Truth Within Dreams (13 page)

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Authors: Elizabeth Boyce

BOOK: Truth Within Dreams
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“What, love?”

“Deep down, what I really believed—what I
knew
—was that if I could just make it to you, everything would be all right. You would make sure of it. I just … I just had to get to you.” She cradled the sides of his face; her thumbs brushed back and forth over his cheeks. “But it had to be you. I love you, you see, and I—”

Her confession was so damn sweet, it made his heart ache. He sealed his mouth on hers, needing a moment to absorb what she’d said. To think, all the while he’d wanted her so badly, she’d been wanting him, too. It was heady stuff, enough to make a man want to start making up for those weeks of lost time. Softly, he probed with his tongue at the seam of her mouth. She sighed and opened, sliding her tongue against his.

After a few minutes of luxuriously slow, drugging kisses, Henry started down the slender column of her neck. Lips and tongue worked in tandem to locate her pulse. He was delighted to feel her heartbeat quicken beneath her delicate skin.

“I never would have had the courage to climb into that bed with anyone else,” she said in a sleepy voice.

Henry grunted. “Damn right. You’re mine, Claudia, do you hear me?”

She sighed something that sounded like acquiescence, but it might have been in response to the brush of his fingers over the crease where her lush fundament met silky thighs. His hands stilled. “Claudia?”

“Hmm?” Slowly, she opened her eyes, dreamy and unfocused.

“I love you.”

Her gaze sharpened. “Oh!” She pressed the back of her hand against her mouth.

“I want to marry you. Not because of Sir Saint, or because you’ve ruined me and I’ve ruined you—although we
have
thoroughly ruined one another,” he said with a lopsided grin, “especially with your midnight storming of the walls. By breakfast, the whole village will know about this.”

She exhaled a teary laugh. “My diabolical scheme is revealed.”

He smiled and tucked an errant strand of her hair behind one ear, gazing at her with all the emotion he’d longed to express for years now. “But because I need you,” he continued. “I was devastated when I thought I’d hurt you, Claudia. You’re the last person I would ever wish to harm. And I’m sorry I lashed back. Leaving you beside the river as I did …” He swallowed around a lump of guilt.

She shook her head. “No, don’t. What you did was just. You gave me much to think on. Besides …” Her hip pressed against his groin. His breath hitched at the sharp pang of desire. “I didn’t stop you, did I? I was willing. I wanted you. I want you.”

Hot blood thundered through his veins. If he had any chance of finishing his proposal in a coherent fashion, he had to get on with the business. He took a half-step back and pressed on. “When I was a boy, it was you, Claudia, who made me feel part of the family at Rudley Court. It was you whose company I craved, whose mind I couldn’t wait to engage. All these years, Claude has been like a brother, but you were
never
a sister. You were always different, always more. You were always … mine.”

He took Claudia’s right hand in both of his own and dropped to one knee. The view from here was agonizing. The softly rounded skin of her belly was flushed a pale pink. Inviting warmth emanated from her body, and—God above—he could smell her arousal.
WANT,
his body announced. His balls were heavy and tight. Panting, he swayed and placed a kiss right below her navel. Her stomach twitched. He smiled against her.

“Claudia Baxter,” he said, “will you do me the very great honor of marrying me?”

For a small eternity, she just stared at him with huge, doe eyes and her bottom lip crushed between her teeth.

Henry’s body, meanwhile, vibrated like the strings inside a pianoforte being hammered away at by a cantankerous toddler. His arousal had become painful, all anticipation with no relief in sight. He worried his mind might snap, that he might, in fevered desperation, mount her leg, like his mother’s dastardly little terrier.

“Claudia, you’re killing me,” he stated. “If you aren’t ready to answer, all right, but I’ll need to excuse myself for a few—”

“Yes,” she said. Then her arms were around his head and neck, pressing his face into her abdomen. “Oh, yes, yes, yes, Henry!
Yes!

A man could only take so much, Henry reasoned, and when his new (and naked) fiancée wrapped her arms about him and called out his name and that breathy little
Yes!
he reached his limit. He swept her up suddenly, turned around, and deposited her in the middle of the bed.

And then he lowered his mouth to her pinked, slick flesh and kissed her.

Claudia yelped and twisted. Henry gave her a swat on the rump. “Be still,” he growled against her nether lips.

“What are you doing?” she demanded. “That can’t be seemly.”

“But swiving you by the river would have been?”

“Swiving? Is that what you call this?”

“Not really, no.” The tip of his tongue dragged circles around her small button. Claudia’s moans and mewls were addictive. He wanted to hear the next one, and the next; he would do whatever it took to bring those sounds of pleasure to her lips. Two fingers gently parted her folds. He lapped at her entrance, savoring the smell and taste of her.

Claudia’s hands scrabbled in his hair and slapped the bed. “That’s … that’s … oh!”

With one hand, he reached up and covered a breast, palming the firm roundness while his mouth continued its sensual assault. His other thumb rubbed lightly across her clitoris.

“Henry!” she cried.

“Is this too much?” His voice rumbled against her sex. “Shall I stop?”

Claudia stilled. “Don’t you dare,” she panted. “Please, keep swiving me.”

He chuckled. “I told you,” he drawled between long laps along her slick length, “this isn’t swiving.”

“What’s swiving, then?” She sounded breathless and bewildered.

Henry propped up on an elbow. Claudia’s face was flushed. Strands of hair, worked loose from her braid, frizzled around her head. “Swiving, my dearest Miss Baxter, is when I enter your body with my own, when we bring each other to pleasure and completion.” Her mouth dropped open in an adorable O. “Swiving,” and now he was kissing his way back down her belly, “is when I drive into you over and over.” One finger pressed into her tight entrance—just a bit—to offer a practical demonstration. “You’ll wrap your legs around my hips and beg me to go faster or harder or slower.” The erotic words provoked himself as much as her. His hips rolled against the bed, but he found no ease on the linen sheets. Instead, he only succeeded in ratcheting his torment up another notch. He drew her swollen nub into his mouth and sucked, long and slow. Claudia arched off the bed and made a keening sound. “And I’ll tease you and love you until we come apart in each others’ arms, sweetheart.” He sucked on her again. And again. And one more time.

And then her hot flesh rippled around his finger and bathed him in her sweet nectar. An inarticulate cry slid into a groan. As the shudders of her climax ebbed, Henry pressed up on his knees. It would be the easiest thing in the world to slide home into her welcoming body. It seemed the natural thing to do. He wanted her so damn much.

But.

Something of his dilemma must have shown on his face. Claudia cooed. She wound her arms around his neck and brought him down for a kiss—on the mouth this time. “Thank you,” she whispered. “That was the most glorious thing I’ve ever felt.” Her legs, limber with repletion, slid up his sides. Her feet caressed the backs of his calves. The head of his cock brushed against her wet heat. He hissed.

“Do it, Henry,” she urged, all earnestness. “Swive me.”

A snort erupted from his throat. He laughed and shifted off of her, flopping on his back at her side. A look of consternation crossed her face. “What’s the matter? Don’t you want to?”

As if to speak for itself, his throbbing cock twitched. Henry took himself in hand. “Oh, I want to, sweetheart. But for all that we’re ruined, I won’t take your maidenhead before we’re wed.” Her brow puckered. He drew his hand up his shaft. “Just look, Claudia. This is how much I want you.”

Shyly, her gaze tracked down his body. Her nostrils flared at the sight of his engorged member. A small hand tentatively reached toward him. “May I?” she asked.

“God, yes,” he blurted.

One fingertip perched lightly on the tip. She drew the bead of moisture there down his thick length. Henry’s breath stuttered in his throat. Sweat beaded on his forehead. He gritted his teeth, determined not to erupt at a single touch of his lady’s finger. As she brought her hand around, gripping him in imitation of his example, he started counting backwards from five hundred, by sevens.

Her silky palm glided upward. “Is this right?”

He clamped his hand over hers. “Tighter, like this.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she protested.

He chuckled. “You won’t. He’s a sturdy little beggar.” Henry showed Claudia the pace he wanted. After a few strokes, his hips involuntarily bucked. “That’s it,” he rasped. “Just like that.” Claudia seemed to really get into the spirit of the thing; she nudged his hand away and took charge.

Henry wrapped her braid around his wrist and pulled her head to him. He kissed her savagely, plundering her mouth as he could not yet her body. His buttocks clenched and his balls drew tight. Warm fluid spurted onto his belly while waves of intense pleasure racked his body.

Claudia made a little sound of alarm. As he came down from his euphoria, Henry peeked out from under heavy eyelids, dreading to see her disgust of his body’s response.

Instead, she was regarding the mess with seeming interest. “Everything all right?” he asked, cautious.

Claudia dragged a finger through his seed. “I just wish … This should have happened inside me, shouldn’t it have?”

Henry gathered her into his arms. “I love you,” he murmured.

She nuzzled against his neck. “I love you, too, Henry.”

Later, after he cleaned them with a wet flannel and extinguished the candles, Henry drew Claudia’s back against his chest. She fit just right in his arms, her bottom snug against his groin and her head right beneath his chin. And for a virgin, she took awfully well to falling asleep, naked, in a man’s arms. Which reminded him …

“Claudia?” he asked, his voice thick with the sleep creeping over him.

“Hmm?”

“Why did you take off your clothes when you came into my room?”

“Because,” she said, her voice likewise drifting out to the sea of dreams, “I needed you to see me for who I honestly am. No tricks, no lies.” Her voice floated away, and he thought she’d gone to sleep, when she suddenly spoke again. “Besides, when I’m alone with you, taking off my clothes feels like the right thing to do. It’s all right?”

He smiled into her hair. “Yes, darling. It’s all right.”

Epilogue

Marriage to Henry, Claudia thought, was a marvelous state in which to find herself. After her impromptu trip to Fairbrook led to that second scandalous night spent with Henry, there was no question but that they would have to wed. Together, they faced her parents’ chastisement. Henry held her hand when they told the vicar of Claudia’s change in prospective bridegroom. From Duncan, there was only a sigh of relief, followed by a brotherly kiss on her cheek, welcoming Claudia to the family.

The village was all abuzz with gossip, but in true Claudia fashion, she simply put a smile on her face and brazened it out. There was some brief talk of a special license, but Claudia put an end to that codswallop. It wouldn’t do, she said, to act furtive and ashamed. Besides, she couldn’t possibly marry without Claude present. Everyone who mattered understood that, at least.

And so Claudia spent two months as an engaged lady, during which time Henry was fastidious in courting her properly. There were rides and drives and promenades, but no more glorious nights like the one they’d spent at Fairbrook. Whenever Claudia’s kisses became a little too urgent, or her hands a little too bold, Henry set her aside with a smile which, over time, became ever more strained.

The day of her wedding began with rain, but cleared to a beautiful, late summer day. The earth and everything on it looked that much nicer, she decided, for the fresh washing. Her father escorted her to the front of the little church and placed her hand in Henry’s. On her other side, Claude grinned and gave her a wink of encouragement. Henry had griped about Claudia poaching his best man, but Claudia pointed out twindom gave her greater claim to her brother’s services as attendant. Besides, Henry had The Honorables in attendance, who had all embraced Claudia like a long-lost sister. Lorna Dewhurst claimed to be ecstatic to have another woman in the group, and Claudia already liked her immensely. Harrison Dyer stood with Henry, his keen gaze assessing Claudia and, thankfully, finding her worthy of his friend.

After hours of feasting and fêting and dancing until she’d nearly worn a hole in her new slippers, Claudia and Henry departed Rudley Court and made the short drive to Fairbrook, where Duncan did them the very great honor of making no appearance whatsoever. In fact, he and his mother, along with The Honorables, were ensconced at Rudley Court for the next several days, even though the newlyweds planned to take up immediate residence in Fairbrook’s dower house.

There were more felicitations from the footman and maid at the dower house, and proclamations of delight over the supper
à deux
which had been laid out for them, and compliments to be conveyed to the chef in the main house and then finally,
finally
, Henry politely booted the servants out the door and whisked his wife to bed.

And as he’d promised, Henry teased her and loved her so thoroughly and well, that when, at last, he pushed his body into her own, there was only a brief discomfort, like a hard pinch. He held himself still for a while, allowing her time to adjust to the new sensation. After a moment, the pain passed and Claudia became restless. Her legs hooked around his hips; her hands held him tight to her chest. She arched against him and made a wordless plea for … something.

Henry withdrew and surged forward, filling her completely. His long, deep strokes caressed her insides with the most loving, intimate touch imaginable. Pressure built in her womb. Henry butted against the entrance of it over and over, while his mouth and hands showered attention on her lips, her breasts, her throat.

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