Page 52 of One Night of Temptation
She finished with the buttons and pushed the breeches down over his hips. He cupped her head and began to pull pins from her hair. “I want to see your hair down.”
Edging backward from him so he had to drop his hands, she removed the rest of the pins until the weight of her hair fell across her shoulders. She took the pins from his hand and deposited the lot on the table beside the bed—the one he hadn’t moved.
She turned to see him stripping his stockings away, then he came around to where she knelt on the mattress. Her chemise had loosened and shifted when she’d traversed the bed on her knees, exposing the top of her shoulder and the crest of her breast. It was more flesh than anyone besides her maid had ever seen.
His gaze locked with hers, and he gently touched her bare skin just below her collarbone. She shivered.
“Are you cold?”
“That would be impossible when I’m with you.” She gripped the sides of his shirt, using it to pull herself to the edge of the bed. He lowered his head, his lips caressing her collarbone. He brushed her hair aside to reveal her neck and dragged his lips up to her ear, then back down again to the hollow at her throat.
With each touch of his lips, she felt a new sensation—a heaviness in her breasts, a tingling in her belly, an ache between her legs. Everything was connected and completely within his control. He cupped the underside of her breast, and she felt it in her core, gasping as she flattened her hands against his sides, seeking his heat and hardness.
Grasping the hem of her chemise, he slowly pulled the garment over her head, exposing her body to his eager gaze. “You are so beautiful,” he murmured.
She’d never thought so before—her mother had always said she was too thin, too small, that her features weren’t “lively” enough, whatever that meant. But now, with Hugh, she felt beautiful and cherished. Loved.
“My turn,” she whispered, tugging at his shirt.
He took over, whipping the linen over his head and hanging it over the corner post of the bed. She stared at the expanse of his chest. It was impossibly wide, with a ripple of muscles and a faint smattering of auburn hair. She tentatively reached for him, her palm flattening against his breast. Lightly, she ran her fingertips over his nipple and wondered if he felt a tingling sensation there like she did.
He lifted his hand to her breast once more, this time cupping her, flesh to flesh. His hand was warm and big, easily encompassing the small globe. He dragged his thumb over the tip, and her breath caught. He repeated the movement, sending licks of sensation straight to her sex.
Then his finger joined his thumb, and he gently tugged. Penelope closed her eyes as a soft moan raced from her lips. He did it again and again. Each time, the pleasure was more, and then he did the same to her other breast. She feared she might whimper.
A hot, wet sensation on her nipple pushed her over the edge. She cried out, opening her eyes to see that he’d bent his head to her breast. He kissed her there the way he kissed her on the mouth, his lips and tongue wreaking delicious havoc on her senses.
She gripped his shoulder and clasped the back of his head, holding on to him lest she be swept away. He suckled her, drawing on her nipple until she moaned. The ache between her legs grew, and she began to understand what might happen.
Hugh’s hand slid down her abdomen. His knuckles grazed her sex. She jerked, shocked by the contact, and opened her eyes. He touched her again, then lifted his head. “Tell me to stop at any time, and I will.”
She nodded, unable to speak. Keeping his eyes on hers, the connection between them grew as his fingers stroked through her hair and along the folds hidden beneath. His touch was tantalizing and wonderful, but somehow not enough.
“More,” she whispered, uncertain from where the word had come. Thought seemed difficult as sensation took over.
He turned her on the bed and guided her back until she lay flat atop the coverlet. With a hand on her breast, and a hand between her legs, he touched her gently, teasing and tormenting. He lightly pinched her nipple, drawing a soft cry from her lips. Next, he slid the tip of his finger inside her, a brief but welcome intrusion.
Then he touched a spot at the top of her sex, pressing and moving his fingers, and it was everything she’d begun to hope for. Pleasure built inside her until it seemed a living thing, coaxing her to an awareness she’d never imagined. There was just her and Hugh, their breath, their bodies, their mutual desire.
His touch on her breast and her sex overwhelmed her with need. Her body thrummed, desperate for what must come next. Then he kissed her, his mouth warm and wet, as his finger came fully inside her.
Her body stretched, and he withdrew—briefly. He returned, sliding in and out again, creating a friction that drove her body to rise off the bed to meet his thrusts. His hand left her breast and joined the one at her sex, his fingers rubbing that spot that craved release.
He speared his tongue into her mouth, then drew back, whispering, “Come for me, Pen. Let go and break apart. I will pick up every bit and put you together again. Always.”
It was precisely as he said. Something inside her tightened, she gripped his shoulders, then let go. Ecstasy rushed over her, splintering her into too many pieces. Not too many for him. He would make her whole—now and forever. Of that she was certain.
The bed depressed as he climbed on beside her. She opened her eyes slightly, just enough to see his beloved face. A fine sheen of sweat had beaded across his brow, and his eyes were dark but the gold at the center shimmered with desire.
He moved over her and settled himself between her thighs. “Lift your legs around me.”
She did as he said, wrapping her legs around his hips. She’d never felt so open and exposed. Her sex throbbed with pleasure—a mad combination of satisfaction and need. “Can I touch you?” she asked softly.
He took her hand and curled it around his sex, his eyes never leaving hers.
She moved her fingers over him, exploring his cock. She loved the soft velvet of his flesh over the hard steel of his erection. “It feels so big. Will it…fit?” She felt silly for asking.
“Yes, but I will go very slow. I must beg your forgiveness, because this time will likely not be comfortable, especially at first.”
