Hugh’s eyes watched her. “Are you willing…?” He let his voice trail off.
Suddenly, Penelope’s mouth felt dry, and she was certain he could hear her heart beating from across the room. “Yes.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “Yes,” she said more firmly. She wanted to add that she was his wife, and it was her duty, but that would be hypocritical of her. This had nothing to do with duty. This had nothing to do with obligation.
Hugh reached up and began unbuttoning his shirt. He’d not disrobed that night in Cortland’s study.
She pushed memories of their first time out of her mind. For now, she’d dare to hope that this time could be a new beginning for them.
He peeled his shirt off and she watched, fascinated, as the muscles on his arms and torso moved and rippled. Chestnut hair led a trail down past his belly, into his breeches.
Unsure of what he’d expect from her, she simply waited. Her palms were suddenly damp as heat poured through her. Hugh stepped forward and pulled her to her feet. She knew her night rail was tent-like.
Because she needed a tent!
And then he took hold of the long braid that fell across her shoulder. “Like a silken rope.” The words left his mouth almost of their own volition. He untied the ribbon and slowly unraveled it, combing his fingers through the long strands.
“It’s not so very red,” she apologized.
Hugh raised his gaze from her hair back to her face. “It’s golden-red.”
Penelope reached out one hand and touched the skin that stretched over his muscles between his shoulder and his elbow. It was smooth, slick almost. She remembered how they had strained, before, when he’d held himself above her.
And then Hugh was distracted from her hair by the tie at the neck of her gown. He meant to unclothe her. “The candles,” she said. Her reluctance to appear naked before him did not stem from modesty but from fear that if he saw her swollen belly his desire would flee. She didn’t want him to be reminded…
Hugh stopped and turned to extinguish the lights she’d set up for her work.
Now there was only the moonlight slicing across the counterpane. Penelope, feeling ignorant and tentative, nonetheless scampered onto the large bed and under the covers. If he removed her gown now, at least he would not see the bulge that had once been her abdomen. Hugh stepped in front of the window and became a looming shadow beside the bed. She could tell, though, that he was unbuttoning the falls of his breeches and then peeling them off.
He was naked when he pulled back the covers and climbed in beside her.
His aroma was musky, masculine and earthy. She only detected a hint of the cologne he normally wore. She swallowed hard. It shouldn’t hurt this time. He wasn’t drunk and she wanted this.
“Penelope,” He pulled himself up beside her. “Stop thinking so hard.” One of his fingers smoothed the furrow she must have made on her brow. And then his hand was in her hair, behind her neck. She could barely make out his features as he lowered his mouth to her throat.
That warmth that had flooded through her before was suddenly a burning heat rushing to her thighs, her gut, her womb. She wrapped her hands around his head and held onto him as he trailed his mouth down to her breasts.
His hands had gathered her gown up to her waist. Without warning, he pulled it over her head. The rush of chilly air did nothing to cool her sudden ardor. “Please.” The word escaped on a whimper. She craved this. She craved him.
His hands explored her breasts, her side, down to her waist and thighs. He moved over her and allowed his weight to settle upon her. It would not have been unpleasant, normally, she assumed, but… “Hugh,” she managed. “I don’t think…”
He’d felt it. He’d felt the hard mound between them. She did not want him to stop! But his weight exerted too much pressure.
He raised himself up, for only a moment. But then before she had time to realize his intentions, he rolled them both over so that she lay on top of him.
All she was aware of now was the hardness that was Hugh. Straddling him now, she lifted herself upward and then lowered back onto him.
“Ah. Oh, oh, yes.” She could not stop the gasps as his member slid inside of her. It felt so very, very—she searched her mind for the proper adjective—so very…
He removed himself slightly and pulled back before pressing upward and penetrating her completely. It was as though he knew exactly what she needed.
So very…
He thrust again, holding her by the waist now.
So very…
Good.
She stopped thinking and surrendered to simply feeling.
