Sweet Torture (Fated for Love) (25 page)

Their bodies slid against each other tauntingly as Lydia rearranged herself to lean back against his chest, her legs tangling with his. She closed her eyes tightly against
the sensations of his skin against hers, her need for him surpassing anything she had felt before. She didn’t have the will to deny him her body, not this time.

“This is really unfair
,” She muttered in agitation.

“Pardon?”

She could feel his chest rumble with laughter against her back. “You are taking advantage of me and my desire for you. You’ve ambushed me in my room and made it impossible to resist you.”

“I certainly hope so
,” he said as he reached over the side of the tub to pick something up and brought it in front of her, caging her in his arms.

Her breathing hitched when she saw the small box, her pulse kicking up rapidly
, and her head swimming with the implications.

Devon placed the box in her limp hand and curled her fingers around it. “Open it.”

“I don’t think I can,” she admitted.

Devon chuckled some more. “Take a deep breath
, and open the box. We’ve both waited much to long for this moment.”

Fingers shaking, she shook off the excess water and opened the box. Nestled against a bed of white satin sat a ring. A large rectangular emerald surrounded by tiny chip diamonds winked at her in the candle light. Devon took the box from her
, held her still shaking left hand, and slid the ring onto her finger.

“No more talking of the past, we can now look forward t
o our future. For the rest of our days, nothing will stand between us. We will share a home, a family, a heart. Will you consent to be my wife?”

Lydia stared at the bright emerald, a match to the color of Devon’s eyes. “Yes,” she whispered. She turned back to look at him and he caught her mouth in a kiss. Her body slithered against his as
she turned to face him, stretching out against him. There were so many things she wanted to say, but mere words seemed insignificant to express all that she was feeling.

Devon smiled against her lips. “I don’t believe I heard you. Was that a yes?”

“Yes.” Lydia smiled in return.

“Come again?” He tilted his head in question.

“I said yes, you impudent rogue.” She licked his bottom lip.

He shook his head. “It must be my ears, or perhaps my advanced age
, but I still did—.”

“Yes!” She cried and pulled his head to hers. She was smiling as she kissed him, her heart and body so full of love and joy it felt
as if it were bursting from her. “Now make love to me.”

“That I heard
,” he growled as he ran his hands over her smooth skin greedily. For a while, all that could be heard was the sloshing of bath water mixed with gasps and moans.

They broke apart for air and found that they had splashed quite a bit of water onto the floor. “I think it’s time to vacate the tub.” Devon surmised.

“I agree. My hands are wrinkling, and the water is getting cold.”

Lydia slipped out first followed by Devon. They buffed each other dry and then climbed to the bed.

“Would you like a glass of Champagne?” Devon gestured to the bottle and glasses on her nightstand.

“All I want is you
, Devon. I haven’t had nearly enough to begin thinking about anything else.

Devon groaned. “That’s my girl.

They both leaned in again, each kiss as necessary as their next breath, and they let desire lead the way. Hands met warm skin and explored, tongues dueled endlessly, and words replaced by moans and sighs.

Devon laid Lydia back on the bed and trailed hot kisses from her neck to her naval. His fingers made lazy circles on her thighs inching their way to her nest of curls. She wiggle
d anxiously as he tortured her slowly and deliberately. Sighing in satisfaction as he reached his destination, she opened her legs in invitation. He played with her soft flesh, teasing, and stroking. He entered her, first one finger, and then two, and mimicked the rhythm with which he would soon plunder her body. She arched her body, hungry and aching for the thing only he could give her. It had been so long, and she wanted him so much that she couldn’t bear to wait anymore.

“Devon
, please!” She begged him.

“Hush
, Lydia, we have all night.”

“But I need you now
. I’ve waited too long already.”

“What do you want
, Lydia, tell me.” His voice was husky with his own need. It set fire to her blood.

“I want you inside me
, Devon. Now.”

He
took his hand from her and leaned over her. Bending one of her knees and pulling it up to her hip, he positioned himself at her entrance. Lydia reached up and brought her lips to his. She wanted to be as joined with him as physically possible, two hearts beating in unison, two bodies joined in pleasure.

He
thrust home as he took her mouth and absorbed her cry of shock. They had only made love once before, and that had been some time ago. She felt full of him, stretched, and claimed. He moved slowly, letting the slickness of her arousal sooth her flesh and ease his penetration. As he continued to move inside her, her passion built again, and she began to move with him. This was what she had wanted all along, a claiming, a burning desire, and a love that could not be denied. She wrapped her arms around him, both overjoyed and overwhelmed by the moment. He was now hers, and she was his.

He moved inside her like a constant force, pushing her to the precipice of climax. Molten heat spread through her body setting little fires in her skin until she was consumed by it. She screamed as she came
undone, her eyes closing tightly, and her nails digging into his skin. He followed her, groaning fiercely, and collapsing on her in a heap of sweaty maleness. It was perfect. She wrapped her arms around him, and floated back to earth with the sound of his breath in her ear and the feel of his beating heart against her chest. He moved to her side, his fingers tangling with hers, and they just looked at each other and smiled.

“Never leave my side again
,” he said as he finally regained his breath.

“You’ll have to kill me first.”

“When should we marry?”

“Yesterday
, preferably.” She stretched languidly.

“If I could make it so I would
, minx.” He tickled her hip.

Lydia giggled happily. Nothing could tarnish this moment. She stared at him and burned the image of him sweaty and rakishly disheveled into her mind. She moved to turn on her side to face him, but as she twisted her
hips, a stabbing pain burned through her abdomen.

“Owe!” She cried out. She put a hand to her lower stomach.

“What’s wrong?” Devon asked anxiously.

Lydia panicked. The pain was ebbing but she was afraid to move. “I don’t know ah… could you please go get my mother and give us a moment of privacy?”

Now Devon looked worried. “You want me to fetch your mother?
What is wrong? Where does it hurt?”

Lydia tensed as he reached for her stomach. This was not the way she had planned to tell him
, she knew she had taken a huge risk in not telling him, and now the whole magic of the evening would be ruined. And what if something were wrong with the baby? Her skin turned to ice at the mere thought.

“Devon
, do you love me?”

“Of course
, Lydia, I love you more than anything.”

“And I love you
, Devon. Everything I have done in coming out here has been out of pure love. Now please, fetch my mother.”

His eyes had softened until she had reached the end of her sentence
, and then a worried frown knotted his brow. He nodded, threw on his robe, and did as she said.

Lydia pulled one end of the sheet over her naked body. She did not care how obvious it was that they had been making love
. All she cared about was whether she had inadvertently hurt the baby. Her precious fragile baby. It was a little piece of Devon she had carried around while her heart ached for him. If he had never returned, or scorned her and deserted her, she would have gone on with her life and loved him through their child. It was the root of her strength through the hardest months of her life.

Her mother entered frantically. She closed the door behind her
, and Devon had not followed her into the room.

“What’s wrong, are you cramping? Bleeding?”
She came immediately to Lydia’s side and took her hand.

“I simply tried to roll onto my side and pain shot through me. What is it? Do you think the baby
is harmed?”

“I don’t know
, dearest. We shall fetch a doctor at once, and he will examine you.” Her mother patted her hand, and returned to the hall.

From that point on
, Lydia stared at the canopy and prayed. Her mother flitted in and out in a whir of anxious motion. Ann, Lady Ellsley, brought her a cup of tea, but Lydia was too worried to drink it and too afraid to move. It felt like an eternity had passed before the doctor arrived, assisted by his wife who was also the village midwife.

He had her move onto her back. She experienced no pain, and then he examined her. Margie, the midwife, held her hand through the ordeal and patted it reassuringly.
Lydia had blushed her way through the discomfort and mortification of having complete strangers see her unclothed. Once finished, he spoke with her mother and then turned to her.

“I see no evidence of bleeding
, but these things tend to be fragile. I recommend strict rest an…” He looked around the room, “from all strenuous activities. Only time will tell if it is only a strained ligament or the beginnings of a loss.”

Lydia closed her eyes. Tears sprang forth and she fought them. She hated to hear that word, to hear even the suggestion of it. It was her greatest fear
, and now all she could think about was that it would be her fault.

“There
, there, dear.” Margie squeezed her hand. “There is a lot of growing and stretching happening in your body. Some of it can be quite uncomfortable. I myself had three hearty boys, and at times, I as if I were going to burst at the seams. Like the good doctor said, there is no blood, so give it time, and you will see that all will be fine.”

Lydia nodded her thanks and rolled over under the sheet. She desperately wanted to believe the kind woman’s words.
Her mother escorted the doctor and his wife out and then returned to her side. “Devon is waiting to speak with you. He is quite distraught.” Her mother picked up her hand and examined her betrothal ring. “I take it the two of you have made amends?”

“
Yes, but now I will have to tell him that I lied to him, and I kept our baby from him and now might be—.” She couldn’t finish. It was too painful to say the words aloud.

Her mother patted her shoulder and stood. “I’ll send him in. He has a good strong heart
. He may be angry, but in the end, you will bless him with a child. He can’t stay mad about that.”

Lydia vehemently hoped so.

Devon strode in and closed the door. He was visibly seething with anger. He had changed into clothing and paced the room like a caged animal.

“I didn’t want it to be like this. I never
intended for you to find out so abruptly and indelicately.”

“When were you going to tell me you are
carrying my child?” he shouted.

“When you agreed to marry me for no other reason
, but because you loved me.”

“And if I didn’t chose to marry you?”

“Then I would have gone, and lived the rest of my life raising our child alone with the support of my mother.”

“She knows?!”

“Of course she knows. Your parents know, as well. That was the only reason they would let me come and reconcile with you.”

“Jesus bloody Christ! Everyone knows about our baby
, but me?” He was livid.

“No, Oliv
ia and Colton do not know, although your shouting may have changed that.”

“Bloody
—.”

The rest of his tirade Lydia couldn’t understand so she just waited. She had never seen him so angry and at a loss for what to do. She knew keeping the baby a secret was a gamble
, but she didn’t regret it. Yet. After all they had overcome, she prayed it wouldn’t be the one thing that ripped them apart forever.

He was silent now as he turned back to her and just stared.
“How far along?” he said quietly.

“Coming upon fourteen weeks
,” she replied.”

He came forward slowly. “I want to see.”

Lydia frowned. “You can’t see the baby Devon, it’s inside me.”

“No,”
he rubbed his face in aggravation. “Show me your stomach.”