Slave to the Night (The Brotherhood 2)

Elliot's words sent her hurling over the edge. Pure and explosive, her release shattered through her, the muscles in her core clamping round him, holding him now and forever. She shuddered as the tremors continued to pulse. Then his breath came in a long, satisfied groan and he stilled as he joined her in blissful paradise.

There had been few moments in Elliot's life where words failed to describe his emotion.

If fact, that was a lie.

He could think of no other time, except for now. Various words sprang to mind: elation, exaltation, lust, longing — all of them inadequate. All of them falling hopelessly short of describing the joy he felt swelling in his chest.

He glanced down at Grace. Her brilliant blue eyes were hazy with sated desire, her heavy lids revealing an inner calm. Her warm limbs were wrapped around him, enveloping him, holding him.

Hell, he could live like this forever.

But he sensed that would not be the case.

This was goodbye.

Attuned to her thoughts and feelings, he knew she intended to return to Cobham. She'd not spoken the words, but they were there in the desperate way she'd kissed him. They were evident in the way she held him so tight to her body as though they would be fused as one and as such there could be no separation.

He moved to roll off her, but she kept him anchored there.

"Not yet," came the softest, sweetest words he'd ever heard.

That was another lie. I love you had claimed that coveted prize.

Delicate fingers traced a line down his back. "Just wait a little longer."

How could he refuse?

"I'm not squashing you?" he asked just to distract his mind from a host of chaotic thoughts.

"No." She gave a low chuckle. "I like it. I like feeling close to you."

They stayed like that until a certain part of his anatomy decided otherwise. When he did roll onto his side to pull her into his arms, he realised she was asleep.

The slow rise and fall of her chest against his, the enchanting sound as she exhaled softly, would stay with him always.

It occurred to him to ask her to stay. In what capacity, he did not know. He was not likely to propose marriage. And he gave a quiet snort to show the ridiculousness of that idea. But she deserved better than to be regarded as some gentleman's lover.

There seemed to be no answer to the problem.

Had he been thinking selfishly, with his cock as opposed to his heart, he would persuade her to stay. But he could not become another Henry Denton. He would not make promises he could not keep.

What if all he felt was a more complex version of lust?

When it wore off, how would he feel about her then?

While she ignored his monstrous affliction, would the endless restrictions grate on her?

Would she grow to resent him?

Question after question bombarded his mind until it hurt to think. Gazing longingly at the woman in his arms, he kissed her tenderly on the forehead and the mouth. The selfish act being the only way to soothe him.

As soon as his lips touched hers, she kissed him back in the same gentle manner.

"I didn't mean to wake you," came yet another lie.

"I didn't mean to fall asleep." She yawned and arched her back as she stretched, her full breasts pushing against him. "I've not slept since I left you last night."

A deep sense of anguish drifted over him, and he knew he should broach the subject of Caroline and Cobham. "Has your sister said what she intends to do?"