“Good heavens.” She touched him, hard and heavy, as an answering blossom of heat opened deep within her.
He slid his arms round her waist and drew her more firmly against his body. “It’s been far too long since I’ve made love to you, wife.”
Victoria lost the ability to speak. Without the proper layers of clothing, boning, and petticoats between them, she could feel the strength and maleness of him in a way she never had before. His body molded to hers was a new and enticing experience that sent an exquisite ache to her core.
She liked it.
He lowered his mouth to hers, giving her a possessive kiss. She opened, playing her tongue against his. He tasted of spirits. Her hands settled on his shoulders, soaking in his potency. A spurt of restlessness kicked up within her stomach, longing settling lower along with a languorous throbbing.
The kiss deepened. He cupped her bottom through her thin wrapper, ensuring their bodies touched in all the right places.
“Finally,” he muttered, tearing his lips from hers. “I don’t have to wrestle with hectares of fabric.”
She laughed despite the heady mix of sensations setting her at sixes and sevens. “A gown with a train is in fashion.”
“To hell with fashion. Have you any idea how many silly trains I’ve trampled at balls?” He caught the ends of the tie at her waist and pulled. Her wrapper gaped, revealing nearly all of her breasts. One more tug and the ends completely fell apart. He ran hot palms over her shoulders, shucking the garment from her body entirely. “I prefer you naked.”
And naked she was. Victoria fought the urge to cover herself. She stood very still, watching from beneath lowered lashes as her husband’s warm gaze ran over her body. She waited, knowing she was no beauty, that she was in fact rather small and spindly without all her trappings. Keats was very adept at showing her to advantage, but now she had no such assistance. She was sure he must have seen lovelier women, perhaps even his Italian opera singer. The thought made her stiffen.
“Why the ferocious frown, my dear?” He traced her lips with a light touch, running his finger down her neck to her breasts. He circled her nipple in a lazy path that had the bud tightening and her body aching for more. “You are more beautiful than I recalled.”
He thought her beautiful? Her gaze snapped to his face, searching his expression for the slightest hint of insincerity. There was none. His eyes were direct, his expression frank and admiring. No man had ever paid her a compliment as kind in her life. True, there had been her fair share of effusive flattery by gentleman who looked at her and saw her father’s fat purse and not her true self. But this was somehow different. Was it the way he’d said it, or simply that hehadsaid it, that mattered so much?
A sudden surge of courage overtook her. She wanted to see him as well. She made short work of the knot at his waist. His dressing gown slid to the floor in a soft whisper of sound. He was breathtaking. The knot of desire building within her grew. He was lean yet muscled, his chest broad and defined. But what truly attracted her attention was not his taut stomach or the long, strong lines of his legs. No indeed, it was the rigid arousal jutting proudly from the apex of his thighs.
Good heavens.She nearly swallowed her tongue. She certainly hadn’t seenthaton their wedding night. Blushing furiously, she forced her gaze back up to his face. The grin on his sensual mouth was positively wicked. Perhaps she’d wandered into water that was well over her head. She felt very much as if she were drowning.
It seemed he sensed her sudden worry. He tipped her chin up. “Don’t fret, my dear. We shall go as slowly as you like.”
It wasn’t precisely the speed of their joining that concerned her, but rather the mechanics of it. Now she well understood the stab of pain she’d felt the last time. Would it hurt again?
“You’re worrying your lip.” He cupped her face in his large, capable hands and delivered a tender kiss to the lip in question. “You mustn’t think too much. Only feel.”
“Feeling is what lands me in trouble,” she couldn’t resist pointing out. She certainly felt too much for the debonair man standing nude before her.
He grinned down at her. “What is life without a spot of trouble now and again?”
Easy, she supposed, for him to say. He’d never had to move an ocean away from the world he knew only to be abandoned in a countryside with naught but a gaggle of servants for company. But holding on to resentment couldn’t be beneficial to the tentative truce she’d struck with her husband, and she knew it. Perhaps he was right after all. Maybe she should trust him.
Could she? Though it was balmy in her chamber from the warmth of the summer sun, she shivered.
“Cold?” He scooped her up into his arms in one effortless motion. “I can warm you.”
No one had ever carried her before either. Apparently, it was to be a night of many firsts. Victoria threw her arms about his neck to hold on to him as he crossed the chamber to her bed. She took the opportunity to study his handsome profile. His jaw was strong, stippled with the day’s growth of dark whiskers. Unlike many English gentlemen, he eschewed a beard and mustache. She found it enhanced the physical beauty of his face. Mesmerized, she lifted a hand to again feel the rough texture of his stubble against her palm. He turned slightly to press a kiss to her inner wrist. A jolt of pleasure shot through her.You mustn’t think too much, he had said.Only feel.
How freeing it would be to do so with him. To trust if she dared.
He laid her gently upon the bed before joining her, his long form stretched out alongside hers. Their bodies were intimately pressed together for their entire lengths. She was so petite that her feet only reached his calves. His arousal jutted against the nip of her waist. Victoria kept her gaze locked on his, almost afraid that if she looked away, she would become lost in the stormy seas of emotion attempting to carry her off.
He slid a possessive arm around her, anchoring her to him even more firmly. “I want you.” His mouth was close to hers, his breath warm and intoxicating. The low growl of his deep voice went directly to her core.
With a moan, she ended the distance between them by kissing him. She opened to his questing tongue, tasting him, wanting to devour him the way his kisses threatened to consume her. She threaded her arms around his neck, fingers sinking into his dark hair. He invaded her senses. She tasted him, smelled his scent, so deliciously male and his.
He threw a lean leg over her, pinning her to the bed. She was at his mercy now, and it sent a decadent sluice of desire over her suddenly heated skin. Every bit of her had come to life. Her nipples ached for his mouth and touch, her core for his driving possession inside her. If he wanted her, she wanted him more, with an intensity that drove her near to madness.
Their kisses ended. Will dragged his mouth down her throat. She tilted her head back against the pillow to allow him better access. The hot, moist pressure of his lips upon her sensitized skin was enough to have her squirming for more. He groaned as if he too felt the same undeniable pull, its wild thrill, sense of overwhelming pleasure. He kissed his way to her breasts, cupping the tingling mounds in his large hands before lowering his head to suck a throbbing nipple.
Victoria arched into him, incapable of stopping the moan that fled her lips. He tortured her flesh, alternately sucking and rolling his tongue over and around the engorged bud. While he plied an equal seduction on the other breast, his fingers skipped down over her belly and dipped into the wet slit of her sex. He teased the oversensitive nub hidden within her folds, and she jerked into his knowing hand. He continued on, sucking and rubbing her, sucking and rubbing, until her body was working against him in a primitive rhythm.
