Whatever pearls of wisdom she had been about to say were cut off when Verne gave Olympe a very sceptical look. “My lady Silverton, I am sure my wife would be delighted to invite you to tea when you are back from your honeymoon.” Then he looked at the viscount. “I hope you will send your man to me with any pressing concerns or matters unsuited to a wedding trip.”
“But the wedding breakfast—” Maeve said. Although she was not even certain Silverton had arranged such a thing.
“Send us a piece of cake.” Olympe now seemed to have read her husband’s look and was giving Maeve a rather cheeky smile as she settled back amongst the carriage’s pillows and waved the bride and groom off.
Before Maeve could say anything further, her hand-clasped wrist was lifted, and Silverton was helping her out of the carriage. The gig bundled off to transport the Vernes home.
“Come.” Silverton pulled Maeve back into the house, the butler opening the door and nodding at the pair of them.
“Congratulations on your wedding day,” Danes said. The happiness of his salutation did not reach his eyes.
“Please ensure the staff has a glass of wine this evening to celebrate,” Silverton said.
“Thank you, my lord. A small luncheon has been arranged as you requested.”
Silverton pulled Maeve onwards the along the corridor towards the dining room. Why he had such a desire to see the food, Maeve could only speculate.
Once inside the great dining room, Maeve had assumed she would feel disappointed by the lack of traditions or guests. But she wasn’t. She caught herself watching her new husband’s movements, obsessed by following his stride around the room as he viewed the wedding breakfast.
“Are you hungry?” he asked. She was not certain whether he was referring to the delicious-looking food on the table or to something else entirely—the unspoken fire that burnt between them.
“I—” Maeve’s tongue darted out to wet her lips as she tried to work out what to say. “Did you cut your beard for me?”
The automatic expression of annoyance crossed Silverton’s face, and he immediately said, “No, of course not.”
It was so abrupt that Maeve couldn’t help but laugh. “Then why?”
“It was the correct thing to do.”
“And you have always followed convention?”
Unable to stop himself, Silverton rolled his eyes. It was there, the desire to smile, to laugh even, Maeve was certain. She moved closer to where Silverton was standing and reached out to his arm, touching his shoulder lightly. “I won’t tell.”
“What?”
“If you laugh.” It was a mistake touching him, she realised. The feel of his suit was fine and brought back the tension she had been striving to ignore. Lifting her eyes, she met his look, her nerves redoubling. It was all very well, him shaving off the outer layer of beastly hair, but the reality was he was still the same hard, inscrutable man he had been before. He just looked more polished and seductive now.
“Damn it,” he swore, and closed the distance, his mouth latching onto hers and chasing away whatever wayward thoughts Maeve had been battling against. His lips were fierce and demanding, and his hands came around her, pulling her body flush against his until he dragged her to the wall, with her pressing him into the wallpaper. It was shocking, thrilling to have him close, the relief coming from the heady rush of having his body against hers again. How was it possible to delight in the feel, the strength of him, and yet know he was keeping himself closed off from her?
Strong hands lifted her more firmly against his body until she was on a level with him. Both of their breaths were coming in thick, almost painful gasps.
“Wrap your legs around my waist,” Silverton muttered as he turned them both, and now it was Maeve who found herself shielded and held up against the wall whilst her husband pushed and lifted her skirts. She did as he told her and wrapped her thighs around his waist, pausing only when his hand slipped between the seam at the top of her bloomers to stroke through the curls at her core. His touch froze her in place whilst she wanted to scream out for release.
Unable to stop herself, Maeve gasped desperately. The sensation generated by his touch, his hand moving through her secret folds, the look on his face as he watched her, made her want to wriggle and scream, her body and mind inflamed. “Please.”
“I promised myself we’d do this—that we’d only do this at night, in the dark—”
“I don’t care.” Maeve wasn’t entirely sure what Silverton was talking about, or why he’d promised himself such a bizarre thing. Her mind was too caught up in the feel of his hand as it fondled her. The movement was as heated and as wild as she felt. When his hand stroked at her most sensitive point, it caused the tension within her body to tighten before two of his fingers slipped inside her. That was when she exploded, waves of pleasure crashing through her frame. That pressure seemed only to be created or cured by him.
“Please.” She knew what she was begging for as she looped her arms around his neck, holding herself more tightly against him. She did not know if it was even possible, standing as they were up against the wall.
But it seemed as if it was. Because when his fingers left her, they moved only to loosen his trousers, and then he was adjusting his manhood before he slid it into her sex in one easy movement. Any awkwardness she had felt the first time was gone, and now there was just this heady, glorious sense of fullness. Her eyes immediately jumped up to meet his intense gaze—and the look he gave her almost robbed Maeve of air.
Silverton hesitated for a moment, it seemed, and then Maeve kissed him deeply, urging him on. It was all the encouragement he needed because, when he drew back, it was to sink more deeply into her, driving into her with such passion that it made Maeve shudder. His movements rocked her against the wall with dazzling ferocity, the folds of her dress cushioning her as his increasingly strong and powerful thrusts penetrated her sex. Her limbs were tightened around his hips, her feet resting on his bottom. Unable to keep herself in check, the sheer delight she felt caused her to cry out loudly. The gasps of delight ripped from her throat for a second time. It was wild and glorious in a way she would never have imagined. She clung to his shoulders as she felt her body start to move and spasm in response to him. He was touching her in a way she’d never imagined, the delightful cries and body-shattering experience crashed through her as she felt herself trigger Silverton’s release too.
There was such a purity to the moment that Maeve wished there was a way for them to stay together like that, forever.
He leant up and kissed her forehead as he stilled inside her, the feel of him satisfying. Slowly, Silverton trailed gentle kisses over her face. When he leant back to look at her more fully, Maeve grinned. “It’s probably just as well we didn’t have a grand society wedding with a lot of people here, isn’t it?”
