Within minutes, he had Emmaline stripped down to demure white stockings, all her gorgeous curves and soft skin on display, and then he pushed her down onto the silk-draped cushions with hungry eyes, arranging her on her side just as in the sensual artwork.
Benedict circled the chaise, prowling around until he found a large framed mirror and arranging it against an easel he placed directly in front of her.
He moved back behind her, half kneeling on the couch as he admired her reflection in the looking glass.
Emmaline looked like an erotic odalisque. A perfect study of feminine beauty and power.
“I wanted you from the very first moment I laid eyes on you,” he said, his voice low and full of need as he stroked a hand down her flank, testing the dip of her waist, the exaggerated curve of her hip and thigh.
“Sei tutto per me.You are everything to me.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Benedict’s gazemet hers in the mirror, and Emmeline shivered with nerves and anticipation.
Always she desired her husband, but there was something ferocious in his gaze today that she had only seen on rare occasions. It made her insides curl with excitement, her core pulsing with want.
It had taken so much courage to show him the painting she had done for him.
Many times she had looked at it and thought it too much, he would think her too forward, or that she was not attractive enough to deserve such an outrageous depiction of herself immortalised in paint.
But then she had reminded herself that no matter what she thought, Benedict told her daily he loved her, that he thought her beautiful and he had certainly shown her his dedication in and out of the bedroom in the year they had been married.
She needed to believe him.
Needed to trust that their love was a place where she could share her whole self with him and feel nothing but safety and acceptance.
Emmaline took a deep breath and smiled at Benedict’s reflection, glancing shyly away when he flashed her a wolfish grin in return.
Benedict kept his eyes on hers as he slowly shucked his jacket, tossing it carelessly to the floor as he started work on his cravat and waistcoat. Dragging the white lawn shirt over his head, stripping his chest bare for her as Emmaline bit her lip and admired the lean planes of his torso, the fine sheen of hair that trailed down over his belly and disappeared into the waistband of his buckskin breeches.
He looked like a powerful, virile, golden god. And he was all hers.
Soon Benedict was as gloriously naked as she was, and he lay down behind her, working an arm under her shoulder and pulling her possessively back against his chest so he could nibble suggestively on an earlobe as her breath hitched.
Benedict cupped her breasts, palming their weight and squeezing while he admired the look of them in his hands and her core pulsed wantonly in response.
His hard member ground against her bottom and Emmaline’s hips shifted to rub against him, the need for him to fill her becoming all-consuming.
Benedict stilled her hips with his hand, fingertips digging decadently into the tender skin as Emmaline reached back to graze her fingers along his jaw.
“I want to see all of you,” he whispered against her skin, mouth dragging along her neck as he hitched a thigh up over his hip, wedging his knee between her legs and spreading her body indecently for his gaze.
Emmaline sucked in a breath, relaxing against Benedict as those wicked fingers of his dipped between her thighs and delved into the folds of her sex, dragging slowly through her slick heat while he watched, enthralled.
Emmaline shyly snuck glances at their reflection as Benedict continued to toy with her, his touch light at first, then more demanding, and she began to undulate helplessly against his hand, pale skin flushing pink as arousal washed over her like an incoming tide of sin.
His fingers dipped into her heat with a flash of pleasure, and then he slicked the evidence of her excitement up over her flesh, teasing her nub with scorching circles that made her eyes close tight with bliss.
Benedict brought that hand up and swiped her wetness over one tender nipple, leaning over to taste her arousal there as Emmaline gasped in shock.
“You taste exquisite,” he groaned, taking her mouth with a fierce kiss and Emmaline could taste herself on his lips, her thoughts spinning with the wickedness of their actions.
Panting now, they broke apart, and Benedict fumbled between them, sliding his cock between her thighs and fitting the thick crown to her opening with a moan of need.
“Look at yourself,” he ordered, pulling her tight to his chest and meeting her eyes in the mirror before them. “Look at how goddamn beautiful you are.”
He thrust slowly into her heat, filling her up with short, teasing strokes as her eyes watched the flex of his hips, the way his hand cupped her breast, his eyes devouring her like a man starved as he took possession of her body.
