Chapter 22 #2
Augusta couldn’t have spoken if her life depended on it.
Her breath caught in her chest, her heart hammering wildly against her ribs as she looked up at him, completely trapped by his towering frame and the sheer, intoxicating gravity of his words.
Her pulse fluttered frantically at the base of her throat, her lips parted.
Heavens, she wanted him.
“Yes.” The word tumbled past her lips before she could stop it.
“Good,” he murmured.
With a sound that was half groan, half surrender, his arms came around her, one hand cradling the back of her head while the other settled on the small of her back, drawing her closer until she was pressed against the solid warmth of his chest.
His mouth crashed onto hers with a hunger that made her dizzy, demanding, desperate, as though he had been starving for this and only this since the moment they met.
Augusta surrendered to the kiss gladly, her hands finding their way to his shoulders, then higher, to tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck. It was softer than she had imagined, and the small sound he made when her fingers tightened there sent a pulse of heat straight to her core.
They broke apart reluctantly, both of them breathing hard, their foreheads pressed together as though neither could bear to put that much distance between them.
Something dark and hungry flashed in Hudson’s eyes. “You must be certain,” he said, his shoulders rigid with tension. “You have to know that this is something you want.”
“It is,” Augusta breathed. “I want this. I want you.” She laid a hand on his arm, feeling the muscle tense beneath her palm. “Unless you’ve changed your mind?”
“God, no,” he said, his voice rough. “I’ve lain awake night after night imagining this. Imagining you. Imagining us.”
An intense hunger flashed in his eyes before he bent to capture her mouth with his again. His hands settled on her waist, then slid higher, tracing her ribs through the thin fabric of her dress before coming to rest just below the swell of her breasts.
“I have been going out of my mind thinking about this. I want to taste every single drop of your pleasure, Augusta. I want to feel you trembling against my mouth until you have absolutely nothing left to hide from me,” he murmured against her lips.
“Don’t you dare hold back. Let me hear how much you need this. ”
“Yes,” Augusta gasped as his thumb brushed across her nipple, the light touch sending a jolt of pleasure straight to her core. “Yes, I…”
The words dissolved into a moan as his mouth replaced his hand, hot and wet through the fabric of her dress.
She forgot entirely that they were outside, that anyone could see if they came far enough.
Hudson made a sound of frustration. “Too many clothes,” he said, his voice rough with desire. “I want to see you. All of you.” His hands moved to the fastenings of her dress, his fingers deft despite his clear eagerness. “May I?”
Augusta nodded, not trusting her voice.
She had been undressed by maids and modistes and, on one memorable occasion, a particularly efficient nurse, but never by a man, never by hands that trembled slightly with want, never by a voice that had grown husky with desire, never by eyes that darkened with each new inch of bared skin.
The dress slipped from her shoulders, followed by her stays and chemise, until she stood before him in nothing but her stockings, no more barriers between his gaze and her sex.
The spring air was cool against her heated skin, raising goosebumps along her arms and across her breasts, but it was nothing compared to the heat of Hudson’s gaze as it traveled slowly, deliberately from her face to her feet and back again.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, the words emerging roughly, as though dragged from somewhere deep inside him. “God, Augusta, you’re so beautiful it hurts to look at you.”
The naked wonder in his voice made something in her chest twist painfully. She had been called pretty before but never with the raw honesty Hudson displayed. Never with the sense that her beauty was a gift he had never expected to receive.
“I want to touch you,” he said, his hands hovering just above her skin, not quite making contact. “Everywhere. I want to learn you, the places that make you sigh and the ones that make you scream. I want to worship you with my hands and my mouth and my body until you forget your own name.”
His eyes met hers, dark with want.
“Please,” she murmured.
A wicked smile spread across his face. “Oh, how I love hearing that word from your mouth.”
He lowered her to the grass with exquisite care, following her down until he was stretched beside her, one leg wedged between hers, his weight balanced carefully on his elbow.
His free hand moved to her breast, cupping its fullness with reverent attention before his thumb brushed across her erect nipple.
“You’re so responsive,” he murmured, his voice rough with desire.
“So perfect. The way your breath catches when I touch you here…” His thumb circled her nipple again, more deliberately this time.
“The way your skin flushes when I kiss you here…” His mouth replaced his hand, hot and wet on her sensitive flesh, drawing a moan from deep in her throat.
“The way you sound when I make you feel good…” His teeth grazed her nipple.
Augusta should have been embarrassed by his words, by the raw desire in them, by the way they laid bare wants she had never acknowledged, even to herself.
Instead, she felt only a fierce, answering hunger, a need to give as good as she got, to reduce him to the same state of desperate wanting that had her trembling beneath his hands.
“I want to touch you,” she said, her voice emerging more steadily than she had expected. “I want to make you feel good too.”
Something dark and hungry flashed in Hudson’s eyes. “You will,” he promised. “God, Augusta, you have no idea what you do to me…”
He moved down her body with deliberate slowness, pressing kisses across the curve of her breasts, the dip of her waist, the plane of her stomach.
By the time he reached the junction of her thighs, Augusta was trembling, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps.
“Beautiful,” Hudson murmured, his breath hot against her sex.
“So perfect. So ready for me.” His hands slid beneath her and lifted her slightly, adjusting her position until she was exactly where he wanted her.
“I’m going to make you feel so good, Augusta.
So good you’ll forget your own name. All you have to do is let go. Let me take care of you.”
Before Augusta could respond, Hudson’s mouth was on her, hot and wet and exactly where she needed him most.
The first touch of his tongue against her sensitive flesh tore a cry from her throat.
It was half surprise, half pleasure so intense it bordered on pain.
Hudson made a sound of approval, his hands tightening on her thighs as he settled into a rhythm designed to drive her steadily, inexorably toward the edge.
It was too much and yet not enough. Exactly what she needed and nothing like what she wanted. Her hands found their way to his hair, tangling in the soft strands, holding him to her as the pleasure built, a slow, steady climb that threatened to overwhelm her completely.
Hudson seemed to sense this, for his pace increased, his tongue circling her most sensitive place with deliberate precision while one hand moved to slide a finger inside her, then two, curling to stroke that spot inside that made her vision blur.
Pleasure crashed through her in waves, each one stronger than the last, each one drawing a cry from her throat that he swallowed with his kiss.
Augusta was vaguely aware of his name on her lips, of her hands clutching at his shoulders, of the moment his free arm wrapped around her waist, holding her to him as she trembled through the aftershocks.
When she could breathe again, she became aware of him watching her, his eyes dark with want.
He had given her pleasure with single-minded focus, had reduced her to a trembling, gasping mess with nothing but his mouth and his hands and the skill with which he had used them, and had asked for nothing in return.
It was, she thought distantly, the most generous gift she had ever received.
And every part of her wanted to feel it again… and again.