Page 39 of A Lady's Dangerous Secret
Charlotte had been intimidated at first, but now she was simply in awe. He stood proud like a statue, though comparing him to a lifeless figure would be a disservice to his beauty. Without a shirt, his shoulders multiplied in size and revealed a well-defined chest, dusted with dark hair. If he lay down, she was sure she could balance a glass of wine on his muscular abdomen. Below his navel, a trail of dark hair led to his nether regions, which were frustratingly still covered by his breeches. She had clearly ordered those to be removed, but she would demand he continue disrobing in a moment. First, she must finish perusing what was available. Ah yes, she had not inspected the strong arms that had apparently carried her the night she was attacked.
She found his right hand, which gripped the top of his breeches, apparently awaiting her command. It was an extension of a sinewy right arm that must have developed from his years at sea. His left arm?—
The warm feelings that had coiled in her most private area abruptly disappeared.
His left arm had been behind his back, but now it rested at his side. And it was hideously marked. This arm was marred by thick, fibrous scars that left dark-brown markings over its entirety and gave it the appearance of a gnarled tree trunk.
Her eyes darted to his face. Gone was the brief glimpse of levity she had witnessed when he had teased her, and back was his customary scowl. His gaze was unwavering, and she knew he dared her to dwell on his injuries.
Now was not the time.
She licked her lips and forced her perusal to resume. She would have to come back to those scars later, though she hurt for him and the pain he must have endured. She needed to distract herself. Her attention was captured by the hungry look in his eyes, which had replaced his challenging glare. It gave her a sense of power she had never experienced before—to be desired.
“Off,” she ordered, and pointed to his breeches.
He raised his eyebrows and smirked. “You’re awfully demanding.”
She lifted her chin and responded in her most supercilious tone, “James, I will not asktwice.”
His smirk spread into a full grin that lit up his stoic face. He was breathtakingly handsome when he allowed himself even an ounce of lightheartedness. “I’ll remove everything as you command, but I need to pleasure you first.”
“Oh?” Charlotte replied before she could continue her domineering persona. She tried to understand what he meant. She thought her experience with him in the gardens had been an aberration. Whenever she overheard her brothers and their friends talk, no one ever mentioned pleasuring the woman. Before he could answer, she stepped toward him and dropped to her knees and reached for the fall front of his breeches.
“This is what’s supposed to happen first,” she stated with bravado.
James’s strong hands gripped her wrists and stopped her from proceeding.
“No, you’re a lady.” He pulled her to her feet, causing her to lose her balance. She fell into his chest and her fingers splayed out on his bare, muscular skin to catch herself. His chest hair tingled her fingertips.
“It’s my duty to pleasure you.” His head dipped down, and he captured her mouth. He kissed her with such fervor thatshe could only open her own mouth in response. His salty, sea-breeze scent enveloped her. His tongue tangled with hers. After the initial shock, she eagerly responded to his passionate kisses. She stood on her toes and wrapped her hands around the back of his neck, trying to bring him closer. His mouth paused their ministrations. She was about to object, but then she felt his lips move down the non-bandaged portion of her neck. His evening stubble heightened the sensation.
His hands had been rubbing her upper arms tenderly, but now, his right hand reached down to her buttock and pulled her closer. She felt his straining member pushing into her abdomen, causing her to squeeze her thighs together as that odd, tingling feeling she had also felt in the gardens heightened.
He lifted his head for a moment and murmured into her ear, “Hold on to me.” She tightened her grip around his neck, and he effortlessly scooped her up. She wrapped her legs around his hips for support and let out a squeal while he strode over to the bed. Giddiness swept through her, and her heart raced in anticipation.
Wanton.
She felt wanton, but in this moment, she did not care. He gently placed her down on the counterpane. Time seemed to slow as he carefully unlaced her short stays, savoring each moment, his frenetic actions gone. She wiggled her shoulders to help him ease her out of the stays, leaving her covered in just a chemise. His eyes intently scanned her body, darkening with desire. She sat up and moved onto her knees, never breaking eye contact with him. She raised her arms, and he lifted the chemise over her head.
Charlotte heard his sharp intake of breath from beneath the fabric. When she emerged, she found him looking at her as if he were a starved man seeing food for the first time in days. Her nipples puckered from the chill of the room and the longing inhis eyes. She was stark naked, but instead of feeling vulnerable and exposed, she felt treasured, and most importantly, safe.
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” James said with reverence. She was even better than what he had dreamed.
And he dreamed of her every night.
The frantic need to strip her bare had subsided, and he had allowed himself to relish each moment of removing the rest of her clothing.
He only had one night, after all.
And Charlotte calmed him.
The restlessness that plagued him was at bay when she was near.
His empress knelt on the bed, waiting for him without a stitch of clothing. Her hair was restricted in a chignon, but he would fix that. He took in the rest of her perfection.
He winced. Almost perfection.
His stomach dropped as his gaze flickered to the bandage around her neck.
