Chapter 25 #2
She placed the tie of her wrapper in his hands.
“Pull,” she whispered into his ear, and took his earlobe into her mouth, stroking just behind it with the tip of her tongue.
He immediately complied. The wrapper opened, and he slid his hands inside around to her back, pulling their bodies together.
She could feel his rigid length just above her own heat.
He slid his arms toward her stomach and then up toward her breasts. Her thin night rail had never been the most seductive garment, as she chose plain, comfortable fabrics. But at this moment, she felt like one of London’s most sought-after mistresses. She was a vixen, and he was utterly obsessed.
He continued to massage her breasts, and her head lolled onto his shoulder. She almost cried out when he let go, but then he began to undo buttons down the front of her night rail. Her breath grew shaky as her confidence wavered. He would be the first to lay eyes on her bare body.
Cool air tickled the exposed skin, and he held her shoulders.
The hunger in his eyes gave her courage, reminding her that she was capable of being desired.
He pulled down her wrapper, letting it drop to the floor.
Slowly, his hands pulled at the fabric of her night rail, raising the hem inch by inch until he was fisting the fabric above her waist.
Her breath hitched as he pulled it up and over her head.
She stood naked in front of him. He returned her gaze for just a moment before pulling away to look at her figure.
What would he think? Compared to other women, her breasts had never seemed abundant.
But he growled, scooping them into his hands once more, and buried his face into them.
Inhaling, smelling her, he managed to speak. “This is heaven. You are heaven, Agnes.” He paused to run his tongue over her nipples. Prickles formed around each bud as, one at a time, he took them into his mouth.
“Look at you. Look at how your body responds. This is pleasure, this is passion, and you deserve all of it.”
The sensations overpowered her body. It was almost too much, but she had waited so long for this.
Her knees wobbled and she leaned into him to stay upright.
In an attempt to ground herself, she sought his mouth.
Her body realigned with his, and his hard length rubbed against where she ached, now in desperate need of soothing.
She hadn’t even realized she was moaning until Harry spoke over the echoes. “Agnes, that’s it, sweetheart, but you might wake the servants.” It was impossible to quiet her sounds, as her body made them on its own accord. She was possessed by her lust.
“Wait.” He immediately stilled, relaxing his hold on her. The wave had begun rushing over her, taking her higher with its tides, but she didn’t want to go alone. As she ground herself against his trousers, she remembered she was the only one undressed.
“Harry. I want more.”
The pressure on her waist returned and he chuckled. “Patience, my dear, I’m trying to give you more.”
“No. I mean I want to feel more of you. You’re still wearing clothes.”
He exhaled. “I guess that’s fair. One moment.” He gave her a kiss, filling his reserve of her.
He worked on the top buttons of his shirt, never removing his gaze from hers. A slow smile crept over his face. “I really cannot believe this is happening.”
“Why not, Harry? You’re an attractive man. Caring, too. I’m sure you’ve had lots of partners.” She spoke with a clear voice, hopeful he wouldn’t mistake the jealousy for dishonesty. The thought of him with another woman made her tense.
“Not so many.” He looked away just for a second, an instinct to hide his embarrassment.
She placed her hands on his chest, waiting for him to look back at her. “There’s nothing wrong with you or your past experiences, or lack thereof. But you are fumbling with your buttons. Let me help.” She swatted his hands away, and he rested them instead on her waist as she worked.
“You were distracting me. You’re gorgeous. I knew your mind was a beautiful thing, but your body . . . I’m at a loss for words. You would drive any man to delusion.”
“Except Richard.” She hadn’t meant to mention her late husband while standing naked in front of Harry. Though she had forgiven Richard for his secrecy, the insecurities still remained. Harry’s desire for her brought them to the surface so she could vanquish them once and for all.
He smiled. “I will amend my last statement then. You would drive any man crazy, unless he was already in love with his steward. But how fortunate we are that I am not.” He stroked the heat between her legs with one hand, moving the other to grip her rump. “I don’t even have a steward.”
His fingers spread her most intimate folds and her mind went blank. The piercing pleasure was more intense than what she had felt in the carriage. “I’m not done with your buttons.”
“Just an intermission, darling.” He walked her back to the bed and pushed her gently until she sat down on the edge. “There’s something I want to try. Let me know if you like it, but not too loudly. I don’t want Ward coming in here and having my head. I need it.”
“What do you—” before she could finish her sentence, his head was between her legs.
He didn’t meander. He didn’t hesitate. This was not the same trembling man with a sweaty brow she had calmed outside in the Skelton gardens.
He dove in, his tongue starting under her opening, licking his way to the top.
Given her limited experience, she did not know if he was skilled, but he was undeniably attentive.
“Oh . . . oh.” She could not find words amid the mounting ecstasy.
“Do you like it?” The warmth of his breath mingled with her own heat.
She moaned and flopped back onto the bed. He hooked her legs over his shoulders, leaving her open as she offered herself to him.
“You know I have a sweet tooth. I’ve been dreaming about tasting your honey for quite some time.
” He continued to lap her up, and she could do nothing but allow her body to writhe from delight.
His tongue stilled as if he were considering what to do next, and then she felt her pearl slide between his lips.
She had never known that such a small knot could command her whole body.
The pleasure rushed higher and higher though her body, leaving no place untouched. Invisible needles pricked her heels, cramps formed in her calves, and darkness overtook her vision. And then she broke. Pulse after pulse, she could feel her insides clench and release as she cried out.
When the fog finally cleared, she lifted herself up on her elbows to look at Harry.
“You still have your clothes on.”
“I do.”
“That’s hardly fair.”
“It’s not about fairness, Agnes. It’s about passion.”