Something Old by Rebecca Connolly (autobiographies to read txt) 📕

The message was clear enough. They needed to get out of this room the moment they had the chance.

“Lily,” he breathed, impressed that his words were not slurred and muddled. What he was going to say, he couldn’t recall, as her name was a prayer, a hymn, and a plea all at once. “Lily…”

“Yes,” she whispered breathlessly, her grip on him tightening.

Yes to what? Yes as an answer, yes as a question, yes as permission, yes as a wish…

Would this dance never end?

Moments later, it did, and they lowered their hands slowly, still holding one another by the waist, breathing unsteadily. Lily took in a soft breath and released it slowly, shivering with it, tilting her head to one side in inquiry even as her dark eyes drew him in as though by a spell.

He nodded once and slid his hand from her waist only to take the hand dangling helplessly by her side. Her grip was sure and clenching, settling his mind once and for all.

Turning, he tugged her from the floor, though it required no effort to do so. They passed other guests, none of whom merited notice, and only when he caught sight of Trembath by their exit did he slow.

Trembath raised a brow, his mouth curving to one side, his eyes too knowing. “Something amiss?”

“We must leave,” Thomas told him without preamble. “Apologies. No disrespect intended.”

“None taken,” he replied. He flicked his eyes to Lily, smiling further still before returning his attention to Thomas. “You’ll miss supper. Won’t you have a morsel to eat before you go?”

“We have food at home,” Thomas insisted, Lily’s hold on his hand tightening further, which he took as encouragement. “Thank you.”

Trembath seemed to scoff a laugh, then nodded and stepped aside. “Then I bid you goodnight, Mr. Granger. Mrs. Granger.”

Thomas bowed, Lily curtseyed, and they were off, brushing past Trembath without another word or thought, making haste as though their lives depended on it, which, in all truth, it might.

Somehow, they managed to collect their things and load into the coach without a notable pause, and, for the first time, Thomas sat beside his wife on the journey. They said nothing still, the air between them thick with some force that robbed him of breath and dragged his stomach somewhere along the level of his ankles.

A soft whisper of notice lit his ears as though it were a gunshot, and then he felt a tugging at the material covering his fingers. It occurred to him to tear the fabric off entirely, but something prompted him to wait, to hold, to let the task continue.

His eyes nearly crossed when the glove upon his hand slid off entirely, his skin exposed to the air and tingling in anticipation of it. His throat closed when his wife’s equally gloveless hand slid against his, their fingers locking as though designed to do so. He couldn’t bear the burning, fully consuming him and pulsing through every fiber of his being. Couldn’t see. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe.

Lily sighed beside him, and he was done for.

He turned in his seat toward her, his free hand going to her face and drawing her to him, his lips taking hers in a mad frenzy he had never experienced in his life. She locked her hand behind his neck, pressing with an urgency that ripped a growl from his throat. Her lips were generous and sweet, taking his with equal energy, taking in all he offered and sparing him nothing. Their joined hands rubbed against each other, caught between their bodies and lighting new fires that blazed brightly as the addictive friction went on and on.

Thomas broke from her lips, tracing his lips and teeth along her jaw, moving to her throat as he layered attentions upon her, mad for every inch of skin and every taste of her. She curled her fingers into his hair, gripping the locks as though clinging for dear life. Her gasps and sighs drove him, fueled him, as he moved to the other side, cradling her face in his hand. She nuzzled against him, her lips grazing his skin, directing him back to her lips without a word, needing none to make her wishes known.

He was only too happy to oblige, returning to her mouth without delay, exhilaration seeping into him as the taste of her found his tongue. She was sweet beyond reckoning, as though he had never tasted her before, yet he had kissed her dozens of times in recent days. Would each kiss be new as the day, a brilliant showering of sunlight and spring and all the comfort of honey? How could he bear such a thing?

The carriage pulled to a stop, and they paused, lips touching, breath mingling, waiting for something…

Thomas pulled back, his eyes searching Lily’s in the dark, his heart settling but not slowing. Clarity began to creep in, and it brought nothing resembling sanity. Not tonight.

He leaned across her to open the carriage door and got out, his hold on her hand as firm as when she had first secured it. She followed without hesitation, and they wordlessly entered Pendrizzick at a quick step. He all but ran down the corridor toward the stairs, Lily’s pace beside him no less hasty.

They could not slow now, they could not wait and breathe. If they did so, she might… he might…

The stairs were there and they raced up them, she leading him now, though he needed no prodding. The corridor of bedrooms slipping by, one by one, until they reached their own.

Opposite sides. Opposite ways.

Thomas paused now, everything within him crying out for something he dared not express. He could not suggest it. Could not venture. Could not…

He turned to Lily, helpless to keep from kissing her again and finding her just as receptive now as she had been in the carriage, arching into his hold with an urgency that humbled him. There was no hesitation on her part, and he could only wonder at his own.

And