Chapter Ten #2
She kissed his cheek. “I tried to prepare for anything. But nothing could have warned me about this.” She raised her arm in an arc toward the sky. “About a man who would bring me to the roof and show me another planet.” She kissed his lips. “And the stars.”
Timothy gazed at her, then slowly eased her back with one arm behind her as the other gather pillows to form a cushioned bank at her back. “I wanted to find a way to make this night as special as you are, my remarkable love. Then the skies showed me that way.”
Elspeth shuddered, a combination of chilly air and anticipation. “I-I am not very attractive.”
Timothy paused, his eyes widening a moment, then his expression relaxed. He stroked her cheek, then reached and brought her braid forward over her shoulder. “My darling, I have a thesis for you to consider.”
“All right.”
He counted off on his fingers. “A. I have been a rapscallion from a rather young age. True?”
Elspeth fought a grin, trying to remain serious. “True.”
“B. And for many years a rogue who bedded some of the most beautiful women in the world. True?”
That one stung. No need to pretend. Instead she stared at her lap. “Yes.”
“C. Therefore I am an impeccable judge of the quality of women’s beauty and character. True?”
She looked up at him, unsure. “I would say that would be a reasonably accurate statement.”
“Then will you accept as truth that I find you one of most ravishing women I have ever known. Your beauty, character, and intellect are beyond compare, and I will tolerate no statements to the contrary from anyone.” He kissed her forehead. “Not even you.”
“Even though, in this instance, you are rather biased?”
He shrugged as he traced the neckline of her night rail with one finger.
“Bias is not always a bad thing. For instance, if Mrs. Dove-Lyon had not been biased toward me, she might have chosen competitions in theology or cultures of sub-Saharan Africa. I am sure Ella told her about my experiences swimming.” He lifted her braid, slipped the ribbon from the end and began to separate the strands.
“Livingstone assumed the gardener was one of the wolves. I was too ignorant not to ask.”
He kissed the side of her neck, then his tongue brushed the lob of her ear. “Do you really wish to talk about this?”
Elspeth’s breath caught as a frisson of desire blushed down her chest. “No.”
“Good.”
His mouth found hers as the tresses of her hair fell free, flowing down her back.
He cupped her face with his hands, his kiss deepening as he eased her down into the pillows.
The energy that surged through Elspeth, down her torso and into her thighs, made her skin tingle, as if she were on fire.
She pressed deeper into the bedding as he loosened the ribbon at the top of her night rail, his fingers slipping to brush lightly over her nipples.
Desire speared through her, and the wetness between her legs seemed to bloom with a heated craving.
Elspeth had pleasured herself many times in the past, but nothing she had done had ever felt this driving or created an aching need for more. She pushed at Timothy’s banyan, and he paused only long enough to doff both it and his shirt underneath.
As the clothes fell free, he tugged at the side of her night rail. “Let us get this off as well.”
She hesitated, the early hesitations about him seeing her body rushing back in, even as she avoided looking at his. “Can we not keep—”
“No.” One word, firm and determined. He then kissed her temple, a gentle action Elspeth suspected she would come to crave as much as his touch elsewhere. “I want to see you,” he whispered. “Let me help you.”
Now Elspeth did look as he moved down close to her feet.
She had been to museums, of course, and a few boxing matches with her friends, but she had never seen a man completely naked, and Timothy’s form fascinated her, with his muscular arms and legs and the sleek lines of his torso.
Nothing jiggled or jostled about his body—except for the parts between his legs, which were already changing from soft and pliant to a harder, less giving form.
She stared, studying him, until Timothy chuckled.
“I will show you what that is all about in a bit.”
Elspeth felt the heat rise in her face. “Sorry.”
He shook his head. “Do not be. We will spend many hours discovering each other, learning what brings pleasure . . . or not.”
Still watching her face, he slipped his hands beneath the hem and let his fingers dance along her calves, an action both tickling and alluring. She squirmed a bit as he gathered the cloth, ruching it up toward her hips, dropping light kisses on her thighs as he did so.
“Lift your rump.”
She did, and in mere seconds, her night rail joined the banyan and shirt to the side of the mattress.
Timothy knelt between her legs, stroking her thighs, his gaze wandering over her, inch by inch.
After a few moments, he spoke, his voice hoarse with emotion.
“As I anticipated, you are a woman of great beauty and extraordinary joy. I wish you could see through my eyes. To see how remarkable you are.”
Elspeth’s eyes stung with tears. No one had ever even called her pretty, much less laved her with such elegant words. “I wish I could see it.”
“You will. I will show you.”
He leaned forward, kissing her in random places—her stomach, breasts, neck, thighs—each one partnered with a slow and gentle caress of his fingertips.
Elspeth’s senses lit afire as her arousal built slowly, heat growing beneath her skin and between her legs.
She felt the wetness there spread, a familiar warmth that emboldened her.
Elspeth had been unsure what to do at first, but now she reached for him, running her fingertips over his shoulders and down his back.
When he closed his teeth on one nipple, sucking lightly, she moaned, her back arching as she slid one hand into his curls.
He moved to the other nipple, this time sucking hard, pulling it deep into his mouth, pressing it against the roof of his mouth.
She whimpered, her body writhing with the pleasure.
“Yes, my love, higher.” Timothy licked from the middle of her chest down to her sex, blowing a stream of warm air over the damp curls, tracing the wetness of her slit with his finger.
As she moaned, he separated her folds, exploring them with firm strokes.
Waves of pleasure rolled over her, sending every nerve firing.
Elspeth clamped her hands over her mouth, fighting a fierce scream as he entered her with one finger, then two.
A scream not of pain but of a pleasure more exhilarating than she had believed life could be.
He paused, looking up at her face. “Are you in pain?”
She raised her head, shaking it furiously.
“Would you like for me to stop?”
She gasped. “Only if you want to die!”
Laughing, he moved his fingers about, in and out, then twisted his hand slightly as he added a third finger.
It was a renewal, a broadening, an expansion of her pleasure, and she could feel her climax building, closer, ever closer.
Then, with a sudden move, Timothy withdrew his fingers and moved over her, guiding his cock towards her entrance. With a slow but steady thrust, he entered her.
Elspeth jerked, startled, watching him even as he watched her.
“Did it hurt?”
She shook her head. “Pressure. Not pain.”
“Good. If it ever hurts, you tell me.”
“I will.”
The intensity of her pleasure had ebbed as he had taken her, but his touch on her breasts, the movement of his hips brought it back in full force.
She never would have believed that every touch, every thrust could bring nothing but the most splendid pleasure.
She wrapped her arms and legs around him, hoping to hold him ever closer.
Timothy watched her, his blue eyes—those eyes!—alert to her every response. As her breathing deepened, her heart racing as her peak closed in, he slipped a hand between them, between her legs, his thumb finding the swollen bud at the top of her sex, pressing hard.
Elspeth’s world seemed to shatter. Her body bucked and shuddered as waves of drowning pleasure cascaded through her. She cried out, a moan borne deep inside her, her head pressing hard into the pillows.
For a moment, Timothy continued to thrust, but he too gave a low cry, and he pulled away from her, rolling to one side as his seed spent onto one of the blankets.
Even as her own pleasure still throbbed through her, Elspeth watched him, as the white fluid spurted from his cock.
“Why?” she whispered. It was the only word she could get out.
He shifted onto one side and gave her a silly, exhausted, and affectionate grin. “No children.”
“Ah.” She sighed and reached for him. “Hold me?”
He did, wrapping his arms around her. With a sigh of contented relief, she melded against him, absorbing his warmth, relishing the sensation of his strength, and inhaling an aroma of sweat, soap, and pine—which she found oddly erotic.
Or perhaps it was simply the man that she found erotic.
She nuzzled his chest, the dusting of dark hair there rough and sensuous against her cheek.
“Do you plan for us to spend all night up here?”
“As a matter of fact”—he swung his arm wide, his hand closing on the telescope—“I have more stars I want to show you. And Scorpius may be visible by now.”
Elspeth watched as her husband turned his telescope toward the sky, then she joined him. Together they looked up—and forward.