The journey back to the manor was wrapped in a comfortable silence, one that thrummed with an unspoken awareness between them. The carriage rocked gently on the road, lantern light making pools of gold across the dark interior. Evelyn could feel Nathaniel's gaze like a warm touch along her cheek, even when she wasn't looking.
When they finally arrived at Wycliffe Manor, servants hurried to see to their cloaks, but Nathaniel dismissed them with a short gesture. Juliana disappeared with a sleepy farewell, and the house soon settled into its hushed, nighttime rhythm.
As Evelyn began to ascend the staircase toward her wing, she heard Nathaniel's steps behind her. She paused and glanced back, meeting his dark, intent gaze.
"Allow me," he murmured, voice pitched low.
That was all the permission she needed to let him follow her through the quiet halls, the sound of their steps muffled by the rich carpets. Cora had already prepared her chamber; the fire banked low, the curtains drawn and after a gentle knock, she slipped away into the servants' quarters.
When Evelyn crossed the threshold into her room, Nathaniel followed, pushing the door closed behind him with a muted click of the latch.
The firelight painted them in warm tones as they stood together in that small sanctuary. His dark eyes never left her face as he approached slowly, hands reaching up to unfasten his cravat, then his cuffs. The casual intimacy of it sent a thrill through her.
"You were radiant tonight," he said simply, voice husky with something deeper.
Her breath caught. "And you hardly took your eyes off me."
A faint smile tugged at his lips as he moved closer, his hands finding her waist. "I wouldn't dream of it."
The weight of his hands was steady, possessive, the kind that could undo her faster than any clever words.
He bent his head, lips brushing her brow before trailing down to her cheek and finally her mouth. The kiss was unhurried at first, almost reverent, and then it deepened as his hands slid up her back to draw her even closer.
By the time they broke apart, their breathing had grown heavier, the unspoken tension humming between them like a live wire.
"Let me," he whispered against her lips,not a question but a promise.
And Evelyn, heart racing and lips tingling with his kiss, simply nodded and let him lead her further into the sanctuary of her chamber, where the night and his hands would do all the talking.
The fire's glow danced across the walls, casting soft, golden light on them as they stood tangled together. Evelyn felt Nathaniel's hands slide up her back as he kissed her again, deeper this time, his breath hot and urgent against her lips.
But tonight, she remembered the whispered advice of the noblewomen earlier that evening, the coy smiles and knowing glances as they spoke of keeping a husband captivated. The memory emboldened her.
When Nathaniel began to ease her toward the bed, she stopped him with a gentle but firm hand on his chest. His brow lifted in surprise, lips parting to speak, but she silenced him with a slow kiss that sent a delicious shiver through him.
"Nathaniel," she breathed as her hands reached up to slide his coat slowly from his shoulders. It dropped soundlessly to the floor.
"My turn," she whispered.
He stilled, dark eyes gleaming in the firelight. "Your turn?"
"Yes." Her voice was low and sure.
He raised a brow, momentarily puzzled, but he didn't move to stop her. Her hands glided next to the buttons of his shirt, popping them one by one as she held his gaze. By the time she bared his chest to the firelight, she felt his breathing change, deep and deliberate.
"Tonight," she whispered as her palms flattened against him, feeling the heat of his skin, "let me take care of you."
His hands flexed at his sides. "Evelyn…" there was a warning in his voice or maybe a plea.
But she didn't wait. She rose on her toes and pressed a kiss to the hollow of his throat before her lips began their slow trail down his chest. Every kiss was deliberate. Every touch was soft yet confident as she guided him back toward the bed.
The moment he sat on its edge, she pushed him gently until he was leaning back, propped on his elbows. His eyes never left hers as she reached to undo the laces of his breeches and draw them away. The firelight kissed every plane of his body, and her hands followed suit tracing his shoulders, his chest, then lower, until his breath was a low, trembling sound in the quiet room.
She took his hands and guided him backward until the back of his knees met the chair. Without a word, he sat. The leather creaked softly beneath him as she stepped between his legs and began to unfasten his shirt one careful button at a time.
Her hands moved with purpose slow, deliberate and he followed their progress like a man entranced. When she finally eased the fabric aside, his breath caught at the feel of her fingers tracing the planes of his chest.
"You've had a long day," she murmured, leaning close enough that her lips brushed his ear. "Let me take care of you tonight."
His hands twitched as if to draw her closer, but she held him at bay with a teasing smile and a kiss pressed to his jaw.
He swallowed, voice a rich rasp. "And what is it you intend to do, my lady?"
"I intend," she whispered, sinking gracefully to her knees before him, "to please you until you can't think of anything but me."
That was all the warning he had before her hands moved lower, loosening his belt and freeing him from his breeches. His thick and long shaft stood erected and proud. Everlyn felt her cheeks heat up and her breath quickened. This piece of fat flesh has brought her countless peaks of pure pleasure.
The firelight glanced across his body, and he groaned low in his throat as she wrapped her hand around his shaft, her touch warm and deliberate.
He fought to keep his hands still, fists clenching and unclenching against the arms of the chair as her lips followed the path her hands had begun; hot, sensual kisses along his abdomen and then lower still.
Evelyn looked up at him through her lashes, lips parting as she licked the tip of his shaft with her tongue and finally took it into her mouth.
A rough sound broke from him, a sound of need and raw pleasure as his head fell back.
He grabbed her hair as her head move up and down, her mouth sucking and gurgling on his shaft. Her pace was measured, tantalizing, and every deep breath he took was laced with her scent. The fire roared in the hearth, mirroring the heat spreading through him as he surrendered to the sensation of her hands and lips.
When she felt him tense, hands tangled into her hair, careful but insistent and she rose, breathless and glowing with triumph.
"Evelyn," he managed, voice husky, hands trembling as they traced her cheek.
But she wasn't finished.
With deliberate slowness, she let her dress slide from her shoulders, pooling at her feet, until she stood before him wearing nothing but the pendant glinting against her skin.
Nathaniel's eyes darkened as he took in the sight of her, firelight gilding every curve, every softness.
"Come here," he commanded, voice ragged with desire.
And this time, she went to him climbing into his lap, hands braced against his broad shoulders as she lowered herself onto his hard shaft with a moan that was half pleasure, half relief.
He surged up into her, hands gripping her hips to guide her as she rocked against him, her body fitting him perfectly.
Their breaths tangled, their lips met again and again, and the world outside disappeared entirely.
The chair creaked under their shared rhythm, the fire crackled warmly in the hearth, and all that mattered was this moment, just the two of them, bodies intertwined, hearts racing together.
And as pleasure built like a tide between them, she kept her hands firmly on him, taking him deeper into her own desire, delighting in his every sound and the dark, burning look in his eyes that told her she held all of him at least for tonight.