Chapter 12 #2
Her hands spread over his chest, and he sighed as she explored, combing her hands through the thicket of coarse hair, tracing it down the middle of his ridged abdomen to where it spread out again around his navel and then back up again to trace the paired tattoos of two birds with their wings spread to fly placed just below his collarbone.
Each bird was no bigger than the palm of her hand.
“What are these?”
“Swallows,” he said, holding back a groan when her fingertips skimmed along the tattooed lines.
Her head tilted to the side, dark hair streaming over her shoulder, and his palms itched to bury his hands in it. “Did it hurt to get them?”
“Yes. Very much so.”
“What do they mean?”
Unable to resist her nearness, his hand stroked her back and she shivered a little, eyes still focused on the tattoos.
“Swallows guide sailors home.”
“Oh.” Her eyes glowed down at him, and he feared he had said too much.
But instead of pursuing the question of swallows, she leaned down to kiss them, tongue tracing each line before moving down his chest to stroke her cheek against the hair she found there.
Her mouth followed her hands and she worked her way down his body, leaving trails of fire with each touch.
She kissed his hip and sat up to gaze down at him, hand hovering before resting on his thigh. Again, she put out a tentative finger to stroke him, and he groaned at the teasing pressure.
"Show me," she said. "Show me what to do."
Shaking a little, he took her hand and showed the motion, his hand over hers, helping her stroke up and down.
She squeezed, and his hand fell away, back arching.
Her strokes became more confident and she watched his reactions intently, dark hair tumbling over her shoulders, swollen breasts swaying with every motion as she hovered over him.
She leaned down to kiss him, and he knew she must taste herself on his mouth when her tongue met and danced with his.
It excited him almost unbearably, and he let his hand tangle in her silky hair as he ravished her mouth.
Unable to stand much more, he put his hand over hers again to direct her to move faster, grip harder, until the waves of pleasure overtook him and he shuddered in her arms.
He opened his eyes to see her watching him, and she leaned down to kiss him.
Without another word, their hands still joined on his cock as it slowly relaxed, he used his other hand to tug her down to lay beside him, her head pillowed on his shoulder, her dark hair spread across his chest as he cradled her to his side.
With a deep sigh and a faint smile on her lips, Penny slid into sleep as the firelight flickered across her bare skin, her hand settling against his belly as she relaxed.
Hugo fought sleep for as long as he could. He wanted to savor this time with her for as long as they had it. He had not taken her virginity to allow her to move on and return to society, find a new man to marry if she chose, but he would never forget this night.
When he was back at sea in his lonely bunk, he would imagine her hand on him whenever he touched himself. Always her.
The reality of a naked, satisfied Penny in his arms was even better than his dreams, and he pulled her even closer as he, too, fell asleep.
Penny woke slowly, feeling sticky and a little sore, but pleasantly so. It was the way she had used to feel after climbing a tree or bathing in the sea. A feeling that she had used her body the way it was meant to be used. The first light of dawn was just beginning to brighten the room.
She was still wrapped around Hugo, their limbs tangled together as they slept.
Unable to resist, she looked down and saw that his…
male part was swollen, as it had been the night before.
Feeling his eyes on her, she looked up and grinned at him as he leaned down to kiss her, his lips soft and gentle.
“Are you all right?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”
He smiled and shook his head. “I should have known you would not be burdened with maidenly fears.”
To her surprise, she wasn’t. What was there for her to fear when it was Hugo she had shared her body with? He would never deliberately hurt her or frighten her. She knew that down to her bones.
She snuggled closer, feeling as though all was right with the world, and let her hand skim idly over his body.
“Be careful.”
“Oh?” She held his gaze and grinned at him, her hand straying lower. “Should I be careful of the insolent member that has been prodding my bottom every morning?”
He laughed, then gasped when she grasped him in her hand, toying with him the way he had shown her the night before. “It was not all your doing. It, er, happens naturally in the morning.”
“Really? Do you wish me to stop?”
His eyes were already heavy-lidded with pleasure as he pulled her head down for a kiss. His lips skimming hers, he replied with two words.
“Don’t stop.”
Eventually, the rumbling of their stomachs forced them to rise from their bed. Penny sat up in bed to watch Hugo wash and dress, contemplating the birds tattooed on his chest. Birds that were the same as the hand-carved one he had given her the first summer after her illness.
When he had walked into the drawing room of her family’s townhouse in London while she half-lay on the chaise, she had wondered for a moment if she was delirious again. Her mother had laughed at her.
“Now that Boney is safely on Elba, Lord Hugo is here on leave. Can you not say hello?”
“Hello,” Penny had said. At the time, she had thought Kendal must have sent him on a duty visit, but she was warmed by his coming at all.
He had bowed first to her mother and then to her. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Montgomery, Miss Penelope.”
“Good afternoon, Lord Hugo,” Mother had said. “How kind of you to call. Please sit down.”
They had exchanged only the briefest of commonplaces before Hugo looked at Penny.
She had had a moment of wishing she looked more attractive.
As it was, she had been propped into a sitting position on the chaise, a warm blanket over her lap and her short hair tucked under a practical cap.
She despised being an invalid, having to be carried downstairs if she wanted so much as a change of scenery.
Her strength was slow to return and her joints ached fiercely, and she had sometimes despaired she would improve at all.
“I brought you something,” Hugo had said.
Penny’s spirits had lifted. “You did?”
“Yes.” He had reached to his pocket and hesitated. “It’s not much.”
“I don’t care. Show me.”
With an air of reluctance, he had drawn a small paper-wrapped package from his pocket and given it to her. She had taken it with eager hands, tearing at the paper until it lay in shreds around the small object inside.
She had picked it up with clumsy fingers. It was a small bird carved from wood—driftwood, she thought. It stood poised on a branch, wings spread as though about to take flight.
“Oh, I love it.”
He had relaxed a fraction, and she knew he had been worried about her reaction. She had run her fingertips over it, feeling the small details carved into the smooth wood.
“Where did you get it?”
Color had risen in his face. “I, er … I made it.”
“You did?”
“Well, most of it. One of the older seamen who carves helped me with the finer details.”
Tears had pricked at Penny’s eyes, and she blinked them away. It seemed almost everything made her cry during her recovery. “Thank you, Hugo.”
“You are welcome.” He sat for another moment and then had risen to his feet with a glance at her mother. “I must return to Whitehall now, and I don’t wish to tire you any more than necessary.”
Penny had nodded, already feeling her eyelids droop. Other than the pain, the fatigue had been—still was—the most frustrating part of her recovery. She had scarcely been able to sit upright for ten minutes at a time before wanting to sleep once again.
Her hand had closed around the bird, feeling the smooth edges press into her skin. Reminding her she was still alive, no matter what had happened.
And now... here they were. Together in this tiny room.
He had not said he loved her, but she knew he must. His actions, not only today, but through the years they had known each other, showed he must care for her.
It humbled her to think how long he must have cared, even knowing she was promised to his brother.
He finished buttoning his waistcoat and turned to smile at her where she sat up in the bed. “Your turn.”
His smile faded a little as she continued to look at him, a flush climbing his cheeks. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” she said, and stretched her arms out to him, letting the quilt drop to her waist. “Kiss me.”
He laughed and crossed to her. “Only for a moment. We need food as well.”
She nodded and reached out for him as he came to her. She did not know what they were to do. She did not know what she wanted from him going forward. But for now, she never wanted this time together to end.
She would worry about the future when the snow began to melt.