Chapter Seven #3
But the damned woman looked up at him with passion-drugged eyes and kiss-swollen lips, and he knew.
The same need etched upon her strawberries and cream features fired through his blood.
“I want you, William. Right now, in this moment, show me what it’s like to have a man desire me so much he can’t control himself.
” She offered a faint smile. “Show me why so many women risk scandal.”
“Gladly.” He fumbled at the buttons of his frontfalls as his hardened member pulsed with need. She was petite enough that he picked her up and leveraged her against the wall, holding her thighs while letting the tip of his hardened shaft brush against her center. “Are you certain?”
“Yes.” She looped her arms around his shoulders.
Her fingers at his nape encouraged him with slight pressure, and she sought his lips, lightly nipping the bottom one.
“My fiancé never went this far, but from the moment I met you, I knew you were different and not reserved. You would do what other men wouldn’t. ”
“Oh, God.” That gesture and her words nearly sent him over.
With one flex of his hips, he penetrated her body, buried his shaft deep in her warmth, easily breaking through that slight resistance of her innocence.
“Fuck me,” he whispered against her lips following her quick inhalation of breath.
“You feel so good, tight.” And damn if she wasn’t already so wet, even though he’d barely pleasured her. “Have I hurt you?”
“No.” She shook her head. “I had no idea.” Surprise shadowed her eyes behind the spectacles’ lenses. “You are so… large.” She wriggled her hips to better accommodate his girth, and that movement nearly became his ruination. “It makes me feel so…”
For once he didn’t mind her not finishing a thought. “This will go quick, for it has been a few months since I was with a woman.” Yet he knew this one time, this one coupling with her wouldn’t be enough.
Then there were no more words, for he couldn’t spare the strength. He dug his fingers into the soft flesh of her thighs, and as need raced down his spine and tingled through his stones, he pulled out merely for the heady rush that thrusting into her honeyed heat brought.
Over and over, he stroked into her body, taking, claiming, fusing… possessing. There was no doubt he was lost in the glory that was Charlotte, the petite menace he’d met a mere few days ago. The deeper he went, the more frantic and intense his thrusts became.
Her eyes shuttered. A blush stained her rounded cheeks.
A few tendrils of hair tumbled from their pins.
She burrowed her fingernails into his shoulders, and he welcomed the prick of pain, for it kept him as focused as he could be while losing himself in her.
When she locked her ankles and her heels dug into his backside, his hold on control snapped.
“So damned lovely,” he whispered as he pushed with ever more fervor.
The need to claim her became greater than everything else.
Knowing that he was her first made him smug and entirely too cocksure, but at least she’d not forget him, and damn it all, he wanted her all the more.
“Tell me you’re close.” His words were raw, ragged, propelled into being by emotions he refused to acknowledge let alone allow the space to grow.
“Close to what?” She restlessly tossed her head while her inner muscles fluttered around his length, ushering in the beginning of the end. “My sisters hinted, but never outright told me about this.”
“Never mind.” It was an honor and a privilege to teach her about coitus.
Nearly gone, William clenched his jaw, held back the urge to finish in order to slide a hand between their bodies.
When he found the slippery, swollen button at her center, he rubbed his fingers over it with varying degrees of friction.
Damn, I wish I had the time to finesse this.
“Oh, goodness.” Charlotte’s eyes rolled back in her head.
She bucked her hips, which buried him ever deeper, and he hissed out a warning.
All the while, he bedeviled that nubbin for all he was worth.
“William!” The cry startled them both, but there was nothing for it.
The butler would come running and that meant he needed to finish this and fast.
As she fell gently into her first release, he renewed his hold on her and gave himself over to ruining the hell out of her.
His strokes were frantic and hard. Too soon hot sensation raced through his stones and shaft.
He pumped as if it was his last work, hoping she’d reach bliss, and when her body stiffened slightly and she clutched at him in confusion, he grinned and claimed her mouth, taking her cry into himself.
Release crashed over him, through him, roaring along every nerve ending like a voracious beast—changing him.
Again and again, he pumped into her contracting passage even as his shaft pulsed and jumped.
For long seconds, he lost himself to the act of spending; it had been so long, and once his body had ceased the mad torment, he held her close, keeping her safe between himself and the wall.
“Ah, Charlotte.” There was no turning back from this point.
He’d irrevocably either done the stupidest thing in his life or the smartest, and where he’d go with her from here was still unknown.
But right now, he couldn’t have asked for a more perfect moment.
Except, once the madness cleared, he knew he hadn’t nearly rid her from his blood.
He would need more of her, and soon, beyond physical satiation.
Damn everything.
As his heartbeat returned to a normal pace and his breathing evened, he pulled slightly back from her to peer into her face.
A pink flush had overtaken her chest and cheeks.
It made her even more lovely, so he kissed her tenderly and softly, almost as a thank you for what she’d allowed him to do.
It was… sacred in a way, and he hadn’t felt such in a long time.
Finally, he set her on her feet, waiting until she’d steadied herself before releasing her. “Are you pain? Have I hurt you?”
“I am well. Sore, perhaps, but well. Floating, still.” She adjusted her bodice until it lay as it should over her swollen breasts, as he set his own clothing to rights. “What we did, what we shared just now was quite… something.” Her words were breathless but filled with awe.
A certain smugness came over him to know he’d affected her so much. “Are you angry at what we did?”
“Of course not. I enjoyed every moment.”
“I’m glad.” Before he could say anything else—or even apologize for ruining her in the heat of the moment—voices in the corridor beyond reached his ears.
Only a couple of maids, but he wasn’t ready to have this moment interrupted.
“Uh… perhaps we should indulge in tea, which is probably tepid at best now.”
Charlotte nodded. “I do need sustenance.”
“After that, I shall take you home. We will talk during the drive.”
“That is probably best, for I suspect I’ll be utterly useless for the remainder of the afternoon.” Without guile, she crossed the room then sat on one of the low sofas, reaching for the teapot.
Bloody hell. Slowly, the reality of the situation came home to him. What would happen now? He’d deflowered this woman—his fiancée regardless—yet he maintained at the back of his mind that he wasn’t in the market for a wife, even if he did, indeed, find her fascinating.
Why did life suddenly feel as if he’d fallen into a vat of treacle?