When he lifted her, her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. When he laid her down on the bed, he put his weight into his arms.
“Are we going to do more of the thing?” she whispered.
“If you wish.”
He didn’t make her wait. Instead, he trailed a line of kisses down her stomach that left her insides on fire. He hooked his fingers around her drawers and slowly drew them from her. She should be embarrassed to be naked in front of a man. Instead, she felt eager anticipation.
He nipped at the inside of her thigh with his teeth, and a bolt of electricity shot through her like lightning through the sky outside. He parted her curls and turned his attention to the center of her.
She held her breath and waited.
It was every bit as thrilling as it had been in the carriage. As his tongue found the nub that made pleasure course through her, her hands gripped the sheets, twisting.
“John,” she breathed. He didn’t pause. She didn’t want him to. Instead, he continued his rhythmic ministrations until she was gasping. Her vision blurred and she grabbed the padded headboard above her. “I can’t—”Speak. Think. Breathe.
His fingers gripped her thighs and the pressure of his tongue increased.
“Oh God.”
It felt like a cliff he was pushing her toward. He changed his tempo, quickened just a little, and the precipice was upon her. Every muscle in her body stiffened, her feet flexed, and she held on to the headboard like it was the only thing keeping her in reality as she cried out.
“Oh.” She dragged in a breath. “Oh.” Her heart slowed. “Oh.” The ringing in her ears subsided.
John stretched alongside her and brushed a lock of hair from her face. His body leaned against hers and she could feel the hard press of his cock against her thigh.
She turned to face him. “That isn’t all, is it?” she asked when the room stopped spinning.
He grinned. “No. The rest can wait.” But he shifted uncomfortably.
“I don’t want to wait.” She’d waited for years. She’d waited a lifetime.
“Charlotte.”
She caught his cheek in her hand, her thumb tracing the hard bone. “I don’t want to wait. Show me.”
***
He had proposed. She had accepted. While a gentleman did not cross the line and sleep with a young, unmarried lady, surely the line was blurred in such an instance? It was only a matter of days before she was his wife, weeks at most if her brother insisted on reading the banns.
Wilde would call him out if he knew his friend was even considering taking Charlotte’s innocence now.
The decision was taken from his hands, quite literally, when Charlotte’s soft fingers wrapped around his cock shyly, unpracticed, but still heightening his urgency in a way he’d never experienced.
He groaned and called her name.
Emboldened by his obvious pleasure, her grip on him strengthened. She rubbed her hand up and down, the friction against his shaft causing his cock to throb. Her touch felt so good. If she kept this up, he was going to spill himself prematurely.
“Charlotte, wait.” He covered her body with his, shifting his weight to his elbows to keep from crushing her.
Her body, naked against his, caused pressure to build inside him like a steam engine ready to explode at her touch.
Unable to reach his cock, she put one hand on his chest and he felt his heartth-thumpin response. Her other hand wrapped in his hair and she pulled him into an urgent kiss. God, she tasted of summer and honeysuckle—the English garden he hadn’t realized he’d missed during his time in America.
She shifted beneath him until her knees cradled him, her legs spread open.
This was the watershed. This was the point of no return. Not the proposal. Not anything that led up to this moment. Once he had her, she would be his forever and he would be hers. There would be no one else. Ever.
“Charlotte, are you sure?” She was beautiful, intelligent, kind, and capable of having any man she wanted. That she would choose him still felt unlikely.
