She pulled away the cloth and put her hand over his, pushing his fingers into places that had slept for too long. Like a maiden bespelled for a thousand years, Gwyneth’s body awoke as Gabriel massaged her womanhood, and she pushed against him, the water softly lapping as he delved deep.
After so long, she’d forgotten the delicious tingle of awareness that threaded through her limbs and the bite of lust that swelled the folds of flesh Gabriel rubbed at her command. Nearer, higher, she let her head fall back, her mouth parting on a gasp as she guided his fingers into her heat.
His murmur next to her ear added to the fire and she urged him into a rhythm that brought an onrush of arousal, and a tension to her legs as the climb to the peak began.
“Gabriel,” she whispered. “Yes…oh yes…”
He must have felt her quivering, for he took over, moving on his own to those places that made her whimper.
Gripping the sides of the tub, Gwyneth's hips lifted toward that hand, those fingers. And with a shattering choking cry, she broke, plunging off the cliff of ecstasy into the first release she’d had in more years than she could remember.
Great spasms rocked her and her thighs clenched tight, holding Gabriel’s fingers right where they were. Every muscle, no matter how weak, tightened as she rode out the wave of magnificent pleasure.
And finally slumped down into the cooling water.
“That was so…beautiful,” breathed Gabriel. “I had no idea…”
She turned her head lazily, opened her eyes and looked at the awe on his face. “Thank you, I believe that was something my body needed.” She blinked at him. “Have you never helped a woman attain her peak in this manner?”
“I’ve never had a woman before. So no, I didn’t know it would be anything like this.”
She took a few moments to absorb the implications of that statement. “So…you’re a virgin?” How was that possible?
He looked away and applied his energies to washing her legs and feet. “Only as far as women are concerned.”
“Oh.” As explanations went, it was minimal. But the point was clear. Gwyneth understood exactly what he was talking about. “But you didn’t find this distasteful?”
“How could I?” He glanced up at her, his eyes wide. “It was the most beautiful thing to watch.”
“You do realise that the same thing can happen with another part of a man’s anatomy,” she commented.
He looked amused. “I may not havehada woman, Lady Gwyneth, but I understand the process quite well.”
“So it’s a matter of choice? Your choice?”
He sighed. “It’s…I suppose it is true to say the matter is somewhat complicated.”
She sighed too. “It always is.”
ChapterTwelve
Candlelight shone bright as Lady Gwyneth progressed slowly down the main stairs at Wolfbridge Manor.
“A lovely hall,” she commented, her eyes roaming over the tall ceiling, the tasteful wood panelling, and the statues, paintings and other decorations that had drifted to the walls over the centuries.
“The Manor does have a certain appeal,” answered Giles.
She had her arm linked through his, but was doing her best not to lean on him. After her bath, her restorative nap, and actually dressing in a simple chemise and robe—not traditional evening garb, but a step up from her nightgown—Gwyneth felt alive and aware, for the first time in longer than she could recall. Kilham Abbey was a blur, her late husband’s face difficult to summon, and her time at the Dower House an unpleasant memory she pushed aside.
Now, here, in Wolfbridge Manor, she was returning to life, to a new home and the people in it. The light from a doorway beckoned, and every step seemed to add a little more strength to her spine. Seeing the gentlemen already there waiting for her…it was a moment to relish. And cherish.
Their faces showed their pleasure at her presence downstairs with them, and that alone made her straighten her spine and raise her chin before returning their smiles. Gabriel moved forward, beaming, his delight obvious.
“Dinner is ready, my Lady,” he bowed. “You’re not quite up to sherry yet, so we anticipated your arrival, toasted your health and we may dine immediately.”
“Excellent.” Giles nodded and led her to the dining room. “At last,” he said. “The Lady of Wolfbridge takes her seat.” He seated her at the head of the table as the others stood, waiting for her to settle.
“It is good to see you recovered, my Lady,” said Jeremy as he poured wine.
