Rare and Precious Things (The Blackstone Affair 4)

The expression on his face right now was different though, as he carried me along. I wondered what was going on in that head of his behind the carved handsome face. The man behind the mask. My man. My husband.

I wasn’t concerned though, because I knew he would tell me exactly what that was. Ethan usually had no trouble telling me what was on his mind. Part of his special charm. I had to smile at the thought of some of the crazy things he’d said to me since I’d known him.

“What’s that sexy smile about?” he asked without barely a hint of labored breath despite hauling me all the way up one impressively carved oaken staircase. The inside of this house was gorgeous and I couldn’t wait to see more of it, but had a feeling I wouldn’t be seeing much beyond our bedroom for the foreseeable future.

“I was thinking about your special brand of charm, Mr. Blackstone.”

He cocked a brow and gave me a wicked grin. “Does my charm have anything to do with you and me naked on our wedding night, Mrs. Blackstone, because I’m dyin’ for you here.”

I laughed at his veiled complaint about the recent lack of sex. I was dying for him too, but figured this had been a good test for us. Regardless, the anticipation of the moment was so much more intense because we’d taken the sex break before the wedding. I planned on making it up to him very soon. “Of course, naked and wedding nights go hand in hand I’m pretty sure.”

“Anything else grinding around with the cogs, my beauty?”

“Oh nothing much besides remembering how my beautiful husband looked standing at the end of the aisle waiting for me to walk down to him,” I paused, “and how I’m going to reward him for being so patient with me for the last two weeks.”

He sucked in a quick breath and took faster steps.

I brought my hand up to his cheek, feeling the stubble of his beard, remembering how I’d told him under no uncertain terms was he to be clean shaven at the wedding. I loved his scratchy whiskers abrading my skin when he kissed me and dragged his lips over my body. It was, again, one of the many parts that made up my Ethan. I loved him as I’d known him from the very first, and wanted him just that same way when we said our vows.

He’d listened to me apparently.

When we reached the top of the stairs, he took us left, down a long hallway. At the end of that was a room. Our wedding night suite, I assumed.

“We have arrived, my lady.” He muttered the rest. “Thank fucking hell.”

I stifled another laugh.

Ethan carefully set me back onto my feet but he kept his body close, his hand brushing up and down my upper arm. Always touching me. He needed to do it, and for me, his constant contact was something that helped me to flourish. I’m sure it was one of the reasons we connected so explosively from the first. He did those things I needed in order to awaken the part of me that was so very broken down. But now? I didn’t feel broken defined me anymore as a woman. And I had Ethan alone to thank for that.

“Yes, I see. It’s very beautiful here.” I skimmed the room, taking in what looked to be at least fifty white candles flickering in glass containers of all shapes and sizes, their warm glow reflecting over the walls and furniture, making everything look a little otherworldly. Or, as if we had just slipped back into a time and place that existed many long years ago. As I took in the surroundings, I felt like I could be walking into another century, especially wearing my long formal dress. “I still can’t believe you bought this house, though,” I said, glancing back. “I love it so much, Ethan.”

I couldn’t help wondering about the people who had lived here before us either, and what they might have done in this beautiful room, in times past. Had there been other wedding nights like the one Ethan and I were about to have?

I took in the size of the bed situated right in the middle, intimidating every other piece of furniture in the room. A massive carved four-poster with white linens and gauzy drapes shifting ever so gently in the summer breeze floating in from the open window. The oak glowed with the fine craftsmanship of artisans from a lost era.

“Believe it…and I love you so much.”

Ethan’s deep voice behind me broke the quiet stillness.

I stood still and waited.

My veil was lifted off my neck, and then the sweep of my hair was brushed aside. Then I felt his soft lips touch my nape firmly, as if to brand me. I felt his warm tongue roll over the spot in a swirl, rendering me breathless and shivering with wanting all in a second. Ethan barely had to touch me and still I was reduced to a wanton creature desperate for his touch. But he was well aware of that about me.

“You didn’t have to buy it though,” I whispered. “Just you, Ethan. You’re all I really want or need.”

He stilled and then spoke softly. “And that…is why you are the only girl for me.” He kissed soft sweeps up the side of my neck. “You don’t care about all the other trappings. You just see me, I knew that about you from the very beginning.”

He turned me and held my face in his big hands, thumbs brushing back and forth, blue eyes searing me with intensity. “I need you like I need air to breathe. You are my air, Brynne.”

And then his mouth engulfed mine, deep plunging swirls of his tongue took me over as he struck his claim. I felt my lower body pool with instant heat, desire and craving sparking to furious life. Ethan showed me how much he did indeed need me.

My hands dove into his hair and gripped it in handfuls, edging the passion up a notch. I heard myself moan as he swallowed me up with even deeper kisses that had me literally shaking with desire. I knew I had to slow things down before it became impossible to stop.

My hands left his hair and found their way to his chest where I barely managed, with Herculean effort, to press him back enough to break our kiss. It was not easy, neither physically nor emotionally. I wanted nothing more than to be wrapped up in him all night long, but I also had a plan and I intended to see it through.

We both stood there panting, our faces so close, but yet, not touching; him in his tux with the purple brocade vest, me in my vintage-inspired lace wedding dress, the sexual tension crackling in the air between us like a raging electrical storm about to go nuclear.

I told Ethan what I wanted.