“I want this, I really do.”
“I want this, alright? I mean… I thought you’d… maybe…”
Do you really think… that there’s a future… beyond this?
But she couldn’t ask Vaughn that question.
Don’t take this away. Don’t take this away from the both of us.
They watched each other silently, utterly still save for their ragged breathing. Every silent second that passed by, the tension grew between them, as did that unbearable heat and an indescribable, incomparable need.
The sound of Vaughn’s rising breaths made her bones feel light, something warm had slipped into her ribcage and Estelle wanted to laugh – a dizzy kind of joy that it was. Her heart began to beat uncomfortably hard, something sinful fluttering within her; she could not help but release an audible gasp as his skin made contact with her own.
She had not felt so desperate for another person’s touch in her life. She hated him. Hated what he had done, but…. but it was as if she could not go on breathing if he did not kiss her. As if she would die if he didn’t hold her…
She felt too weak to fight it.
Estelle fought the urge to cry out as his lips took hers. All she felt in that moment, all she had battled tirelessly against him for months, was a longing for him so acute that when he finally touched her she was fit to burst, to blaze, to run away and yet hold him impossibly closer.
She knew it was wrong, that it went against everything she’d ever swore she’d never do; she knew that tomorrow she would despise herself, despise him, but his kisses, all liquid fire and sinful promise, drew every shred of doubt and fear from her blood. She had to know him again.
She had to live just once more…
But she couldn’t say it.
It hurt to breathe as she thought about it, saying it was simply impossible.
Tomorrow I will run. I will run and never come back.
Vaughn did not kiss her gently. Tonight there was no time for gentleness. Or hesitation. Tonight he understood was the only chance they’d ever have. She’d admitted everything to him. This chance was one he must take – now.
… or else face regret every damned day of his life.
It happened fast; her fingers sliding into his hair, his hand at her breast, her unrestrained gasp of pleasure. He drank in her sighs as he began to gather up the white fabric up and over her thighs. He wanted to see her in the shadowed moonlight…
Anybody but him.
He had no choice but to let her.
Then the prim, proper governess who had berated him and slapped him for his desires reached for the strings that tied her nightgown together, fingertips shaking as she loosed them, one by torturous one.
The silk slithered over her skin in the most hypnotic dance he had ever witnessed.
Silent. Bared to him.
A vision in the candlelight.
All of her.
He went to her, pulling her against him none too gently. His lips claimed hers hungrily, deeply, hands at her hips, her waist, her soft skin wielding to his touch. She was so warm, so smooth, he felt he might go mad if he had to let her go.
Her breath was short and fast but Vaughn could think a bit clearer and a few things occurred to him: the first, that this was Estelle, and being with her – knowing it was her – was better than he could have imagined, to this, Marielle Harrington couldn’t even compare; but the second thought was vastly more real and devastating and it was that this might never happen again.
Vaughn pushed that sliver of fear into the darkest corner of his mind and focused on Estelle’s body, kissing her back and shoulders. He wanted Estelle to enjoy this… he wanted – if possible – to erase from her fraught nerves whatever it was that the solicitor had told her.
He made it last. He drew every touch, every cry, every sensation as far as it could go, and stayed with her, all the while desperate to take her, to make her his. Estelle shuddered with every touch, as if she were torn between pleasure and something else that might have been pain, or nerves peeled rawly.
The noises she made, shocked, aroused, breathlessly carnal, would haunt him for years, he was certain.
He relished every gasp, every moan, and delicately sinful sound he could draw from her. When his mouth close around her breast, she arched into him, into the evidence of his desire, and breathed his name.
It was his undoing.
This time, however, he did not intend to leave her side.
He moved above her.
Estelle cried out at the suddenness of it. A thousand sensations speared through every nerve ending in her body. She gasped for breath, the feeling of the uncomfortable pressure shocked, stunned her.
Vaughn’s voice was rough, deep. The sound of it, thick with desire, made Estelle’s belly tighten. His eyes were darker, more animal than she had ever seen them.
—as he stirred to life above her, inside her, and the tender sting melted away.
She clutched his shoulders as undeniable pleasure bloomed. The pressure inside grew warmer, heavier, deeper, more feverish, more desperate, more… incomprehensible. He held her hard as he took her over and over until she began to learn the dance, began to rise and fall with it, shaping her body to his.
They crashed through the burning, blinding zenith together bodies entwined every nerve-ending aflame, mouths searching, seeking, struggling for breath.
Two souls meeting in a storm.
A/N: Sooo… er… What do you think?
I know it’s not very long, but since this story is all desire and longing I felt like I had to do a proper love scene at some point.