if you want me to stop at any point, you only have to tell me.”
Her brow wrinkled. “This is…this is your husbandly right, Nathan.”
He recoiled slightly. “Is that what he told you? This is my deepest pleasure, Abigail, but only if it’s also yours. If you want to stop, we stop. No recriminations, no questions. We stop.”
Tears stung her eyes, and she stared up at this man she had once despised and now continually surprised her. It would be very easy to care for him deeply. To risk herself far more than she wanted to do. She would have to tread very carefully here and always strive to keep what her body wanted separate from her heart.
“Please touch me,” she whispered. “That’s what I know I want.”
His pupils dilated as he cupped her jawline gently, tilting her face for better access, and then kissed her again. There was something about it, something that shifted and told her that they wouldn’t stop again until they’d shared each other completely. Until she was truly his bride, until she had shattered in pleasure the way she craved to do.
As he kissed her, his hands roved over her body, bunching her dress into his fists, using it as leverage to drag her ever closer. Her heart was racing and her breath came short as anticipation mounted. Just when she thought she could take no more, he glided his fingers up the long line of buttons along her spine and began to unfasten them one by one.
She drew back and watched his expression as he did so. His gaze was hooded and intense as he locked it to hers, holding her steady with just that look.
“Nathan,” she whispered.
His fingers slowed. “What do you need?”
Her breath hitched. In her life, she could almost count the number of times someone had asked her that on just one hand. When he asked it, it seemed like he meant it. Her hands shook as she reached up to trace his cheek with her fingertip, across his bottom lip.
“Too much?” he whispered.
She nodded. “But also not enough. I want to please you. I want to be pleased and yet I’m shaking like a leaf.”
He smiled against her fingertip. “If you surrender, just a little, I promise you I will make this good for you. You don’t have to hold on with both hands.” His own hands gripped against her back. “I have you.”
She blinked. Surrender. She’d done that once and it hadn’t worked out in the slightest. But she wanted so badly what he offered.
“Yes.”
His mouth found hers again, this time with less desperation. He stripped open her buttons down to her waist with what felt like only a flick of his wrist and then his fingers slid beneath the fabric of her gown. Though she was wearing a chemise beneath, the pressure still made her shiver, and she turned from his mouth to bury her face in his shoulder. Sensation hit her in waves, waves that built as he pushed her dress off her shoulders, down her arms.
He’d seen her naked before, of course. That dizzying day on the settee was something she’d dreamed about many times since. But now he was going to look at her and she was his wife. That changed things somehow. Made them mean something more. Because he had to be pleased with her for the rest of his life. If he wasn’t…well, she already knew how that would turn out.
She stepped away from him and lifted her chin as she pushed out of her dress. It pooled at her feet, and she stepped out and kicked it aside. Her undergarments were pretty but the fabric was thin, and with the firelight behind her, she was fairly certain there was very little to be left to the imagination.
“My God, you are something,” he said as he looped a finger around the thin chemise strap and tugged so it drooped against her shoulder. “I could look at you like this all day. All week. And your scent.” He leaned in and brushed his lips to the spot where her neck and shoulder met. “It’s been driving me wild for months. What is it?”
She blinked. Months. How could that be? They’d been enemies months ago. Not playful, but truly at odds. He had to be exaggerating or caught up in the moment.
“Cinnamon,” she whispered, digging her fingers into his hair as he moved his mouth along her neck toward her ear. “Vanilla,” she gasped because when