She was not prepared for the invasion of his fingers, especially since he chose that moment to nip at her ear again.
“Douglas.”
“Hush, Sarah,” he said, a smile in his voice. “I’d use my mouth, but I think it’s a little early for that.”
His mouth?
While she was adjusting to that startling bit of information, he slowly inserted a finger inside her. She was so shocked by his actions that she turned to him just in time for him to lower his mouth over hers.
His kisses really were intoxicating.
He started that rhythmic movement with his fingers again, stroking over her swollen flesh so delicately, then moving quicker.
The strangest feeling was beginning to overwhelm her, almost as if she were melting, as if she were turning into honey. Her skin was on fire, beginning where he was stroking and stretching outward to all her limbs. Even her toes curled as pleasure traveled through her. She turned toward him, her hands flailing against him.
She would have whispered his name had any coherent thought been left to her. Her skin, slick and wet, felt hot and tight as if fire burned inside her.
She moaned into his mouth. He broke off the kiss, nuzzled at the nape of her neck, then kissed his way up her throat while she was desperate for breath.
“It’s all right, Sarah,” he said softly against her ear. “I’ve got you. You can soar.”
And she did. Just when she thought the pleasurecouldn’t get any stronger, it ended, stopped in full motion by a burst of exhilarating sensation through her body. A sound escaped her, softer than a scream, louder than a moan, but she didn’t care.
Her thoughts, her mind, her body was centered on the extraordinary pleasure she felt and the man who’d brought it to her.
Chapter 23
Douglas awakened to the feeling of Sarah’s skin against his. His right hand lay on her hip, as if claiming her even in sleep. He lay still, listening to her breathe, the curve of her derriere against his cock coaxing him stiff without one movement on her part.
Raising himself on one elbow, he studied her as she slept. Were all women as beautiful? Despite a wealth of experience with women, he’d never been captivated by the sight of one asleep.
But then, Sarah had been a first for him in a great many ways. He’d never before been taken by a woman so instantaneously, to the degree he’d married a stranger. He’d been astonished by the sheer amount of work she performed, by her judgment and persistence. His heart had been touched by her grief, and by the depth of her courage.
A touch of pink colored her cheek; a smile curved her lips. He fought a battle with himself—to kiss her or to leave her in peace?
She’d been a virgin the night before. He needed to restrain himself, not a common response around a beautiful woman, especially the one who was his wife. She had the ability to arouse him simply by walking into aroom, but he doubted she was aware of his reaction. Or the fact that he’d been in love with her from the very moment he’d seen her—he, Douglas Eston, scientist, adventurer, explorer, a man with a single-minded focus on his own pursuits.
Her hair was strewn across the pillow. She would fuss at him this morning for the time it took to comb out the tangles. He smiled. Perhaps she would allow him to be her maid.
Watching her sleep made him melancholy for some odd reason. Was it because he felt closer to her now than he would when she was awake? She’d become the duke’s daughter then, a woman born to privilege, unlike him.
He left the bed, grabbed his clothes, and dressed in the sitting room. A quick glance at the mantel clock assured him he had plenty of time before his meeting.
Douglas left the chamber without disturbing Sarah, almost immediately regretting his chivalry and the fact that he hadn’t kissed her.
When she awoke, Douglas was gone. Sarah sat up on the edge of the bed, realizing she was sore in places she’d never before felt. This matter of being a wife was a great deal more complicated than she’d believed. It wasn’t simply losing her virginity. She was not prepared for the emotions, either. She felt absurdly joyous, then just as oddly filled with sorrow, as if consummating her marriage had set her on a journey from one emotion to its extreme counterpart.
Perhaps her confusion was due to her mother’s death and the fact that tears were never far away. Her grief was almost like a black miasma hanging over her head, surrounding her like a veil. Even in the midst of it,however, she’d smiled and felt amusement, and the layering of that emotion on top of her sorrow seemed to give it a different dimension.
So did passion.
He’d put his mouth on her. He’d kissed her just below her shoulder on the upper curve of her breast. He’d kissed her everywhere tenderly and lingeringly, then delivered her delight, offering it up to her with the knowledge that her body was capable of bliss.
She stared down at her feet. How strange that they didn’t seem like her feet. But then, her body didn’t feel quite hers either. Nothing felt the same. Even the morning air was a little different, as if she’d never before noticed what it was like to feel chilled.
She didn’t know what to do, how to behave, and in a lifetime of being told how to act, how to comport herself, she was left floundering. She wasn’t certain that what had happened last night was proper at all, but there was no one to ask, of course. There were some questions, evidently, that were destined never to be voiced.
Perhaps she should simply ask Douglas. She would frame the question in a very desultory manner, as if she were not even interested, then pay great attention to his answer.
