Page 87 of To Woo a Wicked Widow

He climbed up onto the bed, stretching his length alongside her. With a slowness that cost him agonies below, he slid his hand over her breast, watching as first one, then the other dark nipple furled themselves into tight buds. They called to him like sirens. He lowered his head and touched his tongue to the nearest one.

Charlotte sucked in her breath and shifted beneath his hand.

He laved the little peak thoroughly, then blew gently across the moist surface. The skin of her breast pimpled and the nipple contracted even more tightly, jutting up like the tiny stem of his pocket watch. Could he wind her even tighter? He sucked the nipple into his mouth and let his teeth scrape along the hardened tip.

At the same time, he reached her curls. He squeezed the plump flesh and slid one finger inside.

“Owww. That hurt, Nash.”

Shame stopped him cold. “I’m so sorry, Charlotte. I must have bit too hard.” He peered into her eyes, cursing himself for causing her any pain.

“Not there.” She frowned and shifted her bottom. “I didn’t think it was supposed to hurt after the first time.”

“Hurt where the first time?”

Her cheeks pinked. “Down there.”

He smiled. “I haven’t done anything down there yet, love.”

Charlotte frowned. “You have. I can . . .” Her voice lowered, as if someone else could hear. “I can feel you, Nash. It hurts.”

What the devil did she mean? “But that’s only my . . . I mean, I haven’t put myself inside you yet.”

“Well, there’s something there.” Her eyes flashed.

Could she still be sore from lying with Kersey? “Does this hurt?” He wiggled his finger inside her. She did seem awfully tight.

“A little. Not like before.”

Perhaps another try. He slid a second finger inside.

“Owww. Yes, yes, that hurts.” She stared accusingly at him.

Christ Almighty. Very gently, he removed his fingers and sat up. “Charlotte, do you remember anything about your encounter with Lord Kersey?’

She puckered her brow and bit her lip. “Not much. I was quite foxed.”

“Did you feel a hurt, just as now? Were you sore there the next morning?”

“I don’t remember feeling anything that night. And the next morning my head hurt so abominably I have no idea if anything else was sore.” She looked up at him, sudden hope in her eyes. “So you don’t think he . . .”

Nash shook his head and ran a finger down her luscious body, from neck to the silky curls where he had lately trespassed, and delighted in her shiver. “I don’t know for certain. But it’s beginning to seem doubtful. Was there blood on the sheets the next morning?”

She shook her head. “I have no idea. I was so ill, I didn’t think to look. Rose would know. We’ll have to ask her when we get to Lyttlefield.”

Never letting his gaze leave her face, he stretched out next to her again, running his fingers through those tantalizing curls. Slowly, he pushed her legs apart. “There’s another way to find out.”

Her eyes grew large before narrowing to slits. “So, if it hurts badly this time and there is blood, then he didn’t . . .”

“That’s right. He didn’t . . . and I’ll be your first.” God, he hoped that would be true. He cupped her face, caressing her cheek with his thumb. “Will you mind that very much?”

In answer, Charlotte growled in her throat, sending a primal shiver down his spine. She grabbed his shoulders and dragged him over top of her. She pulled his mouth down to hers, pressing her tongue inside. A kiss sweet beyond belief. Made more exciting because she had taken the lead.

His already stiff member swelled to more painful heights.

“Love me, Nash. Love me now.”

He’d wanted their first time together to be slow and pure pleasure; that, now, had changed. Perhaps best to provide some quick pleasure to distract from the pain. He slid his mouth over her nipple, teased it to a point, then nibbled at it.