Page 40 of The Winter Husband
“This,” he murmured, running the back of his hand down her stays, “is coming off, too.”
He tugged the knotted end of the lacing from beneath the skirt’s waistband. His deft fingers worked the knot free. Then he yanked the crisscrossed lace out of the grommets, laddering up her chest with a swiftness that made her breasts swell tender. With a last wheeze of ribbon through the grommets, he pulled the lace free and dropped it to the floor. She shrugged her shoulders to rid herself of the stays, leaving only her shift to cover her nakedness. Her nipples puckered, and every brush of the tips against the cambric fabric shot little darts of pleasure through her.
Gripped by boldness, she flicked the fringe on his deerskin shirt. “I shouldn’t be the only one undressing.”
With firelight blazing in his eyes, he seized a fistful of deerskin at the back of his neck and hauled it off his shoulders to toss it into the shadows. He made swift work of the linen shirt underneath, leaving his torso naked above the low-slung waistband of his woolen breeches.
A solid wall of muscle rippled before her. She glimpsed a ridged scar on his side, a longer one across his chest, and a star-like pucker on one arm. Soldier’s wounds, from sword and bullet. They made her giant of a husband look even more invincible, like his skin had the power to knit up around steel or lead. She flattened a hand on the ripples of his abdomen, his skin so warm, the light sprinkling of hair soft. She traced a finger in the furrow between the muscles, down to the dip of his navel where, below, the buttons of his breeches strained in her direction. Her palms ached to be filled with his sex.
Before she dared, he stepped closer to slide his hand up her side, the direction undeniable. Her lips parted as he cupped a breast.
“Do that again,” he commanded.
Her senses swam as if she stood on the deck of a pitching ship. “Do…what?”
“Moan.”
“I don’t…moan.” Her nipple tightened as he framed it between his thumb and first finger.
“Marie.” He squeezed gently. “Do it again.”
A moan launched out of her. He made a choked noise and pinched the tingling bud once more. She couldn’t bear both his ravenous lookandthe pinpoint lightning he was coaxing through her, so she turned her face away. His soft hair brushed her cheek just as he bent his head and sucked her nipple into his hot mouth.
She whimpered as he tugged gently, making her inner muscles clench. She grasped his shoulders. Why hadn’t she offered herself earlier? If she’d only known how safe she would feel in his hands…how skilled and patient his touch. She knew she would never have the gentle happiness of a lifelong, loving partner, but she could still seize from life what joy she could.
With a muffled groan, Lucas raised his head and banded an arm around her back. His other arm swept under her bottom, crumpling her skirts. Cradled aloft, she opened her eyes to see the rafters spinning as he twisted to lay her on the bed. Fur brushed against her bare back and sent new tremors of excitement through her. A lock of Lucas’s hair came free of the rawhide tie and fell over his brow. A wave of tenderness washed through her as she reached up to comb her fingers through the silkiness. He dipped his head and pressed his lips against hers. Nudging her legs out from under his bulk, she dragged her knees up his sides to arch her aching center against his body.
He made a strangled noise and straightened up to plant both hands on either side of her.
“Woman,” he sputtered, “if you keep doing that—”
“This?” she said, shimmying her hips against his lower abdomen.
“I’ll be finished,” he said, his voice strangled, “sooner than we both want.”
She lifted her hips against his ridge anyway, loving the tremors of pleasure passing over his face. Catching her observance, he stretched his mouth in a wolfish smile and slid up against her with pinpoint deliberation. She gasped at the coiling friction.
“No more teasing,” he warned. “At least for now.”
Landing a bite-kiss on her jaw, he shoved himself off her, granting her a breathtaking view of shoulders and tapered waist. He nudged her to lie on her side so he could unhook the fastening at the back of her waistband. He rolled her flat on her back again, yanking off the skirt and petticoats, muttering, “Too damn many clothes,” as he tossed them all away in a flutter of cotton and wool, leaving her in a cambric shift.
A hot flush suffused her body as he planted his big hands on her bare upper thighs and shoved up her shift. He blinded her for a moment as he wrestled the garment over her head. She fell back on her elbows, excited to finally be naked before him. Her breasts heaved. Her belly sank into a hollow. Her sex lay exposed to his hungry gaze. Only her black cotton stockings remained, held up by ribbons at mid-thigh. Her body pleased him, she could tell by the ravenous look on his face as Lucas loomed at the edge of the bed, taking in her nakedness as he fumbled with the buttons of his breeches.
She ached for more than the touch of his glance as he stripped himself down and kicked off wool and linen to release his member. She didn’t know how much longer she could wait. She drew in a breath at the sight of his readiness and then gave in to a wicked urge. Spreading her knees apart, she offered him welcome.
His eyes met hers, darkened with surprise and desire. “You’re a wonder.”
“Don’t stop now, Lucas. I can’t wait any longer.”
“That’s what I need to hear.”
He thrust his hands under her, cupped her bottom, and pulled her backside to the very edge of the bed. Stepping between her legs, he parted her knees so they hung over his elbows. The center of her sex throbbed against the heat of his big body as he settled himself into position. With the tip of his member, he kissed the entrance to her sex. Lovely, gripping spasms rippled through her.
Her elbows shook with strain. She resisted the urge to fall back on the bed. She wanted to watch Lucas’s face as he entered her completely. She wanted to see his pleasure blooming, see his gruffness give way to need, know he wanted her.
How sweet it felt to be wanted, even if it was only for this.
“It might”—he frowned as he looked between them—“hurt some.”
