“You are challenging,” he said, and lifted her wrist to his lips to brush them there. She shivered at the cascade of tingles that seemed to flow through her at that touch. “You are intelligent.” He kissed her again. “You are kind, regardless of someone’s position.” Once more, he brushed his lips to her, but this time he moved up her forearm. “Youare sweet.” He growled deep in his throat and when he kissed the inside of her elbow, his tongue darting out. “Almost impossibly sweet. And you are my wife. So I ask you to trust me. Let me guide you tonight, teach you what this thing you fear and worry and think about over and over can be. Trust me.”
Trust him. In truth, she still barely knew him. And yet she did trust him. When she looked up into those dark green eyes, she saw a man who wouldn’t hurt her, not on purpose. Perhaps not ever. Such a strange thing to know down to her bones.
“Yes,” she whispered. “I-I trust you.”
He cupped her face, fanning his fingers along her jawline as she tilted up to offer her lips. He took then and she felt the shift. The kiss was still gentle, yes, but she felt a deeper hunger behind it. A more powerful need that swept over her like a wave in the ocean. Fighting it would be no good. She just needed to float.
So she did, not drawing away when he walked her toward his bed, his mouth still on hers. He caught the chemise strap he’d left at her elbow and drew it all the way down, then repeated the action with the other. When he pushed the fabric away, she was naked for him and she squeezed her eyes shut when he pulled back to look at her.
“So perfect,” he murmured, his voice hypnotic and seductive. His fingers pressed into her lower back, bowing her a little, and then she felt his mouth on her nipple.
Her eyes flew open and she stared, watching him lick her, swirling his tongue around and around the tip that she had never known could be so sensitive. When he nipped and sucked her, it sent electric waves of pleasure between her legs, making her throb in time to his touch. She let out a ragged moan and heat suffused her cheeks.
“I-I’m sorry,” she whispered.
He lifted his head from her breast. “For what?”
“I don’t seem to be able to control my response,” she said.
He shook his head and then surprised her by catching her by the waist and lifting her onto the high edge of the bed. They were face to face now, equal in height.
“I want you to lose all control of your response,” he said, his eyes locked with hers in the most fascinating way. “Forget everything else, forget whatever you were told or feared. I want to hear you moan for me, Clarissa. I want to hear your breath catch. I want to know what pleases you by the way you rise beneath my tongue and rake your fingers across my back.”
She shivered. His words were so wicked and she found herself wanting to lean into him, rub herself against him as he said them.
“The rules of engagement in bed are my expertise,” he whispered with a little smirk.
She laughed a little. “I suppose that’s true, isn’t it?”
“Now lie back,” he said, pressing a hand to her shoulders.
She wanted to argue. Who in the world lay back across the bed, their legs dangling off the edge? What would be the purpose? She fought the urge. As he’d said, he was the expert. If she wanted to learn the proper way to engage with her husband in their martial bed, this was the way to study, even if relinquishing control was more than a little frightening.
She rested back, drawing a few long breaths to settle herself, and squeezed her eyes shut. He let out a little laugh and then she felt him move away from her. She opened her eyes and sat up on her elbows.
“Where are you going?” she asked, hating that her voice sounded so desperate.
“Just to get a place to sit,” he assured her, and pointed to one of the chairs by the fire before he dragged it across the fancy carpet and placed it where he’d been standing before her naked body.
He didn’t take that seat yet, though. Instead, he placed one hand on each of her calves. She shivered at the intimate touch. Men didn’t even see a lady’s legs, let alone touch them. And here he was with his warm palms cupping her before they began to slide upward.
“Oh,” she gasped as he pressed his palms to her knees, let his fingers tickle the sensitive place behind them. He moved higher still and she stopped breathing entirely as she watched his fingers press into the flesh of her thigh right below her stocking. He unlaced thegarter and rolled one stocking down, removed her slipper and then did the same on her other leg.
And now she was utterly, entirely naked. Naked with a man. This man. Her husband. Her mind spun with that wild notion and she flopped back and closed her eyes again so she didn’t become entirely overwhelmed.
As if he sensed that shift in her, her stilled his hands on her thighs and merely stroked there. “Clarissa?”
She opened one eye and found him watching her. She nodded.
“I’m going to tell you what I intend to do,” he said. “I don’t want you to be surprised.”
“Yes,” she managed to gasp out.
“I’m going to kiss you,” he said, and then motioned between her legs. “There.”
“Why?” she burst out, and sat back up on her elbows again.
“Because it will feel good to you. It will most definitely feel good to me. And it will help ready you for what will happen afterward. The wetter you are, the easier the way, especially this first time.” He stroked his fingers against her thigh and she gasped at the sensations that seemed to flow through her whole body.
