Part 32 (1/2)

She closed the flap, took off her boots, pelisse, bonnet and gloves, placing them neatly in the corner. With only her chemise on, she drew up a pillow and hugged it. She hated being separated from her husband. Her nerves were giddy. Her feminine core felt heavy and hot with antic.i.p.ation. She could hear the crackle of the fire and his feet shuffling on the ground. What was taking so long?

Then the blanket swung open, and the light from the fire illuminated the tent. Kesseley entered, not a st.i.tch of clothes on his beautiful, sculpted body.

The firelight flickered on his hard face and the lines on his neck. The shadows and light p.r.o.nounced the bulge of his muscles on his arms and chest. Her gaze lowered to his taut belly and then to the dark curls and impressive member beneath. Henrietta gulped.

Suddenly, he appeared shy, his Adam's apple bobbing.

He spoke sheepishly. ”I'm sorry! I didn't mean to upset you. I just thought you might be more comfortable if I-” She didn't know what he was trying to say. Her brain had stopped working. She leapt at him, desperate for his lips, his skin, his touch. Her body writhed against his, knowing something her mind didn't.

He kissed her back thoroughly, his tongue thrusting so deep she could feel the edge of his teeth. He broke free, whispering into her ear, his voice thick and hoa.r.s.e. ”Do you like me?”

”Yes,” she cried. ”C-can I touch you?”

He laughed as his lips caressed her neck. He clasped her hand and guided her to him. His p.e.n.i.s felt rigid and hot. It jolted at her touch. She heard her own uneven inhale.

”May I show you how to please me?” he asked.

She nodded against his cheek. With his hand over her smaller one, he tutored her. She gazed at his face in the firelight. His eyes were closed. A snarl curled his lips.

”Am I doing it right?”

”Oh G.o.d, love.” He leaned his head on her shoulder, his hand moving hers faster up and down his s.e.x. Then he released her and entangled his fingers in her hair. He murmured her name, almost like a groan. She explored his contours, learning she could make him shudder if she stroked him all the way down his length, or elicit a gasp if she moved her fingers over the tip. Her heart swelled knowing she was pleasing him.

Then suddenly his whole body stiffened, and he yanked her hand away.

She was mortified. ”Did I do something wrong?”

He drew her against his chest. ”No,” he said harshly in her ear. Then he kissed her again as he eased her down to the pillows.

”Wait!” she cried.

He released her, almost too fast. His eyes searched hers. ”Are you frightened?”

”I-I want you to see me.”

She edged over to the open flap, where the firelight danced. Ignoring the cool air seeping in, she gathered the edge of her silk chemise in her hand and raised it over her thighs, revealing her dark curls. She lifted her eyes to his shadowed face. His intense gaze made her feel self-conscious, yet dangerously sensuous. She swallowed and continued, slipping the cool silk over her nipples, then up over her head. She shook her curls free and let them fall about her shoulders. He was silent as he studied her curves, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, her thighs, taking in the smallest details.

”Me,” she whispered, then repeated the question he had posed to her. ”Do you like me?”

He didn't move. She s.h.i.+vered, waiting, feeling very vulnerable.

”Henrietta, I've imagined you like this since...well, since I knew desire.” His voice cut through the silence. ”But, my G.o.d, you're more beautiful than I even conceived.”

She went to him, away from the cold, and took his hand, placing it upon her breast. He stroked the sensitive tip on his fingertips, sending a tingle to her feminine parts.

He pushed her gently onto the pillow, his mouth taking in her other breast, sucking, licking, its taut nipple. She dug her fingers into his hair, shamelessly pus.h.i.+ng herself against him, unable to get enough of the sweet, acute sensation his tongue elicited.

He lifted his head and gazed at her from below her wet, reddened breast. ”Can I please you?”

”Aren't you?” she cried, barely keeping her voice from flying away.

The way he chuckled made goose b.u.mps break over her skin.

His fingertips glided like feathers down her body, over her belly, lower and lower. She stopped breathing when his hand lingered in her curls. He kissed the inside of her thigh as his finger slid down her wet, feminine folds. Her legs tensed and instinctively she tried to close them.

”I love you,” he whispered, his breath like a caress over her skin. ”We don't have to do any more tonight. I'm content to just hold you.”

But as he spoke, he touched the small mound nestled between her feminine petals, and she shuddered. Again he brushed across her. She bit down on her lip, releasing a soft hum.

His finger began to circle faster, his gaze fixed on her face.

”What-” she cried, but couldn't finish. Her body arched, and her legs shamelessly widened for him.

He circled and flicked his finger over her mound. Teasing her, making her quiver. She couldn't form words, all she knew was to throw herself against her husband's hand, demanding more pleasure. His tongue found her b.r.e.a.s.t.s again. She let out a high whimper and curved her body to his touch.

In one long lick, his lips moved down her, coming to rest in her curls. ”Don't fight, my love, let it come.”

Then the most extraordinary thing happened. He ran his tongue down the wet, swollen slit between her limbs. She instinctively flinched, but he held her tight, the back of his hand rea.s.suringly caressing her thigh. ”Let me,” he begged.

She bit the edge of her lip, unsure, but trusting her husband. He reached for her hand and laced their fingers together as his tongue lapped at her mound. The shudders returned, this time more powerful. She held her breath, her whole being attuned to the smallest motion of his tongue. The merest touch reverberated down her spine and exploded across her nerves.

He released her fingers, sliding his hand over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, down her thighs, then slowly, slowly she felt his finger ease inside her, exploring her feminine secret. She groaned and instinctively thrust against him.

He moved his tongue, slightly. An intense pleasure shot through her. Her head fell back, her legs so taut they shook. She was on an edge of something. What? Everything was a brilliant white in her mind's eye.

His fingers gently squeezed her nipple and she cried out. Her body seemed to burst under her, rocking, bucking against her husband. And he wouldn't stop. With his fingers, his lips, he took her further into ecstasy.

His wife's cry of pleasure resonated to his core. She was amazing beyond any dream he'd ever had. Now she lay against the pillow. Her breath rose and fell like the gentle lap of a calm beach.

He pulled himself onto her. Her limp legs easily gave way, letting him slide between her knees. Her perspiring face glowed in the firelight, those chocolate eyes s.h.i.+ny and slightly dazed. She was beautiful in her wantonness.

”I never knew...” she whispered.