“Shall I continue?”
He opened his eyes and shook his head. Then he took her hand and kissed it, brushing his lips over her knuckles. Holding it in both hands, he pressed it against his chest and sighed. His heartbeat pulsed thickly against her palm. Dare she hope that his heart beat for her?
He pushed her back again, moved to climb on top of her, then hesitated.
She curled her fingers around his arms.
“Please, Charles,” she whispered. “I want your body on top of mine. I want to feel you. I trust you not to hurt me.”
He blinked again, and a tear splashed onto her chest. Then he lowered his lips to hers.
At first, the kiss was gentle, as if he feared he might harm her. Then, as his body relaxed over hers, the kiss grew more insistent. He flicked his tongue against the seam of her lips, and she parted them to welcome him. With a low growl, he slipped his tongue in and caressed the inside of her mouth in soft, sweeping gestures. He tasted of warmth and spice, and she curled her tongue around his to draw him in deeper.
Then she felt his manhood shifting against her thighs, moving slickly against her heated skin. The tip of him prodded against her center, and she caught her breath at the ripple of pleasure. He broke their kiss and raised his eyebrows, asking, once more, for consent.
Gladly, my love…
There was no need for words. As if he’d read her mind, his eyes widened in delight, and he eased himself into her. This time there wasno pain, only a delicious friction where he filled her, pausing to let her body stretch around him before he slid in deeper until their hips met and he clung to her, his breathing labored.
“No pain,” she whispered. “Only pleasure.”
Slowly he withdrew, and she jerked at a little pulse of pleasure. Then he slid into her again and she lifted her hips to meet him, chasing both the friction and the pleasure.
“Again,” she said, her breathing growing ragged.
He withdrew and plunged in again.
“Harder… Faster…”
A look of wonder flared in his eyes as she begged him to continue, willing the pleasure that was just out of reach to come to the fore. His breath came out in short, sharp puffs and he increased the pace while she met each thrust, causing a wave of pleasure that receded each time he withdrew then surged forward, each time stronger than the last. The swell rose above her and she closed her eyes, surrendering to the pure sensation as her rational mind began to dissolve.
He plunged his tongue into her mouth, mirroring the union of their bodies, and devoured her as he thrust into her body, slamming his hips against hers. The surge morphed into an explosion that shattered her soul, and she cried out his name as waves of ecstasy tore through her body.
“Charles! Sweet heaven… Oh…Charles!”
He exhaled sharply, shuddering, and a wave of heat filled her body. Then he fell forward, his weight bearing down on her, but she relished it. In a wicked little corner of her mind, she drew pleasure from the notion of being a female claimed by the beast who pinned her down while he took his—and her—pleasure.
As his breathing steadied, he enveloped her in his arms and rolled onto his side, still inside her. A flare of heat ignited in her center, and he smiled, thrusting once more inside her while she sighed with pleasure.
A delicious languor overcame her, and she relaxed in his arms while his heartbeat slowed to a deep, steady pulse. Then he exhaled, slowly, his breath fanning her heated skin until, at length, he fell asleep, cradling her in his arms.
Finally, Olivia understood what Eleanor had said about the delights to be found in the marriage bed, and how much she hoped that Olivia would take just as much pleasure from her marriage.
And Olivia’s pleasure would be complete, save for two things.
The secret she carried in her belly and the fact that though she had screamed his name, declaring her pleasure and her love, she would never hear her husband speak hers.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Could there bea more fortunate man in the world?
As his wife drifted about the breakfast room, Charles paused, his teacup at his lips, to let his gaze wander over her delectable form—the slender neck he’d peppered last night with kisses, the curve of her throat, the delicious breasts with their rosy nipples that seemed to get fuller as each day passed, and…
Desire heated his groin at the sight of her rounded hips, discernible through the fabric of her skirts when the sunlight shone at that particular angle.
She really ought to position herself in front of the window more often at that time of day.
Perhaps she’d be willing to engage in a bout of loving on the breakfast table, spread before him like a feast for him to devour while she screamed his name…
