Secrets of Sin (23 page)

She grabbed the doorknob, although more for physical support than to open the door. Her knees had turned to wobbly pudding. The weight of tears filled her eyes. Closing them, she leaned her forehead against the cool wood of the door.

She had to be sensible, had to be resolute in spite of that deep sadness that filled her now. It felt like she was breaking apart, shattering into so many pieces she’d probably never be able to put them back together again.

“I don’t know what to say.”

A cold shudder ran down her spine. What if she’d just made a complete fool of herself?

It didn’t matter anymore. She stood by her decision.

“I believe ‘until we meet again’ is customary under the circumstances.” Emiline swallowed the heartfelt sob that constricted her throat. “You’re free, Reinier. Free to go wherever you want. Just think of me every once in a while.”

His hand wrapped around her upper arm and urged her to release the doorknob and turn to him, but she kept her eyes down, much too embarrassed to let him see the well of tears in them.

“You understand, you say?”

She nodded once, certain that if she spoke now, she’d completely break down.

“I’m sorry, but you don’t.”

Astonished at the haughty tone in his words, Emiline looked up. “What?”

Seeing that austere frown on his face, she gasped, fearing he was about to deliver the final blow to her wounded and bleeding heart.

But then the corners of his eyes crinkled with the minuscule smile on his lips, and her heart missed a beat.

“If you really understood, Emiline, you’d realize that all I ever needed was to know that you loved me.”

“But I do!” she spluttered.

“Yes, I know that—now.” His other arm wrapped around her other upper arm and he lowered his head with a sigh.

“Emiline, can’t you see?”

“See what?” She didn’t know what to make of this. Her mind was numb. She curled her clammy hands into fists at her hips to stop them from trembling.

“I want to be a part of you, your life, not just some fine-looking face you can show around. I want to fall asleep with you in my arms. I want to wake up beside you. I don’t want to leave. I want to remain here, by your side.”

Nothing he said made any sense. What was he babbling? “But you are!” Emiline exclaimed, stepping up to him. “You are a part of me. You have my heart, Reinier.”

That disconcerting, level stare on his face softened into a strange, somewhat fatuous smile. “And you have mine,” he said. “Be more careful with it from now on, will you?”

“What?” She didn’t care that bafflement had her voice pitch into a shrieking gasp. This situation was beyond her grasp. Was he saying that—

“I’m nothing without you, Emiline.”

“You’re…?” Like a demented half-wit she was about to parrot what he’d just said. She hadn’t thought it possible, but her heart beat even heavier in her chest.

“Will you let me stay—as your husband?”

Slowly, the torrent of gibberish in her mind abated and his words reached through the fog. “Why, what kind of wife would I be to forbid it? If that is your wish…stay as long as you want.”

Reinier’s whole demeanor seemed touched with a warm glow from within. “I should give you fair warning, though. It could be quite long.”

“Really?” Emiline had difficulties coping with the happiness suddenly blooming and pulsing, threatening to burst out of her. “How long are we talking about? A fortnight? A month?”

Tilting his head, Reinier pursed his truly superb lips and finally suggested, “How about ‘indefinitely’?”

Time suddenly stopped. Emiline felt like she was falling, no, flying, elation carrying her one step closer to heaven.

Taking a step back, she tapped her forefinger against her chin, pretending to consider what he’d just said like they were engaged in bargaining over a barrel of her island’s rum.

“That could mean years. Decades even.” Her tone was deliberately stern.

He searched her face for a moment, then expanded his perusal over her whole body. Emiline felt stirred by that glance, his eyes darkening with that wonderful mixture of playful wickedness and sensual promise. Her gown was too tight in too many places all of a sudden.

“It does not fit your plans?” Reinier walked around her, his heated gaze wandering all over her. “I wonder why. Do you have a prior appointment?”

With a blasé shrug, Emiline asked over her shoulder, “In general or tonight?”

“Both.” She shivered as his whisper tickled her earlobe and sweet curls of gooseflesh were bouncing up and down her back.

“None I can think of. Why?” She brought her lips closer to his. “What do you have in mind?”

“Oh, nothing too strenuous.” He brushed his lips over hers.

“Is that so?” Her words were low and disrupted by gasps of yearning. “How disappointing, Reinier.”

He gave a low chuckle and stood right in front of her again. The fingers of his one hand played along her spine. Her awareness of the soft pressure was so acute it was as if she didn’t wear anything at all. His hand came to rest at the small of her back, pressing her body close until she felt the prominent bulge of his arousal against her belly. A quiver of yearning shot through her body, and velvety moistness settled between her legs.

He brought his free hand up between their bodies, his fingers playing over the low rim of her dress where her stomacher was held in place. He squeezed her breast through the gown’s material; then his fingers sneaked in, teasing the hungry flesh right above her erect nipple. Emiline bit back a moan.

“Well.” His voice was reduced to a croak drenched with desire. “I suppose it will be strenuous, but only for me since I intend to do all the work.”

“Do you now?” Arousal sent her heart into a frantic drum southward.

“Uh-hm,” he nodded, bringing his mouth closer.

Emiline took quick, shallow breaths through her slightly open mouth. “And what—”

His lips sealed hers. Her eyes fluttered closed and she answered him, yielding to the frenzied desire stirring in her; her tongue chasing his, her hands roaming his arms, shoulders, and back.

His kiss was delicious—feverish, yet slow; possessive, yet tender; fervent, yet oh-so-skilled. Her head spun even more than it already had.

Reinier swept her up in his arms, and when she felt her knee softly bump into the door, one hand, trembling and reluctant to let go of him, groped blindly for the doorknob.

His lips never left her. He began to nibble down her neck. She laughed with all the joy and longing that filled her.

U
pstairs in her room, Emiline grasped his frock coat impatiently. She felt reckless and wild, and tore at his garments, her legs wrapped around his waist, her hips instinctually seeking the hardness in his breeches with gyrating movements.

Lips bruised in the kiss that had turned frantic in yearning. She felt him pulling at her stomacher hard; then his fingers got tangled in the laces of her dress, which loosened only after a tiny ripping sound.

“No!”

Despite the devouring fire burning in his eyes, Reinier drew back. “No?”

This was taking too long. She wanted him. Now. Hard. Fast. She wanted to feel him claiming her. “I mean, don’t bother. I need to feel you in me.”

He fumbled at his breeches.

“Now, Reinier.” Another tearing sound. “Now would be—”

She cried out with relief as he filled her and stretched her wide. Lifting her hips even farther off the bed, her muscles contracted to grip him and guide him in.

“As my lady wishes,” Reinier groaned, rolling his hips in a rhythm that was too slow and too steady.

Her skin was tingling and tight, and the soft fabric of her dress was scratchy and intolerable, but she held him cradled both in her arms and her core, moaned when he thrust into her, gasped as he retreated.

She tasted his lips and they tumbled deeper into the kiss. Emiline shuddered at the feel of his body covering hers. Pleasure coursed through her, making her head light and her hands clench, bunching the silk of his frock and the shirt underneath.

She blazed, she melted. She saw the passion in his look, reveled in it, and let him see how deep pleasure ran through her.

The coil in her belly tightened until the pressure became almost unbearable. It twisted closer and closer with each thrust he delivered.

“More.” She moaned, urging him on. “More, Reinier, please.”

He obliged, pumping harder and faster into her. His hands found hers and opened the death grip she had on his shoulders. Fingers entwined, he guided her arms up over her head, pressing her hands into the mattress with the weight of his body as he braced himself on them. Opening his legs, he forced her to spread her legs wider with his thighs. Stretched like this, she felt him slide even deeper.

Long, roughened, and relentless strokes shocked her body and blinded her mind. His hunger steamed through her, and she burned brighter and surged higher. She was heading toward the edge, only remotely aware of his soft, low groans of pleasure echoing her own loud, deep moans.

The coil in her belly finally sprang, sending her pulse hammering to where he was sheathed tight. Tremors washed through her whole body like a thousand silky tongues and a thousand feathery kisses crawling over her.

He quickly brought one hand down and left her. Gasping for breath in the overwhelming bliss she’d just found, she watched him shiver as he climaxed too.

Reinier threw his head back, his eyes wide open. He groaned as release found him, and his mind exploded in the gigantic wave of ecstasy washing over him. Totally spent, he fell down on the soft cushion of her body, his breath coming in long and deep gasps.

He braced himself on one arm only to rid her of most of his weight. His hand came up to wipe a curly chocolate strand off her face and tuck it behind her ear.

The flickering light of the lonesome candle on her dressing table illuminated her ethereal beauty. She was so stunning, especially now in the aftermath, that his heart leaped once. He leaned closer, brushing his lips against hers. His tongue flicked over their fullness to taste her once again. The image of strawberries flashed in his mind for a moment.

The soft caress had her shiver under him. Her brilliant turquoise eyes shone for him only. Everything around him ceased to exist. What was important was to touch her, to feel her, to drink in her sweet taste, to take in her delicious fragrance in the aftermath when musk had her natural scent become deeper and richer.

Reinier smiled softly at the stillness in him. When had it happened? That absolute peacefulness that filled him in her arms only. Had it been there from the start?

Blockhead. How had he managed to overlook it? How had he been able to breathe without it all the time?

Lying on his back, he wrapped his arm around her, dragging her to him. His hands wandered up and down her back to press her against him. He reveled in the feel of her, soft and oh-so-sweet. Her body was where it belonged, close to his, wrapped around him, halfway covering him.

“I swear…if you tear another one of my gowns, I will kick you out.”

Her words were slurred. Yes, he had done that. He had made her speech blurry, and he had torn her dress in his haste to bury himself in her and claim her.

His woman. His wife.

At her muffled giggle, pride pulsed in his chest and made his head light. “It will be my pleasure to employ a dozen modistes to have a whole new wardrobe made for you for the sole purpose of ripping those dresses apart while you wear them.” His fingers took hold of the delicate back of her neck, his thumb caressing her cheek. “Until then, I promise to behave.”

“Behave?” Emiline’s eyes widened. “Reinier, we both know you’ve never been good at that.”

He burst into laughter. “Very well, then. I promise to peel you out of those garments before I ravish you until your new wardrobe is ready.”

His fingers started to fiddle with the laces of her gown, loosening them and brushing the garment down her shoulder so that he could reach the laced shift underneath.

“Stop that.” Emiline playfully slapped his hands away. “You’ll ruin it completely.”

She shoved him back, swung her leg over his hip, and straddled him. “Let me do that.”

Her voice was low and alluring. She straightened on his thighs, her hands reaching up to hook her fingers into the rim of her dress. She dragged it down along with the chemise, exposing her immaculate upper body to him inch after agonizingly slow inch.

His little seductress, so wonderful in her teasing.

Desire swamped him, making his head spin, his senses reel. He thought he might go out of his mind. Her dark nipples were hard and erect. Reinier licked his lips.

Her tapered hands moved farther down. He was under her spell. Mesmerized, he only watched as she bunched the skirts of her dress in her hands and dragged them up, exposing her thighs. But his little vixen stopped right before Reinier could get a glimpse of her mons.

In response, his cock hardened again, so much so he had to hold his breath not to whimper. He yearned to feel her hot moistness clamp around him like a creamy, tight fist that milked every last drop from him. The need to be in her again, that mindless craze she induced, undid him.

Reinier fumbled at his shirt, but his hands were too shaky to take care. He ripped the collar open and pulled the shirt over his head, throwing it to the floor. Hands grabbing her upper arms, he threw her off his thighs to lay her down on the bed, ignoring her surprised gasp and mirthful laugh that followed. He got up to shed his breeches and stockings before he bent down again. His hands pulled impatiently at her dress, and his teeth aided him in his effort to undress her completely.

Lifting her up in his arms, Reinier carried her to the head of the bed and laid her down. She lay naked and sprawled on the coverlet, rolling like a cat lazing in the sun with her arms stretched over her head and her thighs rubbing against each other.

Heat raged through his bloodstream. Longing, sexual and possessive, pulsed in his body. Reinier didn’t swallow the purring growl. He crawled onto the bed, like a predator stalking its prey. If she kept up that teasing, he’d make her pay—dearly. And he knew she’d love every moment of it.

His heel bumped against the bedside table catching the corner of the book that had been lying on it and sending it flying. Emiline ducked out of the way, but Reinier grabbed hold of it before it hit the pillow. He turned it in his hands, wondering what reading she enjoyed before falling asleep.

When he saw the title, his eyes widened. Poems by John Donne. Tilting the book to the side, Reinier gazed into her wide-open, loving eyes and the idea struck him like lightning. He settled in next to her and immediately began looking through the pages. When he found his favorite elegy, the fingertips of his left hand caressed the page in an intimate gesture; then he leaned back against the head of the bed and silently started to read.

He wasn’t aware that Emiline had been studying him until she spoke. “Would you read to me?”

Biting his lower lip, Reinier nodded and began to read aloud. “‘Come, Madam, come, all rest my powers defy,/Until I labour, I in labour lie./The foe oft-times, having the foe in sight,/Is tired with standing though they never fight.’”

Emiline blinked, her lips moving into an O of surprise. Closing the book and laying it aside, Reinier bent down to kiss her, his lips sliding against hers before his tongue flicked over them. She opened them with a willing sigh and he deepened the kiss, his body pressing against hers.

Reinier ran his hand into that wonderful mass of hair, massaging her scalp. “‘Off with that girdle, like heaven’s zone glistering, /But a far fairer world encompassing./Unpin that spangled breastplate which you wear,/That th’ eyes of busy fools may be stopped there.’” Rolling his hips, his cock cradled against her soft belly, his tongue slipped between her lips, tasting her, swirling around hers, tempting and teasing her.

“‘Unlace yourself, for that harmonious chime/Tells me from you, that now ’tis bed time.’” Nuzzling her chin, his hand left her hair and wandered down, beneath the cover, to cup her backside and press it against his rigid cock. She lifted her leg with a blissful sigh, wrapping it around his waist.

“‘Off with that happy busk, which I envy,/That still can be, and still can stand so nigh.’” Reinier rained tiny kisses down her neck and up her shoulder, his hand caressing the silken skin of her backside.

Drawing back, Reinier pursed his lips, his exploring fingers frozen in place down the crevice of her cheeks. “I’d say we’ve done all that already. I could have skipped that part entirely.”

Emiline blinked, bewildered.

“To save time.”

Her exasperated sigh was not very convincing. “When have you become so impatient?”

Reinier playfully bit her chin. “It’s a new trait I acquired.” His fingers down her crevice wandered a bit lower, so they played at her entrance without ever penetrating. “You do not approve of it?”

Her whole body arched into his touch, and a low, quivering moan escaped her lips. “No—o. I mean, yes. Oh!” She let out a frustrated huff then, her face puckering in a funny way. “Don’t force me to think now. Just—”

He let the tip of his middle finger enter. She moaned and her hips bucked.

“Go on?” Reinier helped out.

At Emiline’s enthusiastic nod, he let his hand travel over her hip to the jet-black curls between her legs, his fingers curling into her pubic hair. “‘Off with your wiry coronet and show/The hairy diadem which on you doth grow.’”

Her eyes fluttered closed and she rolled her hips into his touch, tempting his fingers to travel farther down. When Reinier didn’t, she scowled a little.

“I believe you forgot a line or two.”

Reinier gave a noncommittal shrug. “I’m shortening it a little, adapting so it fits.”

His hand straightened and his fingers played over her erect, sensitive peak in the softest of touches. Emiline shuddered in his arms, her eyelids at half-mast. Her trembling echoed through him, increasing the tingling anticipation that vibrated through every fiber of his body.

“I see.” A breathy laugh swung in her words. “Well, then. I’m sorry I interrupted you.”

“‘Thou angel bring’st with thee/A heaven like Mahomet’s paradise; and though/Ill spirits walk in white, we easily know/By this these angels from an evil sprite./Those set our hairs, but these our flesh upright.’”

Emiline caught her breath and she pressed her lips together so tight they were nothing more but a fine, pale line. Her cheeks puffed and she blinked, her body shaking with the giggle she obviously tried to swallow.

“What amuses you?”

The whole bed shook with the force of her mirth. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be fanciful, but…”

“But what?”

Emiline took a deep breath. “Knowing you, I can’t imagine there’s anything that would not…uhm…‘set your flesh upright.’”

Reinier hummed, nodding in thought. “I agree it has never happened before. Still, there’s a first time for everything, although I can’t imagine it would happen in your arms.”

That bright, carefree side she’d just let him see disappeared completely and she blushed, her eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. “Oh,” she huffed. “Oh! You! Rascal! Scoundrel, you!” Her small fist hammered against his shoulder with little punches.

Reinier ignored her and slid two fingers deep into her core. Instantly, she stilled, threw her head back, and gasped, her hand falling limply down, her hips gyrating against his hand.

“I’m sorry, but did you say something?”

“Oh, please—” Again Emiline moaned, a little louder this time. “Don’t stop.”

“‘License my roving hands, and let them go/Before, behind, between, above, below,’” he whispered in her ear, pressing a soft kiss on her earlobe. “‘My mine of precious stones, my empery,/How blessed I am in this discovering thee!/To enter in these bonds, is to be free;/Then where my hand is set, my seal shall be.’”

His kisses traveled down the side of her neck until his lips circled her nipple. Her skin was warm and soft. Teeth grazing, his tongue soothed and his lips closed over her to gently suckle one breast, all the while the fingers of his other hand never ceased to pump slowly in and out of her.

He broke away to repeat the teasing game on her other breast, whispering against her skin, “‘Gems which you women use/Are like Atlanta’s balls cast in men’s views,/That when a fool’s eye lighteth on a gem,/His earthly soul may covet theirs, not them.’”

Goose bumps raced over her deliciously dewy skin and Reinier wanted to kiss every one of them. He almost succeeded as his lips wandered farther down her body. When he reached her belly button, his tongue snaked out to tickle it just before he nipped her lower belly. “‘Then since I may know,/As liberally, as to a midwife, show/Thyself: cast all, yea, this white linen hence.’”