The Glass Orchid (14 page)

Del sighed as she shut the heavy front door. She sagged against it, as though she were too weak to stand on her own. The encounter with Blakely left her feeling relieved and with a sense of closure, but it also filled her with a certain nervousness. It was in the open now; she had publically declared her affection for Camden and her intention to marry him. It seemed more real now than when she’d accepted his proposal, for now there was another person who could attest to their engagement.

Del returned to the study, where she poured herself a brandy. The sweet liquor fortified her, filled her with a sense of steady calmness.

There was no turning back now. She had admitted it publically.

She loved Camden and was going to marry him. She smiled then, alone in her study. She did love him, and he loved her, and the thought no longer scared her. She would no longer give in to the fear or uncertainty, she decided. She let her excitement and hopefulness wash over her; for once she didn’t try to tamp it down or push it away. It wasn’t an easy road ahead of them, but she would be walking it with Camden, and that was all that mattered to her.

How strange, she thought, that the prospect of joining herself with another person no longer terrified her. The idea of marrying someone, of tying herself to him and journeying through their lives together, didn’t seem like a sacrifice any longer. Marriage to Camden instead felt like a gift, like she was gaining something far more precious than all the riches in the world. It was startling, really, how with the right man, something that she had spent her whole life avoiding suddenly became the one thing she desperately wanted, the thing she wanted more than anything else.

She let her mind wander. She allowed herself to entertain ideas for their wedding. A simple affair, of course, with the emphasis on their joy rather than the observation of ritual and formality. Her imagination drifted to their shared life together following the wedding. They had talked a bit about where to live, and had decided much of it depended on how placable Camden’s father decided to be regarding their nuptials. If the elder Camden surprised them by even tolerating — they scarcely dared for outright approval — their union, they had decided to remain in London for the next few years. Camden would continue to work for his father until he could establish himself in his own business and eventually seek financial independence. If his father instead proved intractable in his disapproval, they would have to move away sooner, a riskier option to be sure, but one they had deemed necessary. It didn’t matter to Del, however — wherever she was, as long as she was with Camden, she would be home.

Del’s thoughts were interrupted by pounding at the front door. She smiled in anticipation. That would be Camden, she thought, coming to see her. She hadn’t seen him since yesterday, and she missed him terribly.

It
was
Camden standing on her stoop, and the sight of him caused her to giggle like a schoolgirl. She opened her mouth to greet him, but was cut off when he moved to her abruptly, one arm snaking around her waist and pulling her against him. His other hand was in her hair, turning her face up to him, and he kissed her, long and hard and passionately. Del was thankful his strong arms were around her, for her legs were suddenly weak and she would have collapsed in a puddle on the floor without his support.

She had a brief, clear thought that she was behaving in an absolutely ridiculous manner. Then Camden’s tongue swept inside her mouth and the sensations of her body took over, driving every rational idea from her head, and it would be many hours before she could think clearly again.

• • •

Camden propelled Del back into her foyer, kicking the door shut behind him because he couldn’t tear himself away from her for the brief second it would have taken to shut the door properly. He kissed her as he moved forward, his lips crushing hers, his tongue sweeping inside her mouth, his hands grabbing fistfuls of her dress and her hair.

Bloody hell, he loved having her in his arms.

She clung to him and Camden could feel her arousal in the way she trembled against him. She tugged at his coat, pushing it off his shoulders and down his arms until it landed in a crumpled heap on the floor.

“My God, I’ve missed you,” Camden said.

Del smiled. “It’s only been a day since I’ve seen you last.”

“That is far too long.” He kissed her again, hungrily, greedily, like a child trying to eat all of the candy before anyone could stop him.

It was exactly like that, Camden thought. He wanted her constantly, always hungry for the taste her, and no amount of touching or kissing seemed to fill him. Whenever he was with her, he strained to take in as much of her as he could — her scent, her taste, the feel of her next to him. There was so much about her he had yet to discover and he was impatient to know all of it. Their time together always seemed too brief, but Camden suspected he might feel that way no matter how long they were in each other’s company. He didn’t think it would ever dissipate, the excitement and longing and wonder he felt for her.

Camden lifted her in his arms and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He backed her against the wall, sending pictures and a mirror askew, but neither of them noticed. They pawed at each other, clutching and grasping at clothes and flesh and hair.

“We should move upstairs,” Del whispered.

“Yes, we should,” Camden said, but he made no move disentangle from her. He couldn’t let her go.

Camden set her on her feet and began to undress her, his lips never leaving hers. Soon their clothes were piled on the floor by their feet and they stood naked together. The marble floor was cold against his feet, and it was as though that coolness was the only thing keeping them from bursting into flames. Del’s skin was warm everywhere, her nipples taut, and Camden wondered if she would grow so hot she would actually burn him. He would gladly let their passion ignite, would happily let her fire overtake him until he was nothing more than a smoldering pile of ash at her feet.

Camden felt a hunger and neediness for the woman standing before him that would have unnerved him had he still had the presence of mind to reflect on such things. He had lain with a few women, quick and fervent couplings that served to satisfy the needs of their bodies, but he had never known anything like this. Never before had he felt such overwhelming emotions, never had he been so strongly connected to someone. Every time he touched Del it was a revelation, every time his lips brushed hers he was reborn, every time he looked into her face it was as though he were in the presence of the divine. She made him feel simultaneously like the most powerful man in existence and like a weakened boy unable to escape the enthrallment of a siren. How strange to feel the power of a thousand men course through his body but know that should the house start to crumble around them, he lacked the strength to move even the few steps to her door.

He ran his fingers along the heated skin of her arm and felt her tremble at the contact of their bodies. She placed a hand on his chest and smiled when his muscles flexed involuntarily. He couldn’t control the way he reacted to her — her slightest touch awakened in him a desperate wanting; her fingertips brushed his skin and he would shake, burning with the need to be inside her.

He kissed her hard, his tongue pushing into her mouth, possessing her. She grabbed at him, her fingernails raking the skin of his back. He put his hands beneath her bottom, his fingers digging into her flesh, and he lifted her up and once again leaned her against the wall. He pressed into her and she pulled him even closer until his hardness pushed against the wetness between her legs. She gasped at the movement. She was ready for him, as he was for her; his arousal so acute it was almost painful, the friction of his cock against her pussy nearly enough to make him explode right then and there.

“My God, I want you inside me,” she panted.

It took everything Camden had to withhold himself from her. The heat between them, the arousal, the jolt he felt each time they touched — it made him feel like a mindless bundle of exposed nerves. Nerves that fired with the exquisite torture of not being inside her. He desperately wanted to plunge himself into her wetness and soothe their aching need for each other, but he held back. “Not yet,” he said, breathing hard. “I want to enjoy a little more of you.”

He moved away from the wall and dropped to his knees, laying her out on the floor. He ran his hand along her body, gazing upon her like a man laying eyes on something sacred. He found her so very, very beautiful that looking at her made his chest constrict painfully and his breathing become ragged and uneven.

Del tried to pull at him, to roll him on top of her, but he caught her hand in his and, threading his fingers through hers, brought her arm up gently over her head, letting her know he wanted more time to explore her body.

His fingertips ran down the sensitive skin of her arm, across her neck, and over her nipple. She sucked in her breath as it hardened. She arched her back, showing him that she wanted more of his touch at her breast, but he teased her by moving on. He slowly made his way down her belly, along the outside of her thigh. He hadn’t realized how sensitive different areas of her body were — the inside of her arm, the back of her knee, the hollow of her neck — until his fingers reached them and her body responded with pure, tingling desire.

He was desperate to please her and so he took great satisfaction in her reactions. Every jump and shudder, each moan and cry revealed just how successful he was. When he discovered something she liked, he teased her mercilessly — running a finger along her inner thigh but then withdrawing his hand or bending to lick a nipple quickly before moving on to her neck — until she quivered and moaned. She pleaded with him to sate her incredible need, but he refused, reveling in the knowledge that his touch was having such an effect on her.

He grew bolder with each signal of pleasure she gave him. He brought her nipple into his mouth, sucking gently at first, then harder when she responded feverishly to him. One hand was under her shoulders, holding her to him, and the other was exploring her freely. His hands were on her thighs again, but this time he let them continue the upward journey, until he slid a finger between the heated lips of her pussy. Del gasped and arched her back, clawing at him. The barest tip of his finger was inside her, exploring, while his thumb found the engorged nub of her clitoris. She rocked her hips against him and he knew she was desperate for more of him, knew she was searching for release. Realizing what caused her the most pleasure, he slid his finger in deeper, his thumb pressed harder, and licked her nipple faster and nipped at her with his teeth, and finally, just as she cried she could bear no more of it, she exploded in an intense orgasm against his hand.

Camden watched her as the waves of pleasure lessened and her breathing slowed a little, and he felt both smugly satisfied and a bit in awe of the reactions of her body. Her orgasm had driven his arousal to nearly painful heights and his cock was hard against her thigh. She reached out to touch him, barely taking his cock in her hand, and he drew in a sharp breath as he stiffened. He knew it would take hardly anything to bring him to his own release. Groaning, he put his hand on hers, stopping her.

Del pulled at his shoulders until he was on top of her, his hips pressed against hers. She was wet and ready for him, and he plunged his cock into her in one hard thrust. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him closer, arching her back and pushing her hips forward to meet him each time he thrust into her. He bent to kiss her, hard, his lips capturing her cries. She clawed at his back, his buttocks, pulling him deeper into her.

The pressure built until Camden knew she was riding the oncoming ripple of another orgasm. Her cries and moans were his undoing, and he groaned as his cock pulsed inside her. They rocked together, locked in wave after wave of pleasure, until they were both spent and breathless. Camden collapsed against her, his strength completely gone. When his senses returned and he realized he was likely crushing Del, he rolled to his side, taking her with him, and held her tightly in his arms.

Camden was still breathing heavily some moments later and he wondered if it would ever return to normal, if he would ever fully recover. Being with Del had changed him. It wasn’t just the physical coupling of their bodies — though God knew that was an amazing part of it — it was also the closeness he felt with her, the joy of knowing she was his and he was hers. He felt so happy and fulfilled that he didn’t think it would matter if he died right then and there.

He looked at Del lying sleepily against him and he was hit with such a strong wave of absolute joy and contentment, as though he were a pious man staring with rapturous devotion at his salvation, that he thought perhaps he already had.

• • •

Del lay in Camden’s arms, satisfied and drowsy, for an untold dozens of minutes. She was spent and sated, utterly convinced she would never again gather the energy to make love, but then Camden hardened and Del smiled, knowing she could never truly get enough of this man. She was surprised he needed so little time to recover, but then she realized this was just one of the many advantages of sleeping with a man still so young. He was engorged and ready, eager to please her and find his own pleasure in her body, and Del was more than happy to oblige.

He rose from the floor and picked her up, carrying her up the stairs to her bedroom. He laid her out on her bed and they began to explore each other again. Where before it had been fevered and desperate, this second time it was slower and more measured, each touch imbued with meaning, each thrust long and deep. They found release together and then lay exhausted in each other’s arms, recovering.

Del laid her head on Camden’s chest, listening to his quickened heartbeat, just now beginning to slow. Her own heart beat a heightened tattoo and her breathing was ragged. Despite the coolness of the autumn evening, they were both cloaked in a thin sheen of perspiration. She felt simultaneously languid and energized, as though their lovemaking had depleted her every reserve of hesitation, fear, and self-doubt, but then replaced it with desire, hope, and contentedness. She keenly felt both the loss and the gain.