Chapter Sixteen
She was on fire, thought James as he found himself with a writhing mass of silk and skin on top of him. Her body seemed to be obeying a whim of its own, struggling to find the right position, to findhim…
Being the gentleman of good nature that he was, he did his very best to assist her, sliding out from beneath her body and settling her beside him. Which incidentally afford him free access to a number of things he was interested in exploring. He began with her bodice, a delightfully intriguing low cut affair, the design of which allowed him to slide it off her shoulder without hindrance. And even further.
The gasp she gave as he bent to suckle her was the encouragement he needed. That, and the fact that her fingers were behind his head, holding him right where he was.
She moaned as he played, teasing the little nub to erect hardness, cupping her and feeling her swell beneath his touch.
Her body slithered a little, one leg lifting, moving and resting on his hip.
Truly he was an immortal god of immense power, realized James. He hadn’t come in his dress breeches. Only a god could command such control.
Coincidentally endorsing his epiphany, Letitia sighed his name. “James, oh God, James…”
He kept up his efforts to tug on her nipple with his tongue, but gauged it was time to add a further element of pleasure to the mix. He slipped his hand beneath her leg and found her thigh, tracing it upward to her soft folds and cupping them firmly.
She gasped again, sucking in air, thrusting her hips into his grasp. She was responding as thoroughly and enthusiastically as he could have wished at this moment.
He was now the one yearning for more. But common sense, that nasty little destroyer of pleasure, reminded him she was untried. A virgin. And, much as they both might have wanted to, a sofa in a back parlour during the Seton-Mowbray ball was neither the place nor the time for such a momentous event.
That did not mean, however, that he couldn’t introduce Letitia to the ultimate pleasure. Always assuming she was unaware of the process. His eyes crossed momentarily at the mental vision of her making herself come in the privacy of her own room.
Dear Lord, it was hot in here. Beads of sweat dotted his brow as he let go her breast, giving it a last loving lick.
Then he began to move his hand, placing his thumb on top of her most sensitive spots and easing a finger inside her as he did so.
She stiffened at the intrusion.
“Easy love. Easy.” He gentled her, feeling her juices slick and hot on his hand. “Relax. I won’t hurt you.”
She took a breath. “I know. ’Tis…strange…”
He rubbed his thumb around, tiny motions, exploring her, learning her responses. A quick motion, a whisper, a groan…all music to his ears and directions for his fingers. He sensed the shudder as he found what he sought—her tiny bud, growing and swelling even as he gently brushed the tip of his thumb around it.
“God,” she breathed, her body tensing at his movements.
He began a rhythm, his finger sliding against her inner flesh while his thumb continued to stimulate her. She was liquid fire, burning hot, lifting her thigh and unconsciously offering him even better access.
“That’s it, my sweet, let go…” He whispered endearments, encouragement, telling her she was beautiful, so desirable…nonsensical things that helped keep him back from ripping open his breeches and replacing his hand with his cock.
He wanted her so badly he trembled, but again his control exerted itself. He couldn’t. Not yet.
But by God he would.
And soon.
*~~*~~*
Letitia was floating on a violent wave-tossed sea; her body straining and moving in ways she’d never imagined.
The touch of James’s hand, the intrusion of his fingers—it was all so strange and so different to anything she had ever imagined.
And yet it wasright.
She truly felt as if she’d been waiting for the hand of James FitzArden to find her, touch her and drive her beyond all boundaries. He knew, in some uncanny way, where and how to touch her, to caress her and to do what he was doing which was going to make her scream in short order.
Her body was taut, her spine almost arched as she thrust herself into his grip, obeying an urge that she never knew she had.
