Chapter 16 #4
“I-I know,” she choked out, absurdly pleased he would take the time to explain it.
“You mean you’ve done this before?” he rasped, a note of incredulity in his voice. His fingers delved even deeper inside her with a silken stroke so delicious she arched against his palm.
“Wh-what?” She couldn’t think, could barely register the question.
The wild fluttering between her legs now pulsed like the beating of her heart, and his fingers only increased the tempo.
“Oh ... no ... I-I haven’t ... Lord Faringdon’s son described it ...
told me once ... what he wanted to do ... to me. But I didn’t ... let him ...”
His jaw tightened. “Lord Faringdon’s son is a dead man.”
At the sight of his thunderous expression, she couldn’t prevent the giggle that bubbled up through her throat. “Y-You’re jealous.”
“Not at all. You see, I have you and he doesn’t.” Still, he gave her a possessive kiss that nearly shattered her. It matched the possessive thrusts of his fingers, heightening the throbbing between her legs into an unbearable ache.
Which is why the sudden withdrawal of his fingers made her whimper in disappointment beneath his mouth. He ended the kiss with a chuckle. “Don’t worry, querida, your cravings will be satisfied. And so will mine, thank God.”
He sat down on the bed to drag off his boots, then stood and peeled off his trousers and his stockings.
Still kneeling on the frayed coverlet in her rumpled chemise, she watched him with disgraceful interest. How did he know that she craved something?
How did he know what it was when she didn’t even know herself?
Then he jerked off his small clothes, and she uttered a distinctly unladylike oath. The instrument that sprang proudly from between his muscled thighs was thick and rigid. That was what she’d been fondling? Oh, my Lord.
“Take off your chemise,” he ordered. When she flinched at the command, he added in a softer tone, “Please? I want to see you. All of you.”
When she still hesitated, transfixed by the sight of his naked member, he stepped close and caught her chemise in his hands, pulling it over her head in one swift motion. With sudden shyness, she sank back on her heels and crossed her hands over her chest.
“Don’t, querida. You’ve nothing to be ashamed of.” He drew her arms away from her breasts, and his eyes turned molten as they feasted on her body. “Nothing at all. Your body would make Venus cry with envy.”
Such poetic words from a man who generally hid his thoughts.
Yet he wasn’t hiding them now. Admiration shone in his face, sparking a most improper pride in her.
As a young woman, she’d cursed the female attributes that drew unwanted attention to her when she’d accompanied her father.
But now she secretly relished them, because they made Ian want her.
God preserve her, she’d fallen far.
And he clearly meant for her to fall farther still.
His mouth caught hers in a heart-stopping kiss, and his hands were all over her, fondling her waist and breasts and thighs with such expert care that she cooperated eagerly when he shifted her back to lie prone on the bed.
Then he knelt between her legs, looming over her like some brooding creature of the dark, every inch of his body taut with his need.
She felt open, exposed fully beneath him, but the sensation vanished when he bent his head to suck first one breast and then the other.
The fluttering between her legs began again, more urgent and piercing this time.
He read her body only too well, bracing himself off her with one hand while with the other he reached down to soothe where she ached with clever, pleasing strokes of his fingers.
Only when she writhed and groaned beneath him did he part her secret lips with his hand and guide his member inside her.
The intrusion shattered her exquisite pleasure.
“Good Lord, Ian!” The part of him pressing into her was larger and harder than she’d imagined.
“You can’t ... it’s not ...” She started to say “right,” but realized that wasn’t true.
It felt right, having him inside her like this.
Invasive, yes, and even unfamiliar ... but right.
“It will only hurt a moment,” he promised, inching further inside. A shock of hair dropped over his brow to shield his eyes from her, but the fierce set to his mouth made her worry he might be having a bit of trouble himself.
“Is it supposed to ... I mean—”
“Yes.” He flashed her a pained smile. “You’re a virgin, Felicity. And the first time a man enters a virgin, it’s like ... breaching a wall.”
The battle metaphor didn’t exactly comfort her. “You ought to know.”
“Actually ...” He paused in his movements, a spasm of both torment and pleasure crossing his face. “I’ve never had a virgin.”
“Well, you have one now.” She wriggled back and forth, trying futilely to find a comfortable position beneath him.
“Not for long, with you doing that,” he growled, then thrust boldly inside her.
A pinch of pain made her gasp, then was gone. But now he was planted so deeply inside her she dared not breathe, much less move. It wasn’t an entirely unpleasant sensation. Still, she would have thought there was more to lovemaking than this. “Ian ... is this ... are we ... done?”
“Done?” His shoulder muscles were strained taut from the effort of holding himself off of her, but he managed a smile. “Oh, no, querida. Though I think we can ... safely say the wall has been breached.”