“Only for a moment,” he promised.
She slid off of him. He started toward the edge of the bed, and she scrambled after him, grabbing for his arm.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured. “I’m taking my shoes off.”
Oh.
She gave him space, relieved when he reached down to untie his shoelaces rather than making a run for the door. He removed both shoes, finished undoing his trouser buttons, and slid them down over his narrow hips. The fabric pooled on the floor, and he stepped out of it and climbed onto the bed.
Sophie couldn’t take her eyes off his legs. They were long and toned, dusted with coarse, dark hair. Far more muscular than hers—perhaps from all the riding he did.
He crawled up the bed and leaned against the headboard. His shirt rode up, revealing the part of him she’d had her hand on earlier. It was angled upward, flushed red, and its head was shiny with some sort of liquid.
He beckoned her forward, a wicked grin curving his mouth. “You know how to ride.”
“I do,” she agreed, uncertain where he was leading this conversation.
He patted his thighs. “Straddle me, and then I want you to ride me like you do those horses.”
Ride him?
Her eyes widened, and she tilted her head, trying to figure out exactly how she was supposed to do that.
He patted his thighs again, and she straddled them as he’d asked. He grabbed handfuls of her skirts and petticoats andlifted them so that there was nothing between his naked body and her most private parts.
As she settled into place, that hard member aligned perfectly with her sex, and she gasped, the friction exquisite, especially at the bundle of nerves he’d toyed with earlier.
Suddenly, the concept of riding him made a lot more sense.
The fluid she’d seen at the head of his shaft combined with her own wetness provided lubrication as she rocked back on her heels and then forward again, gliding along his length.
Her head fell back, and sparks zapped along her nerves. Nicholas kissed her throat and mouthed at the crook of her neck. She clutched at his shoulders to hold herself in place and repeated the movement with her hips.
Oh. That was nice.
Nicholas gripped her hips, his fingers tight enough that she imagined he’d leave imprints on her skin.
She’d love nothing more.
“That’s it,” he urged as he guided her, showing her how to make it feel even better.
“Is this….” Her breath caught, and she bit her lower lip. “Is this as good for you as it is for me?”
He groaned and held her gaze. “Better, love.”
Love.
Her heart squeezed.
She knew he’d meant it as a term of endearment and that it wasn’t actually a proclamation of his feelings for her, but her silly heart was prepared to believe he’d fallen head over heels for her after overlooking her for so long.
Hopefully, he wouldn’t hurt her.
She trusted him not to physically harm her or do anything to cause society to shun her, but emotional safety was another matter entirely.
Pushing the worry to the back of her mind, she focusedon how utterly delicious it was to ride the man of her dreams so shamelessly in a guestroom with her mother just across the hall.
Her breath came faster, the tangle of pleasure inside her growing tighter, warmth spreading throughout her limbs. Nicholas held her in place and worked himself against her, providing friction even when she was in too much of a pleasure haze to do anything more than take it.
