Hand in hand, he took her to her bedchamber, the same room they had coupled in last night, but now everything was different.
He wanted all the lamps lit.
“I want to see you. You’re so beautiful.”
She felt her face get hot.
“When I say you’re beautiful, Henrietta, I mean it. All of you. Even the parts I haven’t seen yet.”
She ducked her head. “If you haven’t seen those parts, how do you know they’re beautiful?”
He put a hand under her chin and gently lifted so she had to look at him. “I know.”
She hoped it was true. She had believed for so long he did not find her desirable.
“Will you let me undress you?” he asked.
She hated to deny him, but she shook her head. Something wasn’t right. They had been husband and wife for two years. Eaten almost all of their meals together. Shared the raising of a child. And now they had engaged in some very intimate activities together.
But he hadn’t kissed her except the one time. In her father’s study. When she had been too startled to appreciate it.
It might have taken her a long while, but she had finally learned she must ask her husband for what shereallywanted.
She dropped her gaze to his mouth, surrounded by the dark scruff of his evening whiskers. His narrow, sculpted lips were so unlike her own wide, plump ones.
“Will you kiss me?” she asked those lips.
For the first time in her life, she saw his lips broaden and curve up into a smile. Then they said, “I very much want to.”
He came closer to her. One of his large hands went to the nape of her neck, cradling her head. His other arm wrapped around her waist and his hand settled on the middle of her back.
He pulled her against his hard, lean torso, and she felt herself dissolving, her form molding to his, as if their two vastly different bodies were meant to fit together. Perhaps they were.
Suddenly nervous of making a misstep, she slowly brought her arms up and around his neck. She had to tilt her head back so she could continue to look at his mouth. He slanted his own head slightly as his face descended. For a second, he teased her, his smiling lips hovering over hers and she smelled his heated breath.
No whisky. Just the scent of Oliver and her own desire.
Then his lips pressed against hers as his hand on her back pressed her into him even more securely.
At first, his lips were relaxed and gentle. But as time went on, they became fierce and possessive, roaming over her mouth, claiming her lips, owning them. She felt the warm wetness of his tongue stroke against her mouth and she opened to it, welcoming it in. She wanted him, all of him, she wanted anything he gave her. And his tongue was wickedly provocative, probing into her, tasting her, giving her a taste of herself,reminding her of what that tongue had just done between her own legs.
His grip on her nape tightened. She dared to lick his lips, explore his mouth a little, and he groaned into her kiss and she could feel his length hardening against her.
Their mouths were joined for a long time. But she wanted the kiss to last forever. When he broke away and fingered a curl that had tumbled down next to her face, some embarrassingly greedy sound escaped from her before she could swallow it back and her arms tightened around his neck and she went up on her toes. Her husband smiled—another smile!—at her and her raw desire and kissed her once again.
This time, he took her mouth with a driving force. She felt herself bending back with the passion of this kiss. He was consuming her, ravishing her, and her limbs, her belly, all of her had turned into liquid fire.
His lips went to her neck, searing her skin next to her jaw, and she whispered, “You can undress me now.”
“I’m sorely tempted to take you like this and undress you afterwards.” He pulled her upright and spun her around to begin unbuttoning her dress. “But I’m not going to do that. I am going to take my time. I am going to see all of you. I am going to worship all of you. And I’m going to tell you every lascivious thought that comes into my head.”
“I want to hear your thoughts,” she said and whimpered when he kissed the back of her neck. “All of them.”
“Even the filthy ones that involve debauching my wife?” he whispered into her ear.
“Especially those.”
His long, strong fingers soon had her dress unbuttoned and off, her stays unlaced and removed and she stood in her chemise, petticoat, stockings, slippers.
