Chapter Five #2
Tentatively, she reached over and touched his shoulder. The simple wool coat was soft and expensive, and she ran her hand over the fabric. Which meant she was touching his shoulder, his chest, the top of his back, the back of his neck.
“Is this all right?” she asked when he broke the kiss to move to her neck.
“Touch me wherever you like,” he murmured.
It felt good to touch him, to learn the contours of his body as well as she could through all his layers of clothing.
The fabrics were fine, though, and well fitted to his body.
He smelled good, too, like pine, maybe, or mint, it was hard to say exactly what it was.
What he did to her felt wonderful, too, the way he licked at her skin as if it were covered in sugar, the way his fingers splayed on her hip, the way he grasped her possessively.
She was his, technically, because they were married, but she found she wanted to be.
When her fingers went to the buttons of his coat because she had to know what his skin felt like underneath, he jerked way.
“Did I do something wrong?”
“No. No, not at all.” Owen sat up and tugged at the edge of his coat. “I loved what you were doing, but I’ll not have your first time be in a carriage.”
“Oh.”
“You are beautiful and very desirable, I must say. And I am eager to relieve you of your lovely gown when we finally arrive at the inn tonight, but for now, I believe we must behave ourselves.”
“Yes, of course.” Grace paused, feeling flustered. “Why?”
Owen shot her a sidelong glance. “I am rapidly forgetting, but it just seems… I mean, you are my wife, I like you a great deal, it feels…sordid. Cheap. To be with each other in that way in a moving carriage just isn’t right. Not to mention, the ride is quite bumpy. We may be more prone to injury.”
Grace couldn’t help but giggle. “Injury. All right.”
“Just trust me, my dear. We will both have a great deal more fun in a bed and not in the tight confines of this carriage rolling through the potholes of London.”
Grace reached over and took his hand. She held it in both of her own. “I trust you,” she said.
“Good. Now I suppose we must find a way to pass the time.”
Grace nearly laughed again at how ridiculous this all seemed. “Well, you said we could just talk. Maybe one of us could tell a story or something. Could you tell me about your childhood or your schooling? Or Wales? I know so little about Wales.”
Owen smiled. “Well, despite the amount of time I spend in London, I am rather fond of Wales…”
*
Owen led Grace into the Hound they’d be sleeping at the inn tonight, too, but in a less well-appointed room than this.
Owen had allowed his valet to stay behind in London, leaving him to take care of his pregnant wife, so Owen felt a bit like he was traveling with minimal staff.
But he was also capable of dressing and undressing himself, and he could hire someone in Caernarfon if he felt it necessary.
He was on his own now, for certain. He looked at his bride, who was taking in the room.
The four-poster bed had fresh linens, there were plush chairs for sitting, an adjacent room with a large bathtub should they decide to bathe in the morning, a table in the corner, a large painting of the university over the table. There was also a privacy screen near where the trunks had been set.
“This is nice,” Grace said.
“Our home for the night.”
She hung her cloak on a hook on the wall. “Well…”
Owen gestured toward the privacy screen. “I suppose this is the awkward bit.”
“Honestly, I would be glad to be no longer wearing these stays. Now I must determine which of the trunks contains my night rail.”
“Yes. I have night clothes somewhere as well, but I do not believe they will be much necessary. Only if you feel more comfortable.”
“What did you have in mind?”
Owen liked that a little edge had crept into her voice. “I could help you out of those stays.”
She raised an eyebrow, which might have been the sexiest thing Owen had ever seen.
*
Grace stood in just her shift, which she was pretty sure was transparent as she stood in front of the room’s fireplace. Owen, it turned out, was delightfully fussy, though, so he was carefully folding each item of his clothing as he took it off. He was down to just his breeches now.
“Owen, look at me.”
Owen stood up and turned around. He had a wide, muscular chest covered in dark hair. Grace hadn’t seen a nude man…ever, but she had seen stableboys without shirts on occasionally. That had not prepared her for the jolt of arousal her husband’s body sent through her.
She closed the space between them and put her hands on his shoulders.
“Are you stalling because you are nervous?” she asked. “Or because you find me repulsive.”
“I assure you, I do not find you repulsive.”
“But you are stalling.”
“I suppose. I feel some amount of pressure to make this feel good for you, but I can’t say I have some legendary reputation as a lover, so I am a bit at a loss.”
“Yes, but I have no reputation at all, so how would I know if you were a skilled lover or not?”
Owen raised an eyebrow. “You’d know. I’ll make sure you know.” Then he let out a little growl and kissed her.
It was hard not to feel vulnerable, standing as she was before him wearing nearly nothing.
When Owen put his hands on her waist, his skin felt hot against hers.
But she found, oddly, that she trusted him.
She barely knew this man, but he’d only ever been kind to her, and he was handsome and strong and something about the way he kissed her made her skin tingle.
“May I touch you?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said breathlessly. “Everywhere.”
Owen’s kisses grew hungrier. He licked into her mouth and nibbled at her lip. She put her arms around him and played with the hair at the back of his neck as they kissed and was surprised by how soft it was.
Then Owen scooped her up and carried her over to the bed.
He lay her there and then he undid the buttons on his breeches.
“I don’t want to terrify you,” he said, pausing.
“You won’t.”
“I’m going to muck this up.”
“You won’t.”