Regency Historical - Love And The Single Heiress Part 20

Heat rippled down to her toes. "We started out with different objectives, yet here we are, with the same results. Although I wonder how that can be as I've yet to try to seduce you."

He turned his head and pressed a heated kiss against her palm. "If that is so, then G.o.d help me should you put a bit of effort into it. But fear not. You've thoroughly succeeded without expending any effort."

"Indeed? How? What have I done?" Lord knows she wanted to know so that she could do it again.

With his gaze steady on hers, he clasped her hand, pressed another kiss against her palm, then touched his tongue to the spot. Her breath caught, and her eyes widened.

"That,"he whispered. "The way you respond to my touch. The way you breathe in, and the heat that flares in your eyes. Very seductive. And this..."He drew her into his arms then leaned forward and flicked his tongue over her earlobe. A shudder ran through her. "... the way you tremble when you find something pleasurable. And this..."His lips skimmed across her jaw, before his mouth settled on hers for a soft, teasing kiss that had her lifting her face for more. "... the way your mouth feels against mine. The way you want more, just as I do."

He reached up and slowly pulled the pins from her hair. "The way your hair feels sifting through my fingers." Catherine felt her hair fall loose from its chignon and tumble down her back and over her shoulders. After gathering a handful of long, loose curls in his hand, he buried his face in the strands. "The scent of flowers that clings to your hair and skin. Ah, yes, then there is your skin..."

He brushed her hair over her shoulder, then trailed his fingertips slowly down her neck. "The pale perfection. The velvet texture. The alluring fragrance... that teasing hint of floral that makes me want to remain no more than an inch away from you so as not to draw a single breath that isn't scented with you." He lowered his head and brushed his mouth over the sensitive juncture where her neck and shoulder met. "Pure seduction."

Her fingers clenched against his jacket, and a low rumble of pleasure trembled in her throat. "That sound you make when you're aroused," he said, his words vibrating against her skin, "is one of the most seductive things I've ever heard."

"One of?" she asked in a breathless voice she barely recognized. "What is the most seductive thing you've ever heard?"

He lifted his head and stared directly into her eyes. "Your voice. Asking me to make love to you."

Warmth filled her cheeks. "I'd never said those words before."

"Just one more of the countless ways you seduce me, Catherine. You know how I like being first."

"Then you'd best prepare yourself, because I've a feeling I'm going to experience many more firsts tonight."

"As will I."

Her eyes widened slightly. "You mean you've never-?"

"No, I'm not saying I've never been with a woman, although it has been... a while. But I've never been with anyone I wanted this much. Or anyone whom I wanted to please more. Or anyone who pleased me so very much."

Catherine swallowed, certain that her hold on his shoulders was the only thing keeping her from slithering to the floor in a quivering heap. "I hope I please you, Andrew. I want to, but-"

He silenced her by touching his fingers to her lips. "You will, Catherine. Don't doubt it for even a second."

His expression made it clear he believed it, but a spate of self-doubt and insecurity suddenly a.s.sailed her, and before she could stop herself, she blurted out the painful truth. "I'm afraid I cannot help it. My husband found me... less than enthralling. He never touched me after Spencer was born. In spite of the fact that I was married for a decade and bore a child, I fear I'm woefully inexperienced." Her gaze searched his. "How can you be so sure I'll please you?"

"As I've told you, there are just some things that we know, Catherine. You and I are going to make beautiful love together. As for your inexperience..."He took one step back, then spread his arms. "Practice all you wish. Consider me at your disposal."

Catherine's heart pounded at the husky-voiced invitation, so ripe with sensual possibilities.

"Don't be shy," he said softly. "Or embarra.s.sed. It's just us, Catherine. The only other person in this room besides you is a man who wants nothing more than to grant your every wish and to please you. Tell me how to do that. Tell me what you want."

Words from A Ladies' Guide popped into her mind. Should Today's Modern Woman ever be fortunate enough to be asked "What do you want?" hopefully she will answer truthfully.

She licked her lips, then allowed her gaze to wander slowly down, then up his long, muscular length. When their eyes again met, she spoke the simple truth. "You make me want so many things, I'm not certain where to begin."

"Why don't I start by removing my jacket?"

She watched him shrug the dark blue material from his shoulders, and suddenly she knew exactly where to begin. Stepping forward, she grasped his cuff. "I want to do it."

He stood immobile, watching her, and for the first time in her life, Catherine removed an article of clothing from a man. The simple act of slowly slipping the jacket down his arms intoxicated her. When she finished, she held the garment, still warm from his body, against her chest. Her eyes slid closed, and she bent her head to breathe him in. "You smell delicious," she murmured on a sigh. "Sandalwood mixed with something else I can't name. But it's a clean, masculine scent that belongs to you alone."

Andrew stood perfectly still, spellbound by her words and the sight of her cradling his jacket against her. G.o.d knows he'd never been more sincere than when he told her he wanted only to please her, but he didn't have a b.l.o.o.d.y prayer of surviving the rest of the night if she brought him to his knees just by holding his d.a.m.n jacket.

Her curious gaze traveled again down his body, and he had to clench his hands to keep from reaching for her. "You worry about your ability to please me," he said in a tight voice, "yet you can seduce me with a single look."

Her gaze jumped back up to meet his, and he clearly read the flare of confidence that lit her eyes. After carefully setting his jacket on the floor beside her, she brushed her fingertips over his loosely knotted cravat. "I want to undress you," she whispered.

He swallowed and attempted a half smile, but wasn't at all certain he succeeded. "I'm all yours."

"I'm not certain how all these garments work."

Giving in to the overwhelming need to touch her, he traced his fingertip over her cheekbone. "Not to worry. I'll help you."

She applied herself to his cravat, and he stood in an agony of want, warring between his body's need simply to shove aside their clothing and make fierce love to her now, and watching, feeling the stunning miracle of her removing his clothes. The blooming confidence and wonder in her eyes as she dispensed with his cravat, then slowly unfastened his shirt. When she reached his waist, he pulled his shirt free of the confines of his breeches, then held his breath.

She slowly separated the linen, then placed her hands on his chest. Heat arrowed through him, and he pulled in a quick breath. An expression of utterly feminine delight crossed her features, and she slowly dragged her hands downward. He wanted to watch her, but his eyes slid closed of their own volition, and a growl of pure pleasure escaped him as he memorized the intense sensation of her touching him.

"Do you like that?" she whispered, her fingertips grazing his nipples.

"G.o.d, yes."

Her hands slipped down over his abdomen, and his muscles contracted. "You like that as well?"

"Yes."The word was a raw rasp. He forced his eyes open to watch her, her hands growing bolder with each pa.s.s over his skin. Everywhere she touched felt as if she'd scorched him. Need roared through him, and his erection jerked inside his tight breeches. After gliding her hands back up his chest, she pushed his shirt off his shoulders and down his arms. He pulled his hands free and dropped the garment to the floor.

She ran her hands over his bare shoulders, then down his back, and he gritted his teeth against the pleasure. "You're very strong," she said, her warm breath caressing his chest.

A shudder shook him. He felt anything but strong. His insides were shaking, and his knees were... gone.

She slid her arms around his waist, then stepped forward to rest her head against his chest. "Your heart is beating almost as fast as mine, Andrew."

Before he could reply, she looked up at him with solemn eyes. "I want you to undress me."

Since he wanted that more than he wanted to draw his next breath, he didn't hesitate. "Turn around."

Standing behind her, he combed his fingers through her long, l.u.s.trous chestnut locks, brushing the strands over her shoulder to expose her pale nape. Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to that soft, fragrant bit of skin that had haunted a thousand dreams and countless waking moments. A delicate shiver trembled through her, and she tilted her head to the side, an invitation he didn't even attempt to resist.

After brushing a lingering kiss to her sweet nape, he stepped back and set to work on freeing the b.u.t.tons down her back. As each ivory round was freed from its loop, he was rewarded with a tantalizing peek at the thin chemise beneath. When he finally finished, he moved to stand in front of her. Her color was high, and desire shimmered from her golden brown eyes. Reaching out, he slowly pushed the garment over her shoulders. It slipped down her arms, then over her hips to land with a soft shush at her feet.

His avid gaze raked over her, so achingly beautiful, clad in a chemise so sheer he could see her dusky nipples through the material. Hooking his fingers under the cream-colored straps, he inched the garment down, tracking its progress as each delectable inch of her skin was revealed. When he released the straps, the chemise pooled at her feet on top of her gown.

For several seconds he stood immobile and simply drank in the sight of her, standing gracefully in the center of her discarded clothing like a single rose in full bloom rising from a priceless vase. His gaze lingered over generous, plump b.r.e.a.s.t.s topped with coral-hued nipples that tightened under his regard. The curve of her waist gave way to rounded hips and shapely thighs, hugging the triangle of chestnut curls nestled between her legs. Now clad in only her stockings and shoes, she robbed him of the control he'd fought so hard to keep in check. His every muscle tensed with needs that he could deny no longer. She looked ripe, luscious, and utterly delectable, and G.o.d help him, he was starving.

He extended his hand and helped her step from the yards of material surrounding her. The instant she was free, he bent his knees, scooped her into his arms, and carried her to the velvet coverlet, made softer by the bed of fresh hay he'd spread beneath it. He gently laid her down, cushioning her head on the blue pillow. After slipping off her shoes and stockings and setting them aside, he rose to remove his low, soft leather boots and breeches.

Catherine rolled onto her side, propped her head on her palm, and watched the proceedings with rapt attention. When he freed his erection from the strangulating confines of his snug breeches, he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Oh, my," she breathed, rising to her knees, her avid gaze arousing him further.

He tossed his clothing haphazardly onto the pile, then knelt on the quilt in front of her. Framing her face between his hands, he lowered his head and brushed his lips over hers. "Catherine..."

Everything he felt, all the love and desire burning in him, all the battles he'd waged to contain those feelings for so long were voiced in that single, heartfelt word. And the instant his lips touched hers, those battles were lost.

With a groan that bordered on pain, he pulled her against him. Each new sensation barely had time to blink in his mind before it was supplanted with another. Her body pressed against his from chest to knee. Soft b.r.e.a.s.t.s, aroused nipples, crushed against his chest. Her hands rippling through his hair. His palms skimming down her back to cup her b.u.t.tocks, Catherine returning the favor. The weight of her breast filling his hand. Bending his head to lave her nipple with his tongue, then draw the aroused bud into his mouth. Absorbing her guttural groan of his name. Another deep, soul-searching kiss. Soft skin beneath his hands. Sleek, moist feminine flesh between her thighs, swollen with want.

She glided her fingers down the length of his erection, and he broke off their kiss to suck in a harsh breath.

"Did I hurt you?"

Unable to speak, he shook his head.

"I want to touch you, Andrew."

Gritting his teeth, he rested his forehead against hers and withstood the sweet torture of her fingers stroking him for as long as he could. But when she wrapped her fingers around his erection and gently squeezed, he grasped her wrist. His lips captured hers in a hard, pa.s.sionate kiss, a frantic melding of lips and tongues. Without breaking their kiss, he lowered her onto her back on the quilt, then covered her body with his own. She spread her legs and groaned, and he bent his head to touch his tongue to the pleasure-filled sound vibrating at the base of her throat.

Propping his weight on his palms, he watched her in the flickering golden light while he slowly entered her body. A tumble of wild chestnut curls, in disarray from his exploring hands, surrounded her head. Her lips were red and moist and slightly parted, while her chest rose and fell with her rapid, shallow breaths. Her dusky nipples were damp and erect from his mouth. But it was the stark need, the acute want in her eyes that undid him.

He slowly thrust into her warm, wet velvet heat, and squeezed his eyes shut against the fierce pleasure. He wanted to go slowly, make this last, but his body, so long denied, was beyond his control. His strokes lengthened, quickened. Deeper. Harder. She met his every thrust, urging him on, her fingers digging into his shoulders. She tensed beneath him, surging her hips upward while exhaling a long, ooohh of pleasure. Helpless to contain his release any longer, he buried his face in the fragrant crook of her shoulder and throbbed inside her wet heat for an endless, miraculous moment that left him breathless, weak, utterly contented, and, d.a.m.n near dead.

Catherine lay beneath Andrew's delicious weight- breathless, weak, utterly contented, and more alive than she'd ever felt in her entire life.

This was what all the fuss was about. This was what she'd been missing her entire marriage. This was the splendid wonder described in A Ladies' Guide, although nothing in the book's vivid commentary and instructions had sufficiently prepared her for such an incredible, intimate experience.

With her eyes closed, she took a moment to savor the aftermath, not wanting the stunning pleasure to end. Andrew's ragged breaths beating against her ear. His body covering hers, heated skin to heated skin. His arms still wrapped tightly around her, as if he never wanted to let her go. Her arms encircling his broad shoulders, also reluctant to release. His heartbeat pounding against her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. And the dazzling sensation of his body still intimately joined with hers. No, she had not known that it would be like this.

Or that he would quickly become quite so heavy.

Not that she didn't relish the feel of him on top of her, but the need to draw a deep breath was about to overtake the pleasure of him covering her like a human blanket.

Whether he sensed her need or simply possessed good timing she didn't know, but just then he stirred. After brushing a kiss against her cheek, he shifted to prop his weight on his forearms and looked down at her, his eyes dark and intense, his breathing still not quite steady. His midnight hair, mussed from her frantic fingers, spilled over his forehead. Reaching up, she brushed the strands aside, only to have them tumble out of place again.

"You look rather disheveled," she said, with a smile.

"As do you. Delightfully so." He lowered his head and kissed her. A slow, deep, intimate kiss that conveyed better than any words could have that he'd found their love-making as satisfying as she. A kiss that rekindled the flame he'd extinguished only moments ago.

"I'm going to want to do all that again," she whispered against his lips, trailing her fingers lightly down his spine.

"I don't know when I've heard better news. But I'm afraid I'll need a few minutes to recover first." Dropping a quick kiss onto her mouth, he eased from her body, then rolled onto his back, bringing her along.

Sprawled across his chest, Catherine watched him stuff one of the pillows beneath his head. After loosely wrapping his arms around her, his eyelids drooped.

Her brows shot upward. "Don't tell me you're tired!"

He chuckled. "All right. I won't tell you that."

"But you are!" Her voice was ripe with accusation. "How can that be? I've never felt more energetic in my entire life." She tickled her fingers down his abdomen. "I can hardly stay still."

"A fact that will greatly reduce my recovery time, I a.s.sure you."

"So you're not feeling wonderful?"

"I feel incredibly wonderful. But in a 'wrung-out sponge' manner, as opposed to your 'filled with vigor' manner."

"Humph. Wrung-out sponge does not sound very... encouraging."

A deep chuckle rumbled in his throat. "Actually, I meant it as a compliment to you."

"Indeed? I think it is time for me to fetch a dictionary so you can look up compliment. I'm certain that 'wrung-out sponge' is not given as an example."

"My darling Catherine, I am wrung out because you satisfied me so completely. So absolutely." His hands skimmed down her back. "As I've never been satisfied before."

My darling Catherine. Heavens, that sounded... lovely. Especially in that husky growl his voice had become. "Well, I can certainly say the same thing to you. In fact, I'm anxious to tell you about all the firsts I've experienced since I entered the gazebo. Would you like to hear about the things I've discovered?"

"I'd be delighted."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Are you certain you won't doze off? You look suspiciously sleepy."

He dipped his chin and looked down at her with a sinful smile. "I'm not sleepy. I'm sated. I a.s.sure you that you have my full attention."

"Very well. I've never undressed a man before." She traced a series of light circles on his bare chest. "I've never seen a naked man before."

One dark brow shot upward. "Never?"

She shook her head, her chin b.u.mping against his chest. Then she sat up and skimmed her gaze down his length. "Although I have nothing to compare you to, I think you are most likely a very well made specimen."

One corner of his lovely mouth lifted. "Thank you."

"I very much like the way your skin feels. Warm and firm." Unable to stop touching him, she rested her hand against his shoulder, then slowly dragged her palm down the center of his chest. "I've never seen, or touched hair on a man's chest. It's a bit coa.r.s.e, but soft at the same time. And your muscles... an enthralling delight. So strong, under all that warm, firm skin." She skimmed a single fingertip slowly downward. "This ribbon of dark hair is absolutely fascinating. The way it starts at your chest, then continues downward, bisecting these lovely ripples on your stomach, then spreads again to cradle..."Her voice drifted off as her gaze riveted on his manhood. "... this part of you that so captivates me, that brought me such incredible sensations. Even at rest you are impressive." She lightly circled the tip of him with her index finger. "I've never touched a man like this before," she whispered.

He swallowed, then levered himself up onto his side, propping his weight on his forearm. His dark eyes regarded her with an unreadable expression. Reaching out, he cradled her face in his palm and brushed the pad of his thumb over her cheek. "I'm sorry your marriage was not a happy one, Catherine."

To her mortification, hot tears pushed behind her eyes. "I realized very quickly that with Bertrand I'd been denied the satisfaction that can come from an emotional bond, but until tonight, I hadn't realized what I'd missed from the physical part our union. I conceived in the first weeks of my marriage, and once my condition was confirmed, Bertrand did not approach me. And once Spencer was born... Bertrand never touched me again. I could count the number of times he visited my bedchamber, and none of those visits in any way resembled what you and I shared this evening. Being with Bertrand was perfunctory. Dry. Uninspiring. Hasty, cursory actions under the cover of darkness. Disappointing and frustrating in ways I didn't understand." She turned her head and pressed a kiss in his callused palm. "Being with you was... miraculous. Exciting. Enthralling. And very much not dry. A first in every conceivable way."

She drew a deep breath, considering her next words for several seconds before continuing. "Bertrand had lovers, you know. Several that I know about, and I'm certain many others of whom I'm not aware. I must admit that I considered such an arrangement myself on more than one occasion, when the loneliness became unbearable. When I needed to touch another person. Longed to smile at someone other than my son. Craved adult companionship."

"But you didn't take a lover?"

"No."

"Why not?"

She shrugged. "In spite of my husband's behavior, my conscience balked at the thought of breaking my marriage vows; although, if I am to be perfectly honest, my fidelity had more to do with remaining true to my own values than it did with loyalty to my husband."

"Which does not diminish your character in any way, Catherine."

"Perhaps not, but my other reasons are not quite so n.o.ble. Basically, I was afraid. I did not want to risk becoming fodder for the village gossips, and an affair in a village the size of Little Longstone would be all but impossible to conceal. I feared not only for my own reputation, but Spencer's as well."