Closer To Sin (19 page)

Her throat constricted. He had just given her the world, yet he would take nothing in return if that’s what she chose. But it was no longer a matter of choice; her heart had wrested the decision from her, and her body clamoured for more.

She would not walk away from him until she absolutely had to. And there was no way in hell that she would walk away before she heard her name being torn from his lips at his moment of crisis. Because just one day of being married to Sin, of loving Sin, would be enough to sustain a lifetime of the nothingness Great-Aunt Woolner had planned for her.

Liliane wordlessly returned his kiss and on trembling legs led him to the large canopied bed. She sat on the edge as he kicked off his boots, shed his shirt and peeled open the falls to his trousers. His manhood, engorged and fully erect, sprang forward, a burning reminder of how very masculine he was. He was magnificent. Liliane licked her lips, uncertain of what was expected.

***

Sinclair watched her as she looked at him uncertainly. ‘Touch me, like this.’ He guided her hand until it wrapped around his shaft.

Tentatively, Liliane gripped his turgid length and mimicked the movements he taught her. Her fingers glided along the length of his erection, from his sensitive tip to the base buried in its nest of crisp curls.

Sinclair, his teeth gritted against her tentative exploration, reached down and tightened her grip on him.

‘Harder, you won’t hurt me.’

Liliane firmed her grip and beneath her gaze a pearlescent bead formed at the tip. She touched it, massaging it into the silken skin of his crown. Christ, she’d finish him with her innocent exploration. He stilled her hand, his own trembling from restraint.

‘Next time, sweetheart, I’ll let you play to your heart’s content, but I don’t think I can hold out much longer.’

Liliane tucked her legs up and knelt before him. She reached forward and slid her arms about him; she kissed him hotly and whispered against his mouth. ‘I don’t want you to hold out. I want you to make love to me. Now.’

She leaned into him and rolled her hips against his erection. ‘I want to know what it’s like.’ She kissed him again. ‘What it’s like with you. Just you.’

Sinclair closed his eyes at the surge of emotion that threatened to consume him. She was a breath of light. Her caress cleansed him, ridding him of the weariness that had been with him for so long.

Wordlessly he urged her to the centre of the bed and lowered himself upon her. Against her belly, his arousal pulsed hot and heavy. She was softness and femininity, and he so desperately needed to take some of her goodness into himself, to be cleansed by her.

Careful not to overwhelm her, he gently grasped her hands and raised them above her head. ‘Ah,
mon fleur
,’ he groaned, ‘I don’t think we will have need of a fire in here tonight. You are molten in my hands.’

He dipped his head to her breast and suckled deeply, causing a ragged breath to escape from her throat. He patiently stoked the flames again, moving his attention from one luscious mound to the other.

His hands traced a path along the voluptuous curve of her hip to her thigh and she sighed beneath his touch.

With patience he thought beyond him, Sinclair gently kneed her legs apart, opening her to him. He was rewarded with her whimper as his fingers dexterously traced her most intimate curves. His cock pulsated in anticipation. His mouth continued its erotic feast upon her breasts as ever so slowly he trailed a finger to her opening and slid in. She moaned more deeply than before and shifted restlessly against the tension he was building within her.

He raised his head to look deep into her eyes. ‘That’s right,
mon fleur
, open for me.’

‘Sin, please. Please …’ He knew that she had no concept of what she sought, but he would give her everything she asked, and more. He clenched his jaw as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and traced the broad plane of his back until she reached the steel hard muscles of his flanks.

He fought for control when she trailed her hands around further still, her sigh a whisper of promise as she brushed the hard length of his erection. She would be the death of him. His heart tattooed a bruising rhythm against his chest as she gripped his shaft and deftly traced its outline from tip to base. Fighting to hold himself steady above her, Sinclair inhaled a sharp hiss of air, his forehead beaded in a fine sheen of perspiration. Dragging her hand back up above her head he groaned.

‘
Mon fleur
, I promise to make this good for you.’

She lay beneath him, her body softly illuminated by the light from the setting sun. His breath stilled as he took in the voluptuousness of her curves. Her arms were thrown back above her head, lifting her breasts into prominence. Alabaster skin adorned with deep rose hued nipples that puckered and invited him to taste.

He lifted his gaze to her face and took in the lusciousness of her mouth, slightly parted and swollen from his kisses. His eyes clashed with hers, heavily lidded and glazed with passion, but he couldn’t look away. A sense of foreboding rolled over him, leaving his skin prickly and sensitive to everything around him.

Liliane skimmed her tongue across her bottom lip and reached a hand up towards his face. Before she could touch him, Sinclair took hold of her wrist and lowered her arm back above her head.

‘I don’t think you realise how alluring you are. I want you. Not just to love you, but to know you. I want to explore your body and to know every thought that crosses your mind. You mystify me.’

Reclaiming her hand, she lifted it to brush across his cheek while she leaned up to nuzzle his neck, licking and tasting. Her voice, deep and throaty with passion, reverberated through him.

‘Sin, I want tonight with you. I want to feel you touch me. I want you … inside of me.’

With a groan, he lowered himself between her opened thighs and settled in the welcoming cradle of her hips to position his cock at her entrance.

‘Liliane, sweet wife,’ he ground out, oblivious to the promise of his words.

She was wet and slick and ready for him. Pressing against her tightness, he slowly entered her, and retreated. Again, deeper, and then deeper again. Beneath him Liliane was soft and pliant, flowering for him with each new thrust.

He kissed her, mimicked his movements with his tongue until they were each enveloped in a cloud of sensation. Unable to restrain himself any further, he deepened the kiss and with a final thrust buried himself to her core. Liliane stiffened, her breath shallow and unsteady.

Sinclair murmured comforting words in her ear. ‘Shh, sweetheart. Don’t fight it, relax, it will get better.’

Against his neck he felt her draw a shuddering breath. He forced her to focus on the sensation of his lips upon hers, of his hands on her breasts. Each pull of her nipple between his thumb and his forefinger caused her to sigh in response. Reverently, he slowly repeated the movement, kneading each breast in turn. He stroked the sensitive skin of her midriff down to the softness between her thighs. He was rewarded with a moan as her hips rose to meet his next touch.

Feeling her acceptance of him, he began the slow sumptuous glide that would deliver them both to completion. Leisurely at first, savouring the tight grip of muscles that had eased and been made slick by her desire. He smiled inwardly as she responded to his movements, lifting to meet him as he buried himself deeper. With each thrust he nudged the opening of her womb, the rhythm increasing in intensity. He growled from deep within his throat and their movements became primal.

His focus was honed on the woman in his arms, the way her breathing was interspersed with keening little moans. The room had begun to darken as the sun sank below the horizon. The fire crackled in the grate and the ropes of the bed strained beneath their movement.

Sinclair responded in carnal delight, gripped by possessiveness. He flicked knowing fingers against the sensitive nub buried deep between the petals of her womanhood. As their rhythm increased his touch intensified.

He sensed the moment she lost all rational thought and growled in satisfaction. Her body undulated in complete synchronicity to his. She stiffened, her back bowed, her neck arched and she shattered. Her scream was music to his ears, his name on her lips a benediction to his soul. Then wave after wave of intense pleasure, as her sheath constricted around him, threatened to drown him in its intensity.

With each of her contractions he pushed deeper and deeper, thrusting powerfully. His head was bent to the sensitive hollow where her neck met her shoulders, whispering incoherent words as her climax pulled him towards his own. On a final thrust he groaned her name, long and deeply, and shuddered to completion. And spilt his seed deep within her.

Sometime later Sinclair opened his eyes. The sun had long set and he was still buried within Liliane as she lay asleep in his arms. Gently, he moved to the side, disturbing her in the process. Looking up at him, she smiled tentatively, seemingly uncertain of what to say.

He held her gaze for a long while before he brushed the hair back from her face and planted at trail of gentle kisses across her brow. He didn’t want to examine the events of the past hour. He had known she was virgin, but that knowledge hadn’t played a part in his decision making tonight.

For some inexplicable reason, one that he avoided examining too closely, he had just consummated a marriage that he hadn’t wanted. Where that left him, where it left them, he wasn’t yet prepared to contemplate. But of one thing he was certain: she was his.

***

Liliane sat by the fire and squeezed the water from her hair. Absently she reached for her brush and started the slow process of drying it. Every muscle in her body seemed to have taken a leave of absence, and there were aches and twinges in body parts that had never made their presence known before. Gracious, that man knew how to give pleasure.

But how did she talk to him now without drooling from the mouth and condemning every word to an incoherent ramble? She peeked at Sin from the corner of her eye. He was freshly bathed and sitting languidly on the bed flicking through the book he had bought her earlier in the day. She bit on her lip and swallowed back a sigh. No man had the right to look that damn good.

A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts. Sin got up and opened it to admit one of the maids with the light repast he had ordered. The girl took no time setting the table and as the door quietly snicked shut behind the departing maid, Liliane looked up to find Sin removing the brush from her hand.

‘Come and sit here,’ he urged. ‘I’ll brush your hair for you.’

Liliane seated herself before the mirrored dressing table and closed her eyes as she submitted herself to the luxury of his ministrations. The rhythmic drag of the brush against her scalp was divine. She opened her eyes to see him watching her intently. ‘What?’ she queried.

‘Something’s bothering you. What is it?’

She blinked. Was she really that transparent? ‘I was thinking about the Hussars we saw from the Belfry, De Bois’s men. Do you really think De Bois has left for Paris … and if so, why has he left his men behind? I think they’re waiting for us to slip up … I’m not sure that our impromptu wedding was enough to convince him of our innocence.’

Sin put down the brush and moved to the window, his shoulders tight with tension. She stood and moved to stand behind him, driven by a desire to ease some of his angst. As she passed the dining table, she noticed a sealed envelope on the supper tray.

Liliane picked up the envelope and turned it over in her hand. The linen parchment was heavy, expensive. She handed it to Sin. ‘Do you think this is a message from Monsieur Lyon?’

Sin accepted the envelope and tore it open. She watched the furrow between his brows deepen as he slowly deciphered the contents before submitting it to the fire.

‘It appears my meeting last night has paid off. I have an appointment later this evening with Michel Allard. He was Gareth’s contact and I’m hoping he can shed some light on what Gareth may have discovered.’

Liliane felt the acceleration of her heart against her chest. Something didn’t ring true, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. ‘How likely is it that Gareth arranged a meeting that Solange didn’t know about?’

Sin regarded her quizzically. ‘I’ve been wondering that very same, although it wouldn’t have been entirely out of character for him to do so.’

She slowly shook her head. ‘I can’t comment on that. It’s just curious that Solange gave me Michel Allard’s name as the person with whom I was to arrange a meeting. From what I understand, Allard is very highly placed and obtaining access to him is exceptionally difficult. It’s interesting that you were able to secure a meeting at such short notice, and without the usual sponsorship.’

Sin moved back to the window and gazed out into the darkened garden. Liliane’s question hung suspended in the room. Finally, he turned back towards her. ‘What’s your point?’

She took a moment more to gather her thoughts. ‘Well, there seems to be a few facts that require clarification. When you told me about Gareth’s murder, you said Solange wasn’t with him, but why did she insist we meet with Allard?’

He nodded. ‘Continue.’

‘Also, after Gareth was murdered, why didn’t Allard contact Solange?’ She shook her head. ‘I just can’t work out what the connection between Allard and Solange is—some vital piece of information is missing. Something that should be very obvious to both of us.’

Sin walked over to Liliane, and raised her chin until their eyes met. His own were hooded, betraying the tension behind his penetrating stare. ‘Are you suggesting that you believe your cousin murdered Gareth?’ he coldly questioned.

‘
Good grief.
Why would you even consider that? I’m suggesting Michel Allard killed Gareth.’

Sin stepped back and ran his fingers back through his hair considering the possibilities. ‘Actually, both theories are plausible. Both of them certainly had opportunity, but what was the motive? And, if Allard murdered Gareth, why hasn’t Solange spoken up?’