Lord Will & Her Grace by Sophia Nash

in one powerful motion. And then
she was lost again in a sea of the most potent longing she had ever
known.
    Sophie tried to stop the trembling of her
body but could not. She was unable to resist the sensations he
released each time he was alone with her.
    "Stop me," he whispered. "For God's sake,
Sophie, stop me."
    She shivered. There was such intensity in his
command. But his poignant expression begged for just the
opposite.
    She shook her head slowly.
    She would give of herself to him because of
the intense need she read in his gaze. And so she overcame her
shyness and did not resist her innate desire to soothe those who
suffered. She had never seen such a raw ache as she glimpsed deep
in the loneliness of his soul.
    What had happened to him? What had put that
pain and piercing cynicism in his true spirit, the one beyond the
jaded aristocratic façade? Sophie responded to his anguish the only
way she knew, by offering comfort and love.
    Again, he passed his hand over the low bodice
of her gown, this time easing the corner buttons from the hollows
of her shoulders. The front flap of the gown opened and he brushed
away the chemise. Sophie watched as he took the rosy tip of her
breast between his full lips.
    Oh, his mouth was so warm, and wet, and he
was making a pulling sensation and doing something with his tongue
and teeth that made her want to faint.
    His dark hair slipped through her fingers as
her head dropped back in mute acquiescence. He kissed and caressed
her breasts in ways too sinful to contemplate. All the while, the
coarseness of his whiskers teased her sensitive skin.
    Sitting in his lap, she slowly became
conscious of a thickness jutting from him. With deep embarrassment,
she sensed dampness and an ache between her limbs. What was
happening to her?
    When she dared to reopen her eyes, it had
become so dark in the room. All but one candle had guttered on the
wall sconce beside her.
    He abruptly lifted his lips and gently blew
on the tip of her breast, sending tingling sensations throughout
her body. His hands caressed her as gently as newly unfurled
butterfly's wings.
    He raised his eyes to hers and looked at her
for a long moment, appearing starkly coherent, and deadly serious.
A searing tension filled the air between them, pulling her
inexorably closer to him.
    She could not look away. She stared back at
him, drinking in the sight of his impossibly handsome and
mysterious face.
    He looked as if he was about to say
something, but at the last minute, he said nothing at all. Instead
he continued to stare at her while he began a more intimate
exploration of her body.
    Sophie felt the large warm imprint of one of
his large calloused hands on her ankle. He was gathering the fabric
of her gown in bunches to her lap. His hand touched the underside
of her knee, then her thigh, raising gooseflesh along the way.
    She felt her grip on the reality of the
moment loosen as he lightly, oh so lightly, caressed the top of her
thigh and lowered his lips to her own, finally, once again.
    Sophie was lost.

Chapter Seven
     
     
    WILLIAM was lost. Perhaps he could have
stopped himself if he had not looked at her wide gray-green eyes
every few moments. He felt drunk, looking at the depths of feelings
he found reflected there.
    He knew without a doubt they were sharing a
moment out of time. A moment they would never forget the rest of
their lives—when they had both let down the last of their defenses
to find an equally shared joy in their passion for one another.
This was not an encounter sexual in nature. It was entirely more
intimate and unnerving.
    He had come home. She was his home, now and
forever more. The one he had lost as a young boy—for home was not a
place, but a feeling.
    He pushed aside the thin white shift fabric
with his palm to caress her inner thigh one last time. Then he
gently, tenderly slid his hand forward to the place that was sure
to drive them both to madness.
    She made the smallest sound in her throat