Chapter Thirty #2
‘Do you know what I think?’ he murmured against the skin of her neck.
‘I think that these dresses you wear have been specifically designed to send me out of my mind.’ His mouth skimmed along her collarbone, stopping at the base of her neck.
‘These bows.’ He straightened, catching one of the ribbons on his thumb and forefinger.
‘Some days, they are all I can think about. Are they for show or do they hold the dress together?’
She swallowed. Maybe Christopher was toning down his wild ways, but maybe he was changing her too. The old her would have stopped this, but why deny him when it was what she wanted? ‘You could find out.’
His eyelids flickered, the only outward sign of surprise.
His grip on the ribbon tightened and slowly, achingly slowly, he began to tug.
The two of them watched his progress intently, their breathing harsh in the quiet room.
As the ribbon loosened, so did the binding of her dress.
His muffled groan as he saw the effect sent a bolt of desire through her.
Moving to the next one, he pulled again, more quickly this time, and again, until the last ribbon came undone, the dress loose around her frame.
For a moment, she held herself completely still, her whole body on the cusp of something delightfully new.
She shimmied and her dress fell to the ground, leaving her in her stays and petticoat.
He stepped back, his gaze raking over her body until his eyes found hers.
His pupils were blown wide, his look glazed.
The noise he made in the back of his throat made her feel as magnificent as he said she was.
‘You are perfection,’ he breathed. ‘Utter perfection.’
He wasn’t touching her, but her skin tingled all over her body, desperate to feel him against her.
He reached out, his thumb tracing the inside of her wrist, the underneath of her arm all the way to her elbow, her shoulder and around the back of her neck.
Her breasts ached, craving the same attention.
‘May I?’ His fingers brushed the bindings of her stays. She knew if she told him to stop, he would, but that was not what she wanted. After the agony of the last few weeks, this coming together was bliss, her whole body sighing in relief and joy at his touch.
‘Yes,’ she said, her voice hoarse, barely sounding like her own.
The soft swish of the bindings being untied sounded loud in the room, but she forgot all about it as the stays came apart and he pulled them from her body. Cool air rushed over her skin, but she did not feel cold.
‘Beautiful,’ he murmured into her hair. ‘You are divinely beautiful.’
His thumb traced over her hip, the curve of her stomach, the dip of her waist, the underside of her breast. Her knees buckled as sensation swept through her. His arm tightened around her, holding her steady. ‘I have you,’ he said.
His hands moved over her, gently at first but more demanding as she moulded into his touch; the murmurs she made, the ones that made no sense, seemed to urge him on.
His mouth covered hers and their kisses became frantic, desperate things.
Her petticoat went the way of her stays, his secure arm around her waist the only thing keeping her upright as she became pliant in his arms.
She had no idea how long they stood there, their hands learning each other, no thoughts in her head as he slowly sent her out of her mind.
Her fingers were splayed against the skin of his stomach when the soft brush of his fingers against her centre had her jolting in surprise. His hand went away immediately.
‘Do you want… I stop?’ His voice was slurred, like he’d been drinking.
‘No.’ She already missed the touch, strange though it had been. ‘More.’ She couldn’t speak properly either.
She felt his laugh against her chest, but his mouth was already back on hers, his hand moving over her, teasing her flesh, making her cry out against him.
Her hands pressed into his skin, searching for something to hold on to.
Nothing had prepared her for this, the absolute pleasure Christopher could give her with his mouth and his clever fingers moving over her.
The rest of the room became a blur, falling away until it was only him and the way he was making her body sing.
His touch was building towards something, becoming ever more intense with every pass of his fingers, until she was clinging to him, crying out against his mouth as everything splintered into a thousand pieces.
When she came back to herself, he was still kissing her gently, holding her lightly against him.
‘Oh,’ she whispered against his lips.
She sensed his mouth curve into a smile.
‘That was…’ There were absolutely no words to describe what had happened. She felt powerful, wonderful, more beautiful than ever before.
‘That was married life,’ he said, a hint of longing in his voice.
‘Is there…? Can I make you feel like that?’ In everything that she had learned of the marriage bed, she had not understood that it would feel anything like that, that it could be that joyous. She hadn’t even made it to a bed at all.
‘After we are wed, yes, and more probably.’
‘Should we have the wedding tomorrow?’ She was desperate to give him the same pleasure in return.
His laughter burst out of him, stopping his lips from skimming over her forehead. ‘Should I have done this two weeks ago?’
‘It would have made me a lot less sceptical about our marriage being a good idea or not.’ Some sense of herself was coming back to her, even though she still did not want to let go of him.
‘If only I had known,’ he murmured. ‘I would have saved myself a great deal of torture. Although… now that I know about the bows, it might be worse. I shall forever know what one or two tugs on the end of the ribbons will reveal. I shall not be fit for polite society ever again.’
It was good to have laughter between them once more. She hadn’t realised how much she had missed their flirtatious teasing until it was back between them.
He helped her back into her stays and petticoat, but there was little point in putting the dress back on; she intended to wear something else for dinner anyway.
It was strange to think she would have to sit down to a formal meal after what had just happened.
She did not know if she would be able to look anyone in the eye, although she supposed she could keep her gaze on Christopher alone. No one would question that.
‘Christopher,’ she said, as he made to leave.
‘Yes?’
‘I think you are right. I do not think this marriage is going to be boring after all.’
His answering grin set her heart alight.