Chapter Nine #3
The kiss went on and on, testing, tasting, until finally, he broke away to dip his head, placing little kisses along her collarbone, yearning to explore her skin further, and her body softened, relenting under his persuasive mouth.
He raised his hands to the ties at the back of her gown and slowly began to unfasten them, tugging them open, his need to see her naked becoming urgent now—almost painful, as his body strained to be closer to her. It had been too long.
Parting the material, he smoothed the back of her gown open, revealing soft skin for his palms to glide over.
Gently, he peeled the tulle off her shoulders and down her arms, savouring his uncovering of her, his movements slow, wanting to torture himself, feeling the heavy slug of his desire increase when she shivered beneath his touch.
He lowered his head to look at her as he edged the bodice down, lifting it over and away from her breasts, pushing it towards her hips. He took a long moment to look at her, her body quivering, and he made an appreciative sound in the back of his throat.
‘I have never seen anyone so beautiful,’ he whispered.
Her body had changed; it had softened and matured. She was more womanly. Her breasts were fuller, her nipples tantalisingly darker, her hips wider—all from carrying his child? Incredibly, that knowledge made him grow harder still.
She brought her hands up to the buttons of his shirt, and he watched her as she slowly unfastened each one, resisting the urge to help her.
He liked that she was undressing him. He wanted to revel in this moment, knowing that she wanted him.
She smoothed her palms over his shoulders, under the material, sliding it off, pulling it down his arms. He shucked it off at the last moment, casting it aside.
‘Bea, stand up, so I can remove the rest of your gown,’ he whispered.
He gripped her hand and helped her rise on trembling legs, allowing him to tug the material down, easing it over her hips, her bottom, until it gave way, and she gave a little gasp as the material sank to the floor, pooling around her stockinged feet.
She swayed backwards, her bottom hitting the table, and he brought his hands up to steady her, gripping her by the hips, holding her in place.
‘Edward,’ she whispered, a soft plea, her body trembling under the weight of his heated stare.
Still on his knees, he looked up at her as he ran his hands down to curve round the back of her legs. She bit her lip but she didn’t stop him and his pulse pounded hard.
His lips came down to trace the tops of her stockings, the slow, sensual caress of his tongue flicking over her soft, creamy skin, and her bottom slid back a little on the polished wood.
He wanted to taste her, so much. Would she let him?
Her legs trembled hard, perhaps realising the direction of his thoughts, his mouth—that he was seeking out her most secret places with erotic intent. He was giving her time to say no to the intimacy he was requesting—or give in to it.
‘I’ve never done this before,’ he whispered unsteadily. He had never wanted to until now.
And then he was there, his mouth at the juncture of her thighs. He looked up at her, and she nodded, giving him permission, and his blood roared in triumph.
His head dipped, and his tongue swept against her, the lightest touch, and she gave a shiver of incredulity.
He did it again and she cried out, as she grappled with his shoulders, her fingers delving into his hair, fastening him to her.
He groaned out his own submission as he gripped her thighs and tipped her backwards, so she lay sprawled across the dining table.
All restraint was gone. Ruthlessly, he pushed her thighs open wider and set to ravaging her with his mouth, and she came apart almost immediately, bucking wildly against the wicked flicks of his tongue, her body shuddering.
But he didn’t stop till he realised she was groping at his shoulders, trying to pull him up towards her.
He hovered over her, one hand braced on the table, as he drew the other across his mouth.
She stared up at him, in astonishment, in disbelief. Her face was flushed, her eyes bright.
He tugged her towards him, sliding her off the table, bringing her onto her unsteady feet, before swinging her trembling body up into his arms and carrying her up the stairs.
Edward lowered her down onto his bed and Bea stared up at him, biting her lip as he stood before her.
She thought she was in shock at the way he’d just kissed her, so intimately.
How good it had felt. She could still feel the delicious trail of his mouth on her thighs.
The lightest, most incredulous flick of his tongue curling around her most sensitive parts.
She blushed at the thought. To do something like that to someone, to be so intimate, he must like her, mustn’t he?
He stood over her, and she stared up at him as he reached for the buttons on the fall-front of his breeches, releasing them one by one, and she just lay there, watching.
Her excitement built, waiting for him to get himself free, knowing what was to come.
His eyes never left hers until he had released himself from the material, and then her eyes dipped, widened at the sight of him.
She moved her hands over her stomach, and up, her fingers roaming over the swollen swells of her breasts and her thighs parted restlessly.
It seemed to send him out of his mind. He pushed his breeches down to the floor and stepped out of them, before placing one knee on the bed, coming over her, his cock straining towards her.
He reached for her hand.
‘Bea, touch me,’ he said, taking her fingers and wrapping them around him.
His breathing halted, her own heart thudding in her chest. ‘Can you feel how much I want you?’ he whispered. She stroked him, and he shuddered.
When she moved her hand over him again, he stalled her. A muscle flickered in his jaw. He seemed to be fighting hard for control. ‘I do not want this to be over too soon,’ he said. ‘I need you.’
She lay back in surrender, offering her body up to him, letting him know he could have her, do anything to her. She was his.
‘Do you want me to touch you again?’ he asked.
Her hands stole up over his shoulders as he reached between her legs, touching her intimately, where his mouth had just been, looking down into her face, watching her reactions. She thought she’d had enough scrutiny to last a lifetime, but she didn’t mind his. This.
The touch of his hands was glorious, but she wanted more. Him. ‘Edward, I need you too,’ she whispered.
‘Thank God. I wasn’t sure I could hold out much longer,’ he said, and she laughed.
He brought his body down on top of her, so they were chest to chest, stomach to stomach, and he parted her legs with his knees.
He looked down into her eyes. Their breath mingled, suspended, and with one sure thrust he surged inside her, long and slow and hard, and she gasped at the perfect fit; the sweet shock of his body filling hers.
He paused, and her hand came up to hold his cheek.
‘All right?’ he asked, his voice unsteady.
She nodded. She wrapped her legs around his waist, encouraging him on, and holding her hips, he angled her so that with his next thrust, he could bury himself inside her sleek heat. Deeper. All the way in.
He kissed her, his tongue plunging into her mouth, just like he was pressing inside her body, and it had never felt so good.
She thought it must be the same for him, as he groaned.
His fingers curled round into her bottom, gripping on tight, moulding her body seamlessly to his, and she clung onto his shoulders.
She met him thrust for thrust, remembering now how to move, their naked skin pressed against each other, sliding against each other, damp with sweat.
Her hands slid over his back, tugging him closer, wanting more of him, all he could give, frantic now.
He was making her wild, and she thought her little gasps and sighs were driving him to distraction, too, as he moved faster.
His ruthless thrusts became more insistent, creating even more of a reaction, as their bodies thrashed together, seeking the release they both needed so badly.
‘Edward,’ she panted, a soft plea for satisfaction, and finally, he took her with him. She cried out her ecstasy and he came so fiercely, he roared out his intense orgasm as he erupted inside her, bowing his head against hers.
They stayed like that for a long while, Edward staring down at her, stroking her cheek, her shoulder, as they tried to catch their breaths.
What did he do to her? It had been more intense than before. She felt decidedly shaky yet finally sated for the first time since she’d walked back into his life.
The intimacy they’d shared had affected her deeply. It had been incredible. So right, as if their bodies were made to fit together, to be satisfied by each other.
It felt huge, what they’d just done. Yes, they had been out of their minds with need this time just as much as the last, but back then it hadn’t been a choice—they’d just fallen into bed together—whereas this time, they had both decided to do this again.
Did that mean he cared?
He lifted himself off and out of her, shocking her with the loss, and she sank her teeth into her bottom lip. He came to lie next to her, pulling her towards him, tucking her into his body.
Burying her head in his chest, she listened to the sound of his heart thumping and squeezed her eyes shut.
Her emotions were bubbling up beneath the surface, wondering what this meant.
Edward had spoken no words of love. Yes, he had been kind to her downstairs, giving her compliments, saying he was proud of her, but did that mean he cared for her?
For him, this night, what they’d just shared, might have just been about sex—about sating a need, like the last time.
Perhaps he was just doing what married people were expected to do to legitimise their union.