Unwelcome Discovery #2
He turned toward her, stalking forward until she was pinned between his body and the cool plaster of the wall, his hands bracketing her head.
The scent of him, sandalwood and something inherently masculine, filled her senses and stole her breath.
Her heart hammered against her ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the sudden, desperate yearning that coursed through her.
She wished he’d step closer, and, paradoxically, yearned for him to retreat.
“Prove it,” he breathed, his voice a low, gravelly rasp that sent shivers down her spine.
“How could I…?”
He lowered his head, his breath warm against her neck as he pressed a soft, lingering kiss just below her ear. A jolt of pure sensation shot through her, setting her nerves alight.
“H-how would this…prove anything?” she managed, her voice a shaky, breathless plea.
His lips trailed a burning path along her jawline, pausing at the sensitive hollow beneath her ear, then moving to the other side of her neck.
“I’ll know if another man has kissed you, has been inside you… if you’ve reached your peak recently,” he murmured against her skin, each word a deliberate caress.
“Wh-what does it matter?” she protested, the heat of his mouth blurring her thoughts. “We lead entirely separate lives.”
He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, his gaze dark and possessive. His attention dropped to her mouth, then back to her eyes. “Are you saying you would find no consequence if I were to become intimate with another woman?”
The thought landed painfully in her chest, but she didn’t want him to know that now. “I… I don’t know, Charles,” she managed, her voice a breathless whisper.
His gaze dropped, lingering on the curve of her lips as if he tasted them already. Slowly, deliberately, he leaned closer, his breath a warm caress against her ear. “Close your eyes, Amelia.”
“Why?”
“Do it and you shall see.”
Hesitantly, she did his bidding. She felt his warm body more acutely, his breath on her temple, and the heat of his hand on the small of her back.
“Imagine my mouth on another woman’s breast…” His voice was a low, seductive murmur. “…tugging, suckling, exploring…”
A shiver traced its way down her spine, heat blossoming low in her belly. The image he painted was vivid, unsettlingly arousing.
“Then imagine my hand…” He punctuated the words by boldly cupping her bottom, his fingers kneading the soft flesh.
A low groan rumbled in his chest, a primal sound that resonated deep within her.
“…pulling her close, molding her against me as I slide inside her, deep and slow.” He pressed against her, his arousal a hard ridge against her abdomen, a blatant and undeniable claim.
“Charles…” The name escaped her lips, a plea and a protest all in one.
“Tell me, Amelia. Would that truly mean nothing to you? Knowing another woman feels me inside her?” His breath was hot and ragged against her cheek, his grip on her hips tightening as he began to subtly grind against her, igniting a firestorm of sensation.
“No. I… I don’t want you with another woman,” she whispered, the words tumbling out in a rush, driven by a sudden, fierce possessiveness.
His mouth left her ear to trail scorching kisses down her throat. “Tell me then, Amelia. Where should I find my pleasure? With whom should I satisfy this… this aching that you’ve stirred?”
His fingers, no longer gentle, worked with practiced skill, loosening the ties of her bodice. The thin fabric parted, revealing the swell of her breasts, the dusky peaks straining against the confines of her thin chemise. He sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes devouring her.
Impatiently, he attacked the fastenings of her corset, reaching up to the bottom of her breastbone, his knuckles brushing against her sensitive skin.
When the whalebone finally yielded and fell away, he exhaled on a strangled gasp.
Her breasts, unbound, rose and fell with her quickened breaths, the cool air raising gooseflesh on her flushed skin.
The raw hunger in his gaze sent a jolt of pure, untamed desire through her veins.
“Amelia… hellfire… I shall wither with longing if you deny me.” His voice, roughened with desperation and edged with a hint of raw frustration, sent shivers dancing across her skin.
“Tell me where, Amelia. Where should I seek release from this torment you have ignited?” He lifted his gaze, pinning her with an intensity that stalled her breath.
“Me,” she said, her voice fueled by desire. “Your wife.”
His mouth claimed hers then, a brutal, possessive assault that banished all hesitation, all restraint. This was a claiming, a demanding, a desperate plea disguised as a ruthless conquest.
Amelia met his onslaught with equal fervor, her fingers tangling in the thick silk of his hair, pulling him closer, arching her body against his.
All the pent-up tension, the unspoken desires, the carefully constructed barriers they’d erected between them, shattered in that instant, igniting like dry tinder consumed by a raging inferno.
His arms tightened around her and lifted her effortlessly. He carried her to his quarters, his steps sure and steady, the only sound the soft rustle of their clothes and the frantic rhythm of their hearts.
*
The moonlight spilled through the tall windows, casting a silvery glow on Amelia’s cheeks as Hereford’s hands moved urgently over her.
His fingers fumbled with the delicate lace of her chemise, his breathing ragged with desire.
When she stiffened, her hand flying to cover her leg, he caught her fingers roughly, bringing them to his mouth.
He pressed heated kisses to each one, his eyes dark with passion.
She lay before him in her chemise and stockings, a vision of pale skin and soft curves.
Her waist was small, accentuating the generous flare of her hips that made his mouth go dry.
Her shoulders were narrow and delicate, a stark contrast to the full, round breasts that strained against the thin fabric of her chemise.
Unable to resist, he cupped her breasts, feeling their weight in his palms. He squeezed gently, relishing the way she gasped, and felt his arousal grow even more insistent. “How did I not notice these before?” he murmured, awestruck. “They’re impossible to miss.”
She turned her head away, a blush creeping up her neck. Her shyness only inflamed his desire further, his manhood straining uncomfortably against his trousers.
“I usually bind them with linen,” she said softly.
He raised an eyebrow.
“Easier to see and maintain my balance,” she added.
Nodding, he loosened the straps of her wooden leg and set it carefully on the floor. When she hid the stump under the blanket, he gently massaged the sore flesh through the counterpane, wanting her to know he accepted every part of her.
“You are strikingly beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.
“Even my… injured leg?” she whispered, her eyes downcast.
“Especially your injured leg. It shows your strength,” he said and pulled her in for a kiss.
He gathered her against him, reveling in the feel of her soft curves pressed against his hard planes.
His hands roamed freely over her body, claiming what was rightfully his.
He squeezed her taut flesh with one hand while the other tugged at her chemise, slowly revealing more of her creamy skin.
His teeth grazed against her throat and earlobe, eliciting a soft moan that sent a jolt of desire straight through him.
His mouth devoured hers hungrily, pouring all his pent-up passion and longing into the kiss.
As he explored her body with reverent hands, Hereford marveled at how right this felt, how perfectly she fit against him. He silently vowed to worship every inch of her, to make her forget any doubts or insecurities. Tonight, he would show Amelia just how beautiful and desirable she truly was.
His own clothes became an unbearable barrier, each button and fastening a maddening obstacle between them.
Hereford tore at his cravat with clumsy fingers, yanking it free and casting it aside without care.
His waistcoat followed, buttons scattering across the floor as he wrenched it open, his hands shaking with the force of his desire.
The fine linen of his shirt clung damply to his skin, and he pulled it over his head in one swift motion, desperate to feel nothing between himself and Amelia’s touch.
He managed to release her long enough to stand up and remove his breeches, which proved equally troublesome in his fevered state, and he cursed under his breath as he struggled with the fastenings, his usual composure completely abandoned in his urgent need to be free of every constraint.
He watched her eyes widen and lips part as his hard length sprung free. The wonder and lust in her eyes had blood pooling in his groin.
She lay still, staring up at his chest, her eyes wide and luminous in the moonlight. He stood, bared to her gaze, his heart pounding in his chest. She swallowed, the delicate movement of her throat drawing his attention.
“I’ve heard rumors you’re…beautiful,” she breathed, her voice a husky whisper.
A wry smile touched his lips. “I hope I don’t disappoint.”
She shook her head, her gaze unwavering, and he finally allowed himself to succumb to the desire that had been building between them for weeks.
He enveloped her frame in his arms, his hands instinctively finding the generous curves of her bottom, kneading the soft flesh.
His other hand cupped one of her breasts through the thin chemise, feeling the taut nipple harden beneath his palm.
He lowered his head, taking one rosy peak into his mouth. He sucked, teasing and grazing the sensitive flesh with his teeth, delighting in the sharp intake of her breath, the soft moans that escaped her lips.