“To be a baroness, to run my household wherever we end up, to face London’s upper class who will not accept you at first and probably sneer at you? And to meet my family?”
She sighed. “I thought you were asking me if I was ready for my first tupping.”
The soap squeezed from his hand and shot across the room to hit the wall.
After a brief silence, he said, “I suppose that would be a better question. Are you?”
“Yes.” In truth, Miranda wanted him to begin so she could relax.
“Very well. I suppose consummation is the best way to seal a marriage.”
Philip rose from the tub, dried himself off, including scrubbing the cotton cloth through his hair until it stood out wildly in all directions, and then he approached the bed.
“The light,” she reminded him.
“I think it might be nice to see each other.” Then he drew back the covers and took in the view of her in her shift.
Not wishing to lie there like a sacrificial virgin of ancient Greece, she sat up and whipped it over her head before holding it against her.
But he reached out and tugged it from her grasp, dropping it beside them on the mattress.
With his gaze fastened on her naked body, Miranda swallowed. She had some gazing of her own to do, glad she’d seen it before. His muscular planes weren’t a surprise, nor the thick thatch of curls from which his member thrust out.
“Well,” she murmured, about to ask what came next when he stroked the inside of her ankle. She stared at his hand, watching him while trying not to grow tense.
He caressed her from ankle to the juncture of her thighs, and when she held her breath thinking he might touch her at her curls, he stroked down her other leg. Her blood was thrumming already, and her skin tingled where he touched. But mostly, her female parts now throbbed, awaiting his attention.
Unsmiling, he replaced his fingers with his mouth, making her gasp, as he kissed and nibbled his way up her leg, but this time, he settled on his stomach between her legs and parted her soft folds with his capable fingers.
Holding her breath, unable to look away, she watched him lower his mouth to her core. When the tip of his tongue touched the little aching bud, she lay back, unable to support herself any longer. With the gentlest of licks feathered across her nubbin, he had her writhing and sinking her fingers into his damp hair in order to hold him to her.
With unexpected speed, she felt the blossoming of fulfillment. Her muscles tensed and squeezed even as she splayed herself to give him full access. From breathing hard one instant, she held her breath the next as the edge of her climax drew swiftly closer. Bliss hovered just out of reach until...
Philip traced a circle around the pulse of her desire with his warm, firm tongue and then flicked the tip across her now-hardened bud.
“Yes,” Miranda cried out before she could stop herself, releasing his hair and stretching her arms out to the sides. Gripping the sheets between her fingers, she lifted her trembling hips for his greedy feasting kiss.
With her eyes tightly closed, her head arched back, she welcomed the satisfying sensations that crashed over her like waves, shuddering through the powerful crest until she sank back down onto the mattress and breathed steadily.
Feeling Philip rise to his knees, she opened her eyes, almost dizzy with pleasure. He said nothing, but stared at her with his darkened gaze, his pupils large with his own desire. With a feather-light touch, he stroked her breasts, tugging gently on each nipple, as if worshiping her.
Spreading her thighs farther, she held her hands out to him. Into her welcoming embrace, he lowered himself. He guided his sturdy shaft into her dampness and slowly, thickly, begin to impale her.
Time slowed from the rapid, feverish pulsing of moments before. With unhurried movements, Philip eased inside her. She knew of the pain she ought to experience, but when it came, it was less than a bee sting. At once, their glances locked and she nodded.
With her silent invitation, he rocked his hips, gliding deeper inside, leaving them perfectly intwined. While she adjusted to the feeling of being stretched and filled, he dropped a kiss to her right breast before beginning to draw out again. To her delight, he set up a rhythm she could easily match with the lifting and settling of her hips.
In this sensual dance, he continued to kiss first one nipple, then her other, each time he embedded himself deep in her channel.
When he began to thrust more quickly, she watched his face. Pushing up onto his hands, he closed his eyes and sheathed himself fully, withdrew, and repeated the action. In a very short while, she could see he was close to spending. Suddenly lowering onto to his forearm, he slid the other hand between their bodies and stroked her quivering core.
As before, the sensation crested and crashed through her, only this time, she heard him groan as he pumped to his own powerful release, flooding her with liquid warmth.
When Philip finally stilled, he collapsed atop her briefly, then rolled to the side, lying on his back, eyes closed.
She wanted to thank him, but doing so felt awkward. Instead, she offered praise.
“It was beyond anything I expected.”
