Page 10 of The Viscount’s Second Chance (The Lovers’ Arch: Later in Life)

T homas’s fingers speared into her hair, tugging her toward him and he slanted his parted lips over hers in a bruising, claiming kiss. Nora was so tired of fighting this—of fighting herself and of missing him. She melted into Thomas with a sigh, parting her lips to allow his tongue long, sensuous tastes of her mouth. There was nothing tender about the way their bodies warred for supremacy, how he wrapped his fist in her hair and held her at his mercy, how she curled her arms beneath his and raked her nails down his back.

Nora arched against him, pressing her nipples into the hard wall of his chest, aching for contact there nearly as much as she was the swelling, dampening place between her trembling thighs. His strong arm hooked beneath her leg and hiked it up over his hip.

Yes.

There.

Slotting his hips between hers, wedging her against the bookcase provided her with a taste of the pressure she craved. Unable to speak, she bit down on his lower lip, earning a groan of approval from Thomas. He tugged her head back to expose her neck, which he then peppered with open-mouthed kisses and nips of his own. He lavished sinful attention on her pounding pulse and then the heaving swells of her breasts.

She gasped when he hooked his fingers into the neckline of her bodice and, with one swift tug, he rented it straight down the center. Another jerk and her stays followed suit, her breasts bobbing free of the fabric. The hard, raspberry-pink nipples immediately drew Thomas’s ravenous gaze. Hiking her high into his arms so she had to wrap her legs around his waist, he bent his head to catch a nipple between his teeth, mercilessly flicking it with his tongue, holding it just tightly enough that she couldn’t escape. He kept her at his mercy, gripping her bottom in his wide palms, making her at once boneless and clenching with need. She felt empty and desperate for fulfillment. She wanted him, body, mind, and soul with such desperation that it was proof she’d never stopped loving him even when she’d spent years trying to convince herself otherwise. Her body dripped with need, pulsed in desperate pleas for him to slide home and make them one once again.

It had been too long—too long without Thomas, too long without his love, his body, his smile, his laughter, his kindness… For so long, Nora had told herself she’d felt fulfilled. Of course, she’d loved—did love—Beth for every moment since they’d first met, but a part of her had lain dormant and alone all these years without the warmth and heat of Thomas’s love.

Knowing that he’d felt the same was humbling.

And empowering.

“God, Nora ,” his voice rumbled low in his chest when her lower body undulated against him. Her world and mind both spun as he pivoted them away from the wall and, in a few long strides, settled her on the sofa and dropped to his knees on the floor between her legs. “I need to taste you,” he growled. “I shall die if I don’t.” He flipped up her skirts, tore at the slit in her drawers, and pressed her legs as wide as he could; Nora watched him pause and gape at her exposed pink flesh glistening with need. She should have felt shy and vulnerable, but this was Thomas . And the worshipful gleam in his eyes told her he was nothing short of desirous. “I’ve dreamed of this,” he murmured, running a knuckle along the petals of her sex and sending another tremor of all-consuming need through her. “You don’t know how many nights I lay awake drenched in sweat, my hand on my hard cock, and wishing you were there with me.”

Nora whimpered at the image he’d painted for her, her breath coming in quick pants as he gradually increased the pressure of his fingers. “I, as well…” She sighed and felt lighter than she had in years now that she’d admitted to the depth and longevity of her feelings for this man.

He flashed her a wicked smile that melted her like wax held to a flame before dipping his head and kissing, licking, sucking, nipping his way from the crease of her thigh to the thatch of burnished curls protecting her sex. With a deep moan of appreciation, he nuzzled her, inhaled her scent like the finest perfume, parted her with his fingers and licked her in one long stroke.

Her head fell back and her hands flew to Thomas’s head, holding him there while he feasted. His palms pressed her wide and his thumbs spread her folds so there was no hiding from the erotic onslaught as he toyed with her sensitive flesh, lapping up every drop of her desire, swirling around the sensitive bud residing at the crux of her sex, plunging deep inside of her. She gasped and writhed against him, her hips bucking as he sucked her and caught that bud with his teeth…and then his fingers joined.

A deep moan was ripped from Nora’s chest as he coated one and then two fingers in her wetness and then plunged them deeply inside of her tight sheath. Rotating and curling them inside of her, all the while continuing to tease her with his mouth, was causing the pressure and tension to build inside of her with alarming speed.

“Oh! Oh, Thomas, yes!”

“Mmmmmmm.” She could feel Thomas’s smile against her swollen flesh. “I’ve missed hearing my name on your lips just before you come.”

And Nora proceeded to do just that.

Nora’s climax was as hard and furious as a sudden ocean squall. Thomas was keenly aware of how close he’d come to drowning in everything she was, but it was well worth the risk. He lapped up every drop of her ambrosial slickness, continuing his onslaught of her body until she begged him to stop and said she could take it no longer. Her muscles quaked beneath his hands and her body hummed with release. Looking up her limp and sated body to find her head lolling to the side, her chestnut hair half-damp, loose and wild, her eyes half-shuttered as she watched him, was Thomas’s tipping point.

He freed his cock from his breeches, gripping it tightly in his fist and pumping it hard. Sparks of desire flared out through his body like lit gunpowder as he gazed down at Nora, begging her with his eyes to give him permission.

Nora’s gaze met his and she nodded, opening her arms to him as if welcoming him home for the first time in many, many years. Leaning forward, he guided the broad head of his member to her slick folds, running it up and down until they both were gasping with need. He notched himself into place, grasped her hips, and pulled her to him as he thrust to the hilt in one powerful motion that made them both cry out in relief and desire.

He began to move without hesitation, pumping into her tight, wet sheath, angling and grinding his pelvis against hers to rub that place that set her on fire. She threw her head back and moaned deeply; she threw her arms around his hips to bury her fingernails in the flexing muscles of his buttocks, urging him on as one would a stallion during a punishing ride. He was only too happy to oblige.

Too long.

He’d been too long without her close to him and it had been like living half a life—a shell of a man without a purpose beyond those assigned to his status and title. When he was with her, he felt joy and love and excitement. No other woman had ever made him feel those things, and he knew no other woman ever would.

“I’ve missed you,” he growled as he leaned forward to grip the back of the chair. The position afforded him access to her gasping lips, and also better leverage to fill her deeply again and again with punishing, claiming thrusts. Her inner muscles rippled around him at his words and she kissed him back with equal fervor. Her tongue swept into his mouth and she devoured his lips as he had her body. His thighs slapped against her bottom; she was pinned between his pounding body and the sofa, and she didn’t seem to mind it one bit.

“I’ve missed you, too,” she sobbed against his mouth before breaking away with a cry. “I’m so close. I need—I need to use my fingers as well.”

He stopped her hand from wriggling between them and replaced it with his own, driven wild by the way she knew what she liked and demanded it. He longed to fulfill her every desire and learn all the facets of her pleasure. “Let me. I know what you need.” His fingers delved into her folds and, coating them in her honeyed nectar, he began to pluck and swirl just where she needed it most.

Memories came flying back to him. Their times spent exploring one another during stolen moments, learning to kiss and tease, to pleasure themselves and each other. There was freedom in his knowledge of her, and there was also excitement. He knew how she felt and how she looked when she came, and he also knew he’d do absolutely anything it took to get her there so he could experience it again.

Five strokes was all it took to send Nora over the edge once more.

Five strokes had her screaming his name as her body convulsed around his and he slammed his mouth over hers to keep his servants from overhearing.

Five strokes had her perfect cunny clenching around him and dragging his orgasm out in blinding wave after wave of ecstasy. His groan was soul-deep as his hips dug erratically again and again with each new pulse of his release. Nora held him until every last drop had been milked from his body; until his arms could no longer support him and he pulled her with him from the chair to the carpet before the hearth. He draped her over him, a leg on either side of his hips as they remained joined, his cockstand taking its time to flag.

He held her pressed to him, content to lie there before the crackling fire smelling comfortably of dry pine and woodsmoke, his nose buried in her hair, her hand pressed to his hammering heart.

Hours later, Nora was back in her bedchamber, swathed in her nightshift, dressing gown, and a blanket across her lap. The air was still humid and scented with honeysuckle from her bath.

Despite Thomas’s best efforts to convince her to stay with him after their bodies were disentangled, Nora had insisted upon returning to her house that evening.

She needed to clear her head.

He hadn’t been pleased—as evidenced by the repeated tic of his jaw muscles—but he, ever the gentleman, did not force her to do anything she did not wish. Above him wanting to keep her close, she suspected a great deal of his displeasure stemmed from the fact that her staff would not return to full duty for another couple of days.

“What about meals?” he’d grumbled, arms crossed over his broad chest as they lumbered back to her Townhouse in his carriage. He’d done his best to reassemble her ruined gown and then wrapped her in as many cloaks and blankets as he could find until she’d felt quite like a stuffed child’s toy sitting there across from him.

“I am quite capable of procuring my own food from the larder. I am not entirely without staff—one of the maids still stops by to check in and she brings items from the market.”

“I still don’t see why they wouldn’t all return to duty upon your taking up residence once more.”

“Because I wasn’t supposed to be back in London for another couple of days. I’d already promised them leave and I refuse to go back on my word. They are grieving too, Thomas. Just because they are employees does not mean they feel Beth’s loss any less keenly. We were like a small community on our own island after all these years.”

He fell silent, but she could see the thoughts scrolling behind his eyes and witnessed the flicker as something occurred to him. “You said a maid comes to check on you and the house. A single maid cannot draw a bath for you.”

“Well, no.” Nora averted her eyes. She was a bit miffed that she hadn’t thought of that before—so used to having her needs met when they came. Her next realization was even more embarrassing. “But that is beside the point because she already came and left while we were out.”

Thomas met her with a flat stare. “So you are saying that we left my perfectly well-staffed, efficient household for one without a single set of hands to draw you a much needed bath to keep this blasted chill from settling into your bones—if it hasn’t already?”

Nora winced. No reply was necessary.

She’d been so determined to return to her own home that she truly hadn’t thought it all through. It was one thing to be able to light her own hearth when needed and select whatever she wished from the larder when she was hungry, but it was entirely another to perform more strenuous household duties.

Like hauling up a brass bathing tub and then lugging pale after pale of boiling water to her bedchamber.

The carriage arrived in front of her tidy Townhouse—the house she now knew was wholly thanks to Thomas—and he’d grumbled a few choice curses beneath his breath before scooping her into his arms, calling for his two footmen to follow him inside and striding up the steps without a single care to who might see them.

He’d deposited his Nora-bundle in her bedchamber, commanded her to stay put, removed his coat, rolled up his shirtsleeves to reveal strongly corded forearms dusted in dark hair, and turned to his footmen and to bark orders. The process began slowly as the brass tub and pales were located, but the men did a remarkable job of efficiently preparing a bath for her in a household unfamiliar to them. The last bucket was poured and Thomas had stretched his back. “This would have been a sight easier twenty years ago.”

Nora had shot him a skeptical look. If anything, he looked even stronger and hardier than he had the last time they’d been this close.

“Thank you. You didn’t need to do all this.”

“No, I didn’t.” He’d fixed her with his penetrating gaze. “You could have stayed with me and all your needs would have been met without backbreaking labor.”

“I cannot stay with you, Thomas,” Nora had said with a heavy sigh of a woman who has repeated herself time and time again.

He ignored her, saying only, “Ring when you are done and we will have the tub emptied and removed.”

“That isn’t necessary,” she said quickly, suddenly keenly aware that no less than four men—Thomas, his footmen, and his driver—would all be waiting for her to bathe.

“Yes, it is.” Thomas’s words brooked no further argument. “Do you need assistance in undressing?”

Though there was no lurid insinuation in his tone, her cheeks burned nonetheless when she shook her head. She’d donned one of her gowns with side lacings that morning and she could dress and undress herself without issue.

She watched him leave and then stepped behind the screen to disrobe and step into the steaming bath. It had been heavenly. Thomas’s body and his presence had kept her warm enough, but this…this was glorious. Adding her favorite oil to the water and selecting a cake of soap, she sank deep below the water and allowed it to warm every inch of her.

When she was done, the tub had been emptied and cleared away by the men, replaced by a tray of supper, hot and fresh. She wondered where Thomas had procured it, but knew she shouldn’t underestimate his determination. He’d left her that evening with a promise to return the following day so they could resume their search, unwilling to hear any of her arguments to the contrary. Stubborn oaf.

After she’d gratefully eaten her fill of the roast chicken, potatoes, and other root vegetables with crusty bread, she’d curled up on her bed and bundled herself in as many layers as she could stand. The house was unbearably quiet since Thomas and his men had left. She hadn’t realized how comforting the small sounds of other life in the building were until they were absent.

“Just a few more days,” she muttered to herself as reassuringly as she could.

The weather outside had picked back up into a full-blown storm. A crack of lightning caused a flare of white light to fill the room through the gap in her curtains, once again illuminating Beth’s letter where it remained on her desk. She continued staring at it long after the light died away and was replaced with a rolling boom of thunder.

A sigh of resignation heavy on her lips, Nora threw off the blankets and walked over to the table, snatching up the envelope before she could convince herself otherwise. She slit it open with her penknife and carried it back to the bed and the flickering candle she’d set on the nearby table. After tucking herself back in, she stared at Beth’s familiar scrawl on the thick cream envelope and traced her fingers through the slashes and curls of her name. She held her breath and pulled out the letter, unfolding it with slightly unsteady fingers.

Then, she began to read.