A Kiss at Midnight

Chapter Nineteen

The dark curtain of night was drawn back. To reveal a stage of cerulean blue as musicians in feathered jackets of brown and speckled shirts took their seats on branches. Shrills and warbles, the dawn's serenade. Interrupted at times by a displeased crow circling above the evergreen shield that surrounded Barrymore's estate. Many an encore later, the birds fell silent. Throats needed to rest for a repeat performance the following morning.

While inside, water cascaded down one side of a tub of bronze, swirling along the bottom. Steam rising to peer into a looking glass. Ilona stood next to the bath, one hand rubbing at the back of her neck. Footsteps. Her skin prickling as she felt Carrick's presence at her backside. Fingers moulding themselves to the arch of her shoulders while his other hand slid to encircle her waist.

"Good morning, Ilona," Carrick said, his lips seeking her cheek. A warm feeling slid into her belly at the sound of her name uttered on his lips.
The corners of her lips tugged upwards as she leaned into his touch, craving it. "Good morning to you too."

"Running a bath I see. I suppose you have rang for Jessica then?" His gaze flickering to the golden tassel acting as a bell pull which was within arm's reach.

Ilona let out a snort. "No as I am perfectly capable of bathing myself, Carrick."

"Oh really?" His lips a mere breath away from the shell of her ear. "Do you not require someone to assist you?"

The hand on her waist slid down. His fingers slowly wandering along the pathway of her thigh. The fabric of her nightgown yielding to his exploration.

"To wash every last sud from your body," Carrick murmured, a gravelly note entering his voice. He gave her earlobe a gentle nip causing her breath to catch.
Ilona turned to face him.
Any air in her lungs he seem to have taken possession of.
Her heart aflutter and all it took one look at his eyes, an intensity burning to consume her.

"You want me."Her voice a soft melody. Her fingertips grazing his jawline.

"Yes, I do."

A slight nod. Her gaze never straying from his. "You want to fuck me like a wolf."

A rough sound left Carrick's mouth at her words.
To have Ilona kneel before him.
To leave no area of her soft, supple skin unclaimed by his touch. His kisses.
To trail his hands along her bottom in slowest of caresses.
Ilona bending forwards, displaying her offering to him...
However, he eschewed such a thought. In time, yes but today, it was all about Ilona. His hands to again encircle her waist, her nightgown bunching beneath his grip. His lips seeking yet not quite claiming her own.

"I wish to show you pleasure, Ilona and I believe you wish for the same but I cannot act without your consent. Nods or shakes of your head are not suffice, I have to hear the words leave your lips. And not just your permission but also your refusal. If you say 'stop' or 'no' then I will cease immediately for I have no intention of hurting you. Nor being one of those men who derive pleasure while having a woman just lay there."

Carrick's mouth became a hard slash across his face as he pulled his head back. It was no secret that many of the marriages in high society operated in such a manner. The thought of care and affection never entering their minds.

I would never dare to touch Ilona with a callous hand.

"Your pleasure is as importance as my own if not more, so I will ask again, do you want this, Ilona?" Carrick asked, one hand tracing along the gentle curve of her jawline.

"Yes."

His fingers stilled beneath her chin. At her response, his thumb tilted her head up but Ilona need no guidance. She pressed her lips to his in a silent invitation he would be a fool to refuse. He gave her bottom lip a gentle tug to open, allowing him to taste a sweetness he craved without any denial.
He reached down, opening the buttons of her nightgown, exposing the column of her neck to his gaze. Drawing a finger down her neck in the slowest of caresses.