Victorcouldbarelystandbeing in his clothing. His breeches had become uncomfortable beyond bearing. Breaking his kiss, he straightened and tore off his shirt, followed by his boots and finally his trousers. All the while his gaze held Charlotte’s. He did not want to break contact entirely for fear that she would become aware of everything surrounding them and not the new, strange and hopefully exciting things happening within her.
Slowly he lowered himself to the bed, lying on his side, facing her. Charlotte shuddered for a moment as if chilled. As his lips descended once more, he knew he was free to enjoy her at his leisure and show her all they could share. His hands roved over her body, stopping to toy with her breasts once again. She arched as if wanting more.
When his palm slid away, down her abdomen Charlotte whimpered and the muscles tightened as his palm continued its descent.
Victor slowed as he reached the curls shielding her womanhood. This would be another new experience and he hoped his wife didn’t balk at his intimate touch as he proceeded. Charlotte stiffened only momentarily when his fingers found her folds. He didn’t wait for her to relax but instead, brushed the most sensitive place of all with his thumb.
Charlotte’s eyes flew open. She had also stopped kissing and Victor lifted his head to watch her, to gauge her reaction and bit back a smile. Shocked though she may be, Charlotte certainly wasn’t trying to pull away. In fact, her thighs had fallen open, relaxed and ready for him. Though he knew he would get no objection, Victor waited, though he wondered if his body would hold until Charlotte had her first release.
She wasn’t even aware he was watching her. Charlotte was too caught up with what was happening to her. Her eyes closed and she moved, lifting her hips slightly, eager for what was building. He knew the moment her climax took hold because her lips opened once again, her back arched and she let out a long, deep moan as if it had come from the center of her being. He didn’t give her time to recover and positioned himself to enter her while pleasure was still pulsing through her body.
He slowly began to fill her, stopping just inside her tight passage. He throbbed and wondered if he could hold out until he had completely taken her. Charlotte blinked up at him, her fingers digging into his shoulders. Victor lowered his head and took her lips in a passionate kiss, and then he moved, plunging forward, filling her. A cry escaped and he stopped moving. Nothing had ever felt this good in his life. If only Charlotte didn’t have to suffer but there was no way to avoid rending her of her virgin state. He attempted to soothe her and kissed her face, tasting the tear that leaked from an eye.
“I am sorry. I do not know how to have made it easier,” he apologized.
“Is it always this way? The pleasure then the pain?”
He simply stared at her. He had assumed that at her age she would know. “No. The pain is only the first time. The pleasure is always.”
“Good.” She smiled through her tears.
“Would you like me to stop?” He hoped her answer was ‘no’.
“There is more?” she asked hesitantly.
“Yes. But I will pull away if you are in too much pain.”
“It has faded,” Charlotte assured him.
Victor kissed her again and began to move. It didn’t take long for Charlotte to adapt to his rhythm, match him thrust for thrust. Her body had taken over, urging her toward that shattering pleasure once again. He couldn’t believe she had recovered so quickly and was embracing him with a passion he knew had existed but hadn’t expected to experience this soon.
He had wanted this for so long, needed this, that he could hold back no longer. As much as he would like to bring her to climax once again, Victor could not hold on any longer. Just as his body reached its limit, Charlotte tightened around him, her own release pushing him over the edge.
Chapter 26
Charlottestoodinthecenter of the school room on the top floor and turned circles. What to do? How soon was a school room needed actually? Her hand went to her abdomen, wondering for the hundredth time if there was indeed a babe growing inside, and had to reach the conclusion that there was. Victor had consummated their marriage two months ago and she hadn’t had her courses since before that time.
The nursery, opposite the schoolroom, was empty. She had never decorated in there because she didn’t want to prepare for a child that may never arrive. There was also a chamber for a nurse and governess. Those too, were void of any color, furniture, or any comforts that would be necessary if one were to live there.
The same could not be said for the school room. Again, she turned slowly. There were canvases stacked along most walls. Away from the sun were shelves of paints, brushes, rags, and all manner of items needed to create art. Where would she paint once the school room needed to be used for its intended purpose?
There was a storage room at the end of this floor, but barely any light leaked in from the small narrow windows. Could windows be added?
She marched out of the room and down the hall and pushed open the door to the dark room. This room was utterly depressing. She could never work in here.
Charlotte pulled the door closed and returned to her current studio. She had at least four years, by her estimation, before the child would need to be educated, maybe even longer, so she wouldn’t worry about it today. The canvas by the window, however, needed attention now and Charlotte returned to her painting. Gently she touched the mountain scene. The paint and canvas were both dry so she could continue.
Stroke by stroke, ripples appeared on the once calm lake.
A hand swept across her belly and Charlotte was pulled back against the strong chest of her husband. With a yelp she turned in his arms, bringing the brush, coated in blue, across his face.
Victor drew back and swiped a hand across his face, bringing his fingers out to check the color.
Charlotte gasped. Goodness, the one time she accidently got paint on her father he had flown into a rage. Thank goodness that Victor did not possess any of the same traits as her father, and it was his own fault for startling her.
Victor touched his face where the paint remained and then stared at his fingers a few moments before his eyes narrowed.
Charlotte held her breath, scrunched her eyes and waited.
