“Am I your lady?” she asked quietly.
“Indeed, you are, Elizabeth.” He paused then rumbled, “I want you to be my wife. I want you to be the Countess of Glenbroch. Marry me,” he said. “Be my wife and I will protect you forever.”
She drew in a slow breath. “I do want you to protect me, Tom. It is the only thing that I’ve wanted since the moment I realized how much I needed someone like you.”
“Then use me,” he replied gently.
That word,use, cut through her heart. “Tom, I don’t wish to justuseyou.”
“Do not worry, Elizabeth,” he said kindly. “It’s what I am here for. I’m here to protect a lady like you. It doesn’t have to be more. Just desire me for now and that should be enough.”
“Is it really enough, Tom?” she asked, stunned by the plaintive tone in her voice.
“It has to be,” he said.
She gave a slow nod.
She could not give him more right now. She had not known love. She did not know how to do it.
She knew that young ladies were supposed to write in their diaries, declare their passions, and faint over their amours, but she did not know how to do any of those things. And so, instead, she raised her hand to him.
“Come, Tom,” she commanded. “Ruin me in truth then.”
“Here? Now?” he gasped.
“Is there any other time that is better,” she queried, “than here and now?”
“No,” he growled.
Then he stood slowly, raising himself up from the chair across from her bed. He cut through the dark shadows as if he was familiar with them, and she knew in that moment that he absolutely was.
Slowly, Tom crossed the room and joined Elizabeth on her four-poster bed.
He crawled up the counterpane and sat beside her, their bodies barely touching.
He allowed the silence to fill between them with the ever-growing heat and hunger of their bodies that their nearness brought. Tom gazed upon her, simply taking her in and she did the same in return.
The power of simply sitting with her upon the bed, letting his gaze trail over her face, her cheeks, her lips, down to her breasts along her legs and back to the core of her body, shocked him.
Every sinew of his form sang with the desire to slip his hands between her thighs, to taste her and to join with her as one. And the knowledge that he was about to just that, laced fire through his blood.
She tilted her head back, offering her mouth up to him, and he could no longer deny himself the pleasure.
Tom stole her lips in a hungry kiss, working carefully... Slowly, pacing himself so as not to frighten her. He was aware that she’d never done this before. He doubted that she’d even been allowed to know the full extent of it. No matter how well-read she was, the act between two bodies had been ingrained in him since he was young.
The people of the East End did not have room to hide such things.
But in the gilded halls of the West and middle-class London, children were often hidden from the truths about what happened in the metaphorical dark... Especially young ladies.
“Tell me what you don’t like, luv,” he growled softly. “Tell me if you wish me to stop.”
She nodded quietly, her body taut with anticipation.
Tom trailed kisses down her throat, teasing the line of it. He savored the feel of her collar bones underneath his mouth. He gently untied her night rail, then slipped it over her shoulders, letting it pool about her waist.
Her breasts, beautiful and perfect, begged for him to kiss them. He teased his tongue over her nipples, and she gasped. Her hand splayed out over the counter pane and Elizabeth dug her fingertips into the blanket.
He adored the fact that he caused such a reaction in her. She arched her back against him as he teased her nipples and sucked them into his mouth.