She shook her head.
He eased the bedclothes away. “Then don’t do that. I want to see you.”
She closed her eyes as he peeled away her shield. He left her like that while he stood and removed the rest of his garments. The sight of her lying there had his mind burning.
“It is said the French are very good at this,” she said.
“I am half English.”
“Perhaps you should speak French, so as to call on that half.”
“I do not think I will be speaking much. My mouth will be too busy.”
He rejoined her and braced on one arm while he caressed her neck and down her chest between her breasts. Already their tips rose hard and high.
Her own hand stroked his arm. She looked up at him. “Do you really intend to do all those things you spoke of this afternoon?”
“Not all of them tonight.” He would not have the patience.
“That was very bad of you. Very scandalous.”
“And yet you did nothing to stop me. Not one gasp. Not one word.”
“I was too shocked.”
“It looked to me like you were fascinated.” And aroused. Definitely aroused. He would never have gone so far if not for that. He palmed both tips lightly.
She gasped. “Oh! That feels even better without clothing.”
He made sure she learned just how much better. He caressed her breasts until she moaned with pleasure, then lowered his head and used his tongue and mouth.
Wildness claimed her so quickly she must not have fought it at all. Her passion inflamed his own. Erotic images plagued him, but he kept enough sense to know this was not the night for them.
He stroked to her legs, then pressed his hand up between her thighs. Joyful shock rang out in her cries. He explored her moist softness while he continued arousing her with teeth and tongue. Lost to the sensations, she parted her legs more and told him with her begging sighs that she wanted more when his caresses increased her pleasure.
Raw hunger broke free in him. Nothing less than thrusting inside her would satisfy that need now. He gritted his teeth and stroked the places that would force her to her release if she permitted it. He heard her climb in her cries and felt it in her body’s movements. He also felt her fear. He pressed his mouth to her ear and told her to let go. She did, embracing that oblivion with a scream.
He moved to take her. Her arms rose to clutch him. He leashed enough sense to go slow at first and learned that was a damned good thing. He held himself back so he did not hurt her further while desire howled in him. He silenced that primitive voice long enough to know the calmer pleasure of the feel of her encasing him. He stroked long and slow while he could, but eventually the need for completion defeated him. Release came like a cataclysm. It pitched him into dark silence where no other senses existed and where utter peace waited.
* * *
Having experience with many women, Adam knew better than to fall asleep the way his whole body encouraged. Instead, as he emerged back into the world, he rolled off Clara and pulled her into his arm by his side.
It behooved him to say something as soon as his mind would cooperate. Experience gained him nothing there, however. This was a first time for her, which made it his first time too, in a manner of speaking.
Clara was ready to talk even if he was not. For reasons he never understood, women turned chatty at such times. She was no exception.
“That was very nice,” she said. “It did not hurt nearly as much as I expected.”
“That is good to know.” The nice part pleased him. The not hurting part relieved him. It seemed to him he might have hurt her, now that a few memories infiltrated his mind.
She rose up on her elbow and looked at him. “I know gentlemen are supposed to feel guilty when they have been with innocents, but I trust you do not.”
“I do not feel guilty at all, since I intend that we will marry.”
“See? There is that guilt, even if you deny it. Well, I absolve you.”
“Clara, I already proposed. Remember?”
