He flooded her mouth, and she swallowed against the sudden rush, staying with him until the last tremor passed through him.
Only then, did she withdraw, wiping her lips, meeting his gaze as she rose to her feet. “Now you can take me to bed, darling,” she told him, complete in the knowledge that she would never know another moment like this.
It had been sheer perfection.
He held her to him, kissing the top of her head. Their hearts hammered together as one. The most unwelcome thought hit her, that she never wanted him to let her go.
Followed quickly by the inevitable reminder that one day soon, he would.
Chapter Thirteen
“You were right,” Tom said, stroking Hyacinth’s damp, golden curls idly.
They had made love after falling into bed together, but sleep had yet to claim either of them. It was as if their bodies were aware on a deeper level that the time remaining in their arrangement waned with each passing moment. He was insatiable as ever for her. And the devil of it was, the more he had of her, the more desperately he wanted her. His desire for Hyacinth was raging like a house fire.
The way she had gone to her knees, sucking his cock after their bath, had not helped matters. There had been nothing more delicious than allowing her complete sovereignty over him. For now, he would thrust from his mind all painful suspicions of how Southwick must have ill-used her. Tonight was precious, and he would not allow the pains of her past to intrude. He was damned proud of her for her strength and sensuality in the face of what she must have endured.
His Hyacinth was a force. Like lightning, like the wind, like a hurricane. Damn Southwick to hell for abusing her, for failing to appreciate her, for thinking to control her. For treating her as anything less than the gift she was.
Hyacinth caressed his chest now, sending sparks skittering through him with her touch. “What was I right about?”
Her husky voice was low and tender, the play of her fingertips over his skin like velvet. For a brief, wild moment, he wished he could freeze them here like this, Hyacinth in his arms, the night dark and quiet around them, everything seemingly at peace in the world. Nothing and no one to put an end to their idyll. This was what he wanted forever.
Just as quickly, he struck the notion from his mind. He was drunk on lust and the potency of their connection. His recent past was ample proof that he was abysmal at knowing what was right for him. Nell had been all bloody wrong, but he had been too blinded to see it by his own emotions.
He had not suspected her defection until the moment she had handed him his ring.
Stupid, sodding fool.
“Something was bothering me when I arrived earlier,” he admitted, needing to unburden himself. Here was another strange realization—he felt closer to Hyacinth than he had ever felt to another. He felt as if he could trust her. As if he could tell her anything.
He had not felt that way about Nell.
The realization struck him with the force of a fist to the nose, Marquess of Needham style. As if in response, the bridge of Tom’s nose throbbed.
Hyacinth tensed against him, but she continued running her hand over him just the same. “Do you wish to speak of it?”
Yes he did, and no he did not, all at once.
He sighed. “I attended a dinner this evening at Arrington House with my grandparents and, unbeknownst to me, a bevy of marriageable ladies. They are plotting to see me wedded.”
Hyacinth’s questing fingers went still, stopping over his heart. “And you? Do you wish to be wedded?”
“No,” he assured her. “I have not the slightest inclination. I do believe my former betrothed has cured me of the desire to ever marry.”
“I understand the sentiment.” Her caress resumed. “Her Grace paid a call to me as well.”
Grandmère?
Tom frowned into the darkness. “She mentioned nothing of the sort to me.”
“I do not expect she would.” Hyacinth pressed a kiss to his chest. “Her intention was, I believe, to warn me away from you. She said you had promised to wed soon, and I gather she fears I would be a detriment to the process.”
“I made no such promise.” The irritation of earlier at the unified meddling of his grandparents returned, this time magnified. “She overstepped her bounds. Rest assured, I will speak with her.”