Realm 04 - A Touch of Grace (36 page)

Following her down, Gabriel’s body covered hers. It amazed him how well they fit together. As if they were made for each other.

His mouth returned to hers as if his hands explored Grace’s body. “I have dreamed of this,” he whispered. His lips trailed a line of wet kisses from her ear to the juncture of her neck and shoulder. “Grace, I want to look upon you. Please permit me to know you completely.”

Her arms lifted to circle his neck, and she answered by pulling him to her for another kiss. This time, Gabriel’s tongue slide between her lips, and her body arched closer to his.

As he kissed her, his hand slipped beneath the nightrail’s hem. His fingers caressed her bare skin as he lifted the garment. As he inched the cloth higher, Gabriel felt his dreams coming true. Not that he had dreamed of a willing wife. Most men of his station were fortunate to know a woman who endured their desires, but Grace was more than tolerating his advances. She welcomed him. His wife brought vitality to the room, and he had always dreamed of bringing life to Gossling Hill.

*

Grace knew not what to expect, but this was beyond her comprehension. Every time Lord Godown kissed her, her heart ceased to beat and her bones became the consistency of a Gunter’s frozen ice. Lady Worthing had described such pleasure, but Grace had not understood until this moment. Of course, she had lain with her husband previously, but that night was nothing like this burning intensity As exquisite as that memory had been, this one would surpass it.

Grace thought it impossible his man could look upon her with such intensity. His golden hair hung tousled about his face, and his god-like countenance displayed the passion he felt. A passion as deep as hers.

*

Gabriel’s lips kissed a line of heat along her throat. His knuckles stroked the outside of her thighs as he pushed the cloth higher. It exposed her apex, and Gabriel’s erection jerked in the tight breeches he still wore. His groin screamed for release, but he meant to pleasure his wife before his lust was quenched. The material slid over her hips, her waist, her breasts, her shoulders, and her head. He tossed it somewhere behind him and looked upon Grace’s body.

Lying self-consciously naked upon the bed, Grace moved to cover herself with her hands, but Gabriel brushed them aside. “You are as beautiful as I imagined,” he whispered hoarsely. Bizarre circumstances had thrown them together. If not for Fate, he might never have seen her, and Gabriel realized that situation would have been one of his greatest sins.

He lowered his mouth to her breast and tongued her nipple. Grace rewarded him with a throaty moan. As he slid his hand across the flat of her stomach, Gabriel sucked her breast deeply, while Grace writhed beneath him. With his fist, he bumped her legs apart and traced the wetness he found between her folds up and down the length of her. Finally, he slid a finger into her opening, and she groaned audibly.

“Permit me to bring you pleasure, Grace,” he whispered as he reclaimed her mouth. The heat scorched his lips, but Gabriel wanted more. He wanted to remain in this bed forever. His desire flamed, and he did not think he could survive this experience, but he would die happy.

Quickly, he divested himself of his breeches, his small clothes, and his robe. Heat against heat, he draped his body over Grace’s “Hmm,” he groaned as she moved against him. He returned to her breasts. Cupping them, Gabriel devoured them with nips, licks, and deep drawing of his lips across the nipples. Grace stroked his hair. Stiff pebbled peaks rubbed against his chest hair when Gabriel turned to work his hand between their bodies. He found the nub at her apex and stroked it until Grace moved against him.

When she clutched the bed linens in her fists, he slid two fingers into her wetness. With his thumb he concentrated his energies into building a heat she could not resist. “Permit it to carry you away,” he whispered to her ear. “It is the way nature intended it to happen.” His tongue traced her nipples, and Grace’s legs slammed tight around his hand. She arched beneath him as a keening gasp escaped her lips. “Gabriel,” she moaned.

He permitted her an easy release. After all, it was her first true climax. Wiping his fingers upon the bed cloths, Gabriel slid up the length of her body and nuzzled her neck. “I did not think you could be more beautiful than when I looked upon you earlier, but I erred,” he said softly. As her breathing became more normal, Gabriel lifted himself onto his forearms. “Are you prepared to know me as your husband, Grace?”

“Yes, Gabriel. I wish to be your wife completely.” Surprisingly, her voice held determination.

Settling himself between her legs, Gabriel positioned his head at her opening. When they had known intimacies in Mr. Bradshaw’s Scottish inn, Gabriel had not been at his best, but tonight he would bury himself in her. The thought of it caused his erection to jerk in his hand. Closing his eyes to the exquisite pleasure of her heat, Gabriel slid the tip into her opening and pressed forward. She was so wet. So hot. He could have exploded immediately. An inch. And then two.

The delicious friction drained his control. Gabriel pressed further: Until he rested deeply within her heat. He leaned forward for another kiss and began to move within her. “Wrap your legs about my hips,” he rasped. Sliding his hands beneath Grace’s hips, he lifted her ever so slightly. Tilting her where he might bury himself to the hilt. A guttural moan escaped his throat.

As he set up a rhythm, Grace’s cheeks flushed, and her lids drifted closed. “Look at me, Grace,” he groaned on a deep intake of air. “I want to lose myself in your eyes.”

The heat drove him faster, but Gabriel fought for control. He would not know his own release until Grace knew pleasure again.

Tongues met. They each demanded a pleasure only the other could give. Closer. Closer to the edge. He rocked them to a shuddering spasm. When her core clenched about him, Gabriel gave into the explosion of stars. With one more powerful thrust he spilled his seed inside her body.

He collapsed upon her. His attraction to this woman was not a reasonable one, and she was certainly not part of his plans. He should be questioning her regarding her involvement in the attacks upon his personage. Yet, he could not deny his need for her. Where in the hell had his control gone? He was the perfect British agent. An egotistical aristocrat who knew his place in the world. Yet, he had turned his title over to a woman who had no connections of which to speak.

Gabriel rolled to his side and gathered Grace into his arms. “Sleep, my Dear,” he said as she snuggled closer. He draped a blanket over them.

“Is it always like that, my Lord?’ she said with a heavy sigh.

Gabriel thought, Never until tonight, but he said, “You and I are perfect together.”

*

For three days, he had paced the halls of Gossling Hill like some randy schoolboy. He had never known the same woman so many times in such a short period. And what was so ironic was he could have willingly taken Grace to bed double the times. He had refrained because he worried she might not wish his attentions so often; surprisingly though, Grace had welcomed each of his overtures.

This morning she had curiously touched him, and Gabriel had fought for control. His wife had actually giggled when he had collapsed onto the bed in a quivering heap. With his last breath, he rasped, “How did you know?”

His wife slid into his loose embrace, resting her head upon his shoulder. As she mindlessly ran those pure gold fingers across his chest, Grace said softly, “Lady Worthing insisted on having a serious talk regarding the myths of the marriage bed.” She raised her head to look upon him seriously. “The viscountess thought she performed a great service.” Her head returned to his shoulder, and she sighed as his hand lightly stroked her back. “Therefore, I listened closely to Lady Worthing. Much of what she said spoke of an intimacy I could never have imagined if there had been no Scottish inn.”

Gabriel shifted his weight and kissed the top of Grace’s head. “Remind me to send Lady Worthing a bauble to signify my gratitude,” he said teasingly.

Grace kissed his chest. “Perhaps, you might teach me what you desire most from me, my Lord.”

“Gabriel,” he instructed as he lifted her chin with his fingertips. He kissed her sweetly. “You have very little to learn.” He brushed Grace’s lips with his. “I am a man blessed beyond others. Yet, behind these doors, we will deal honestly with each other.” Gabriel caressed her breast, but when his wife grimaced, he released her. “Would you prefer I did not touch you thus?” he asked in concern.

He noted the panic as it crossed Grace’s countenance. “Oh, no, my Lord.” She blushed thoroughly. “It is a most pleasurable sensation.” His wife bit her bottom lip in distress. “It is…my breasts…”

“Say it, Grace. We must speak in earnest to each other,” he encouraged.

She dipped her eyes in embarrassment. “My breasts are tender,” she said so softy Gabriel had to listen with his whole being to hear her.

Immediately, he felt like an ogre. “Oh, Grace,” he said as he captured her hand and brought it to rest over his heart. “I should have thought…have considered you are not accustomed to such rough treatment.”

She said seriously, “You did nothing, Gabriel, I did not desire.”

“Yet, I should have considered how sheltered you have been held…”

Tears misted her eyes. “Please do not turn from me, my Lord,” she said on a rush.

For several elongated seconds, Gabriel stared at her in disbelief. Her history had convinced Grace he would turn her away for the least deficit. Who had so destroyed her confidence? Even he had only seen the façade she displayed for the world. He sat upright and pulled her to him. “Grace, I will never turn from you. You are my wife, and somehow we must build a life together. A life that holds responsibility to Gossling Hll. A life that brings joy and laugher to fill our children’s days. But also a life where neither of us knows regrets. I will not see you suffer, especially at my hand. I will treat you more gently over the next few days–until your body becomes more accustomed to my desire for you.”

“You still want me?” she asked skeptically.

Gabriel caught her hand and directed it to his rapidly hardening erection. “Feel my desire,” he growled as her fingers encircled him. “Grace,” he moaned as he laid her down.

*

Over breakfast on their fourth day together, he said, “I thought perhaps we should travel to Lancashire to address your family. The weather appears to be holding. That is if you hold no objections.”

Grace’s countenance spoke of her happiness, and Gabriel’s initial qualms regarding revisiting his wife’s connections to the opium shipments eased. Making her happy had somehow become tantamount. “Oh, my Lord,” she gushed. “Can it be? Mercy shall be so pleased, and I am grateful for your generosity.” She squeezed the back of his hand, and despite his best efforts, Grace’s warmth filled his heart and reached into the cold that had frosted his soul since the day his impetuosity had forced him from England’s shores.

“I have asked Avery to pack your portmanteau. As it will likely take your sister some time to organize her belongings and me several hours to make settlements with your brother, we will stay at an inn this evening. When Grace noticeably frowned, Gabriel flinched.

“My Lord…” she stammered. “My brother…Geoffrey is a difficult man. Please promise me you will not permit the baron to rile you. Nor will you permit Geoffrey to demand a large settlement. I would not have you finance my brother’s vices. If you bring Mercy to Gossling Hill, it shall be recompense aplenty.”

Gabriel did not want to ask, but his curiosity won out. “Do you not wish my connection to benefit your brother?”

She sighed heavily. “Do not mistake my words. I grieve, my Lord, for the estate that was my home for many years, and for those who have served the barony. And I grieve for both my brother and my sister: for Geoffrey because responsibility is not part of his vocabulary and for Mercy who has known such horrors under the current Baron Nelson’s reign.”

“And no grief for you own fate?” Gabriel asked tentatively. Surely, his wife regarded her recent history as a tribulation.

Her fingers interlaced with his. “There have been days, my Lord, I have cursed my life, but now I see all those days of deprivation have led me to this moment. How could I despise any day that brought me closer to knowing a home and you?”

Damn! he thought. What a perfect response! Either his wife was the greatest actress to set foot upon the stage, or she had just uttered the most profound words he had ever heard. If footmen did not move about the morning room, Gabriel would have scooped her into his arms and kiss Grace senseless. His hand moved of its own freewill to caress her chin. At this moment, he praised the stars that had led her to that Scottish inn yard at the same instant as they had he. “You are a remarkable woman, Grace Crowden.” His thumb stroked the scar on the tip of her chin. He loved the way she blushed when he showed her such intimacy. “I have wondered over the last few days the source of this small imperfection. It is of recent origin.”

Grace’s eyes lowered in embarrassment. “A gift from my brother,” she said softly.

Gabriel made certain his servants were from hearing range. “What transgression earned such treatment?” He fought for control. Geoffrey Nelson had struck Grace. When he spoke to the man today, Gabriel would express his contempt in no uncertain terms.

Grace’s weak smile spoke of discomfiture. “I foolishly thought to return to our room in Scotland, and Geoffrey thought differently.”

“The baron struck you?” he said in disbelief. “Did you resist?” Gabriel wanted all the facts.

Grace’s eyes stared off to the left. “Geoffrey had insisted I accompany him. You slept,” she reminded him. “I did not wish to abandon you, but I could not permit my brother to demand the connection.” Gabriel had never considered the possibility that Grace’s departure was meant to protect him. “As we rolled from the inn yard, I spotted Mr. Wright. I feared the worst and attempted to climb down from my brother’s carriage. Geoffrey’s blow kept me silent for several miles.”