She looked down at that hand, then around the chamber. “Do you think to do this here?”
Calmer kisses. Soothing ones. “Not unless you want to.”
The carpet, while expensive and thick, did not appear very comfortable. “I do not think it wise.”
One deep look in her eyes, and he lifted her by the hand. “Come with me.”
He did not lead her far. His chambers spread over one floor of a house, so his bedchamber could be found nearby. They passed a back stairs and went a little farther. He opened a door, then released her hand while he turned and worked the latch.
It was a nice chamber. Masculine. Large enough but not excessive. Just right for one person, she thought. A little old in style, with dark wood panels coming up half the walls and also forming the bed. Shadows tried to rise in her memory when she looked at that bed, but she filled her gaze and thoughts with other things.
Simple white drapes framed the windows and bedposts. None of it surprised her. It looked like him. He would not concern himself much with fashion. His garments were current, but his haberdasher probably claimed credit.
He closed another door. She saw beyond it enough to know it was his dressing room.
“Do you want me to undress?” she asked.
“Just stay there.” He took a key off his writing table and locked the dressing room. Then he stripped off his cravat.
They faced each other across the chamber. The bed loomed. The one lamp’s glow turned the white drapes golden. Her heart rose to her throat. He appeared so handsome there, with the low light flattering his face and form. Strong and deliciously masculine.
“Now you can undress.”
While he watched, apparently.
She had worn a pelisse dress with little buttons down the front. She worked at them, wondering if buried desire had made her choose such a convenient garment. It took a long time to finish with the closures, due to her fingers trembling. Finally she let the dress slip off her shoulders and down her body. His gaze followed its descent, then slowly rose back up.
She went to work on her undergarments. The longer it took, the more nervous she became and the more clumsy her actions. He enjoyed it, she realized. That made her slow enough that her disrobing might appear more elegant. She also discovered a pleasant sensuality in revealing herself like this, layer by layer.
Down to her chemise and hose, she bent to untie the latter.
“I would prefer if you saved those for last.”
That meant becoming naked before she was done. Blatantly so, and not while in bed or even being embraced. She steeled her courage and let the chemise drop.
She looked at him, so he might think her braver than she felt. Desire had tightened his expression and fired his eyes. His gaze captured hers and a thrill spun down her body. Then another. Like rockets, each one created an explosion of arousal that sent exciting sensations raining down.
He glanced down, reminding her of the hose. She stepped over to a chair to prop up her foot, untied one, and rolled it down. The implications of her pose, of her raised leg, stirred her deeply. While she set her foot down and raised the other one she noticed he had moved slightly to where he could view her exposure better.
So aroused that she could barely stand, she untied the other stocking and began removing it. Suddenly he was there, on one knee, right in front of her. He moved her foot to his other bent knee, and his hands to the roll of the stocking.
She looked down at his strong hands slowly moving the stocking down to her knee. His head dipped and he kissed her inner thigh. High up. Then another, higher yet. So high she felt his breath on her mound like a feathering tease.
She dared not close her eyes because she feared she might stagger or fall. So she watched his crown and his hands, and felt his kisses and came close to forgetting how to breathe herself. The kisses did not stop, but somehow the stocking was gone. Still he knelt there, caressing her leg too. Then he stroked high, and slid his hand between her thighs, into the dampness and heat he had caused. One deep, secret touch and the chamber spun. She had to hold his shoulders to keep her balance while he pushed her arousal higher and higher.
Kisses on her stomach, her hips. Caresses on her bottom, then sliding deeply forward. Maddened now, she fumbled with his shirt until she could push it down his shoulders and feel his skin. He removed it somehow, never pausing in what he was doing to her.
He turned her into the chair. “Sit here.” He pressed her hips until she sat, then moved her forward to the edge. He kissed her thighs again, and touched the center of her tortuous pleasure. “I want to kiss you here. Will you allow it?”
She nodded without understanding what he meant. She only knew she wanted whatever pleasure he could conjure, and was long past shock. Or at least she thought so until his head went low and she felt that kiss and an arrow of pleasure speared right into the throbs down there and every other sense ceased to exist except the one experiencing that.
It got worse and worse, better and better. She knew she moaned but did not hear herself. She knew he moved her legs so her feet rested on his shoulders, but did not see it. He lifted her hips and had better purchase, and devastated her with his tongue. The pleasure turned excruciating in the best way, compelling and climbing and growing ever intense. She thought she would die if she did not stop it, did not retreat. Instead, somehow the tight painful pleasure broke, snapped, and sent successive waves of astonishing sensation flowing out, creating a place where she lost herself completely.
* * *
He heard her fretful moans when she got close. His mind and tongue urged her on. When her scream sounded and her release flexed her body, he knew an exultant sense of victory.
He stood and watched her face while he undressed. She looked ethereal in her bliss. Almost girlish in her total contentment. He gathered her into his arms and carried her to the bed. She murmured something he could not hear or understand.
Once on the bed her eyes opened a slit. She scrambled atop him, straddling him like the last time. Sultry and still astonished, she looked down at him. She bent low and kissed him deeply, then sat up again.
He took her breasts in his hands and caressed lightly, lest she be too sensitive still. She smiled and threw back her head and leaned into it, so he might use his mouth. She moaned freely as he pleasured her, and soon squirmed on his hips.
Again she sat back, a little wild-eyed now, magnificently erotic. She looked down at his swollen cock and ran one finger up its length. He had to fight to maintain control. Proud of herself, she did it again and again, then experimented with a firm caress.
Having jumped off the mountain once, she could enjoy a leisurely second climb. He, however, could not take much more of this. Another time he would let her play as much as she wanted.
He lifted her hips. She understood and took him inside herself. He gritted his teeth as her tight warmth encased him. She began her slow rises and falls. He leashed his need and took what she gave for a good while, but his hunger finally turned savage. He pressed one hand on the headboard behind his head for leverage and took over.
Not so careful this time. He had no choice. His body howled with the need to thrust hard and deep and possess completely. His mind saw future takings in other ways, and those images only drove him on. The release, when he finally accepted it, proved cataclysmic.
She fell on top of him, into his arms, kissing his chest and neck, gripping his shoulders. Within his senseless ecstasy, he thought he heard her scream again.