.”

“Such a vixen.” Oliver glided a hand up her back. Quickly, only fumbling twice, he popped the few buttons of her dress from their holes, and when the garment sagged about her breasts, he tugged the bodice down, taking the fabric of her petticoat with it. “Never will I tire of unwrapping you.” Why the deuce had he not done it over the course of his life? It was a mystery, but he still maintained that waiting for the right woman—here—had been more than worth it.

“Being undressed by a man is rather a favorite of mine,” she said, and her voice was decidedly breathless.

“Mmm.” She was perfection. He took her full breasts in his hands, gently squeezed while she shivered, and then with a chuckle, he worried the nipples into tightened peaks with the pads of his thumbs. “I will always remember you like this, with fire in your eyes, a flush on your skin, and that maddening smile on your lips.”

“For an American, you are certainly a rogue.” She lifted a hand, and with her fingers at his nape guided his mouth to one of those pebbled buds. “You make me forget everything the second you touch me, as if you are magic.”

“Perhaps it’s because I love you so damned much.” Oliver didn’t care if she didn’t return his affections or that he’d made such a declaration. He’d said it, and it made him proud. When he shifted attention to the neglected nipple, and a shuddering moan escaped her.

“You are truly the sweetest man.” Sophia pulled on his cravat as tears gathered in her eyes. “But Oliver?”

“Yes?”

“Join with me as if we have all the time in the world.” One of her hands curled into his shirt. “Love me like I won’t expire in the next few months. I want you without inhibition; I need you with abandon.”

“Don’t I always?”

“Yes, and each time, I fall deeper and deeper for you. It frightens me because…”

“Because you don’t want me to mourn; you don’t want to leave knowing you will leave pain behind.”

“Yes.”

“That is life, sweeting. It’s how we know we’re alive. Even if I had never touched you, never joined with you, never kissed you, just merely knowing you would make me sad once you expire.” He brushed his lips over hers. “Because you’re wonderful.”

A tiny cry left her throat then she crushed her lips to his, and so much feeling lay behind the kiss that something strong shivered down his spine. His soul rejoiced from it as it reached out for hers. Sophia didn’t stop kissing him. In fact, she clung to him, apparently sought to devour him, and the raw power of that embrace knocked him for a loop.

With a growl mixed with a laugh of amusement, he walked her backward. Eventually the wall halted further movement.

She stared up at him, nipped the underside of his jaw, her fingers abstractedly plucking at this clothing. “In this moment, I want to live. God, I want that so much.”

“So do I.” Renewed from the attraction that snapped between them, emboldened by the love light in her eyes, he drew up handfuls of her skirting, wadded it at her waist. “You’re certain? If things grow too heated or frantic, you could—”

“—I don’t care. At least I’ll be with you.” Her fingers curled at his nape while she drew her free hand down to manipulate the buttons of his frontfalls. “Send me flying, Oliver. Love me. Love me with the whole of your being so that I can fill you with all that I am.” When his hardened length fell heavily into her palm, she moaned. “I adore the size of you.”

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