It's Always Been You (York Family 2)

Kate’s husky laugh sang through him. “You may try your best.”

“I will.”

Her hair gleamed dark in the lamplight, her skin glowed pale. She looked ethereal, ghostly. The thought sent a slow curl of discomfort turning in his gut. She was a ghost, but she’d somehow been sent back to him, nearly whole. He would not forget that.

When he trailed a finger along the edge of her jaw, she closed her eyes and smiled, as if she savored soft touch as much as he did. As he turned to hang his coat on a peg, Kate poured tea and added sugar. Silence grew between them, but it was nothing like the silence that always fell over him with other women. He had, after all, always chosen his lovers with the opposite of friendship in mind. Women who were as cold as they were hot. Women who cared nothing for his thoughts. But with Kate, it was as if he were a man at home. As if they’d told all their stories to each other and now needed nothing but silence.

There was no logic in that. They’d been strangers for ten years and lovers for only one night. But this ease between them was as real as it had ever been.

And yet she was another man’s wife.

He sipped the tea she handed him, trying to dislodge the terrible jealousy from his throat.

Kate set her hand to his chest. “I wanted to touch you tonight,” she whispered. “But I couldn’t.”

The heat of his jealousy was fanned by her admission, and Aidan lost any sense of ease. He set down the cup and framed her face in his hands so that he could kiss her. She opened for him as soon as his mouth touched hers, thank God. He was desperate for the taste of her, the sure knowledge that she was his. At this moment, she was his and no one else’s.

He deepened the kiss and her hands fisted into his waistcoat, as if she’d pull him tighter still. He understood. It did not matter how close they got, it wasn’t enough. It never had been.

“Come upstairs,” she urged, the words warm against his mouth. “Come to my bed.”

He need hear no more than that. Pulling away, he set his palm to her back and urged her toward the stairway, but she soon outpaced him and he found himself rushing to catch up.

He was not used to this new Kate yet, and Aidan was shocked when she simply reached for the fastenings of her dress as soon as she reached her bedroom. Fierce lust gripped him as he slipped off his jacket and loosened his cravat. She felt it too, this horrible, unending need to get closer, as if that could erase the distance of the past years.

He reached for the clasps at the back of her dress and as soon as it loosened she tugged it down. “My corset,” she urged, but he’d never planned to hesitate at all. His hands were already at the knots, tugging them free. Kate gasped as it finally opened, her ribs expanding against the chemise that stayed pressed to her body.

Her movements slowed as if the corset’s grip had made her panic, and now she was free to move with languid grace. She turned to him, meeting his eyes as she let down her hair. It tumbled around her shoulders, and his heart shook with the force of his pulse.

When her hands reached up to slide the straps of the shift from her shoulders, he sat down hard, thanking God that he actually hit the bed. She moved with such slow grace, inching the straps down and down till they finally caught at the crooks of her elbows, the shift barely clinging to her breasts.

Crossing her arms in a demure movement that tugged at his heart, she worked the shift farther. It dropped suddenly to catch at the curve of her hip.

Aidan sucked in a hard breath at the sight before him. Painful pleasure twisted inside his body, curling through his shaft until he was heavy and hard for her. She was a perfect picture, seductive and shy, her palms pressed to her breasts and her stomach smooth and white. He was almost thankful for her modesty. If she hadn’t covered her breasts, he definitely wouldn’t have noticed the curve of her waist that begged for the grip of his hands. He wouldn’t have even seen the adorable dip of her navel or the way her belly curved out just under it.

She shifted under his scrutiny and the thin fabric lost its hold, slithering to the floor. Aidan closed his eyes to savor the image that floated behind his lids. He just wanted a minute, one minute, to chisel it into his mind before it was gone forever. Those generous hips, soft and all his, the alabaster thighs, and that dark, dark triangle of curls, drawing his gaze and his soul.

He eased open his eyes to find her watching him through her lashes as if she were a student of coy seduction, but it was only shyness, he knew—she was still hiding behind her hands. That morning she hadn’t had time to anticipate, and neither had he.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, reaching for her elbows, drawing her to stand between his thighs. Reverently, unwilling to rush her, he kissed each of her knuckles, gently seducing her until her hands began to relax and fall away from her body.

“I know you’ve already seen me,” she whispered with a soft, nervous laugh. “And I guess I shouldn’t worry how I’ve changed. I hardly think you got so much as a peek when I was seventeen.”

“No,” he answered as he kissed a small circle around one areola. “Those times were a bit too hurried for this sort of . . . exploration. But I can assure you”—she whimpered as he traced his tongue around that circle—“that there’s never been another woman as beautiful as you.”

“That’s silly.” Her words were faint, shaky.

“No, it’s true.”

The last words she uttered before he sucked her nipple into his mouth were nearly inaudible, but he thought she said, “Thank you.” But words were superfluous now. By the time he laid her on the bed, all she offered were sighs and gasps.

Aidan discarded the rest of his clothing and joined her on the narrow mattress. It was too small for sleeping comfortably, but in that moment he was thrilled to be forced close. He lay on his side to face her, meeting her eyes as he touched her body. Her gaze grew solemn as he shaped her waist and hips, and before he could touch more of her, Kate twined her leg around his and pressed her hips to his.

Pleasure and need radiated outward from that spot, making his eyelids flutter as she dragged herself up. “Kate . . .” he murmured, but she slid higher until his cock notched itself to her opening.

“Please, Aidan,” she said. “Please just . . .”

What could he do but please her? He understood. It felt like years since he’d entered her this morning. Like the ghost of the years they’d spent apart.