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He drew a nipple into his mouth and sucked, tongue swirling, and the sound that left her was raw. Her fingers dug deeper into his shoulders. He cupped both breasts in his large hands, and Marina arched her back slightly from the mattress at the touch. His thumb brushed over her sensitive bud, and the contrast between his mouth and fingers left her trembling.

She loved this. She loved being touched by him. And she wanted more. Her fingers tightened in his dark hair as she whispered his name again.

“Ambrose…”

She hoped, desperately, that he would not leave her aching and unfinished the way he had the last time. Perhaps he understood the thought written on her face. He grabbed both of her hands, locking them behind her arched back, and shoved her skirts up high. The moment he did, she felt cool air rush against the wetness between her thighs.

He did not hesitate. She watched, dazed, as his dark head disappeared underneath the waves of her gown. She heard the sharp rip of her drawers, and before she could brace herself, she felt him. His hot tongue slid over the dampness between her legs, and her body shook, and something far more than a moan rose from her throat.

He did not stop, his mouth remaining between her inner thighs. He sucked over the most sensitive part of her, teasing her with a hunger that stole every coherent thought from her mind, drawing half-moans, half-pleas from her lips.

She had never imagined a moment would come when she lost all sense of herself, when the only thing she wanted was for her body to be thoroughly explored by a man. But he was not just any man.

Ambrose Hunt had stirred her heart as no one ever had. She was not even certain where she stood in his life, and yet she needed him. Wanted him. Wanted all of him.

“Ambrose, please…” The words tore free from her, raw and desperate. “I… please, take me…”

Only then did he lift his head, locking his green gaze with hers. Without breaking their unblinking contact, he rose, and something in his expression said that he knew exactly what she wanted. He moved again, straightening over her body until he was close enough that she could smell herself on his mouth, could see the glistening traces of her wetness along his chin.

He kissed her once again. It was deep and thorough. She tasted her arousal on his tongue. And as he kissed her, she felt one large palm slide down past her waist, his fingers moving low beneath her stomach in maddening strokes.

“Ambrose…”

Marina spread her legs a fraction wider beneath him, giving him better access for something more. Hoping, praying, he would finally give her exactly what she ached for.

She wanted to feel him inside her, to rock against him, but before she could so much as demand any such movement, her eyes rolled back and her entire body erupted.

“Oh…Oh…My goodness,” she gasped as color exploded behind her eyes and heat surged through her as his finger circles over her secret pearl. He inserted one of his fingers inside her and hadn’t even slipped it fully in, when she could hold on no more. She clenched around him, rocking against his hand as the waves of her orgasm washed over her.

Ambrose leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.

“I would have given myself to you,” she said quietly, and he nodded.

“I know you would have, but I am glad you did not. Remember what we talked about. I cannot have a child I cannot risk it.”

He stood then and put his clothing back on.

She didn’t know what to say. She had such longing for him, such a desire to be with him, but at the same time, she could not fault him for telling her the truth.

“We should return. I… I want to apologize for my behavior.”

“Do not, I wanted it as much as you. More perhaps.”

He smiled but there was sadness in it. “I cannot imagine that is true. I shall wait outside.”

He departed then and went out of the cabin, allowing her to dress.

Marina remained frozen, staring at the closed door, heart hammering, body throbbing from the gift he had given her and her mind swirling from his sudden withdrawal. Why did he always have to treat her this way? Where exactly did she stand in his life? One moment she was convinced she was merely his wife in title, but then his actions would weaken that notion. Yet… he would not let himself go any further with her.

Allies… enemies… or just two people with shared misfortune? She could not know.

Twenty-Six

The day had the audacity to go on as though Marina’s heart had not been thoroughly bruised the night before.

The sun had risen as usual. The approach of the festive season made the servants even more eager in their work. They moved through the estate with ribbons, candles, and greenery, and somewhere downstairs, someone had already begun arguing over the placement of the biggest Christmas tree.

It was an unusual choice, she knew it. But she’d always adored the tradition started by her German grandmother Gerda, who had insisted that no Christmas was complete without a fir tree dressed in ribbons, apples, and gilded walnuts.