Lucy bucked against him, shamefully pushing into his hand. Reaching for the molten touch of his fingers, wanting more of that rich, deep sensation.
Another gentle brush of his thumb. More wicked things murmured along the curve of her ear. A rumbling masculine sound echoed from his chest.
Her entire body grew taut, like a bowstring. The air stilled in her lungs as sensation ratcheted up her thighs. A needy, soft whine escaped Lucy. Her fingers clawed at his wrist.
Dear God. She’d never known such ecstasy existed.
Her climax was glorious. Magnificent. Made that much better because it was at the hands of Harry Estwood. She writhed in Harry’s arms, limbs shaking while his fingers continued to move along her the entire time. Each tremor echoing along her skin brought another fresh wave of pleasure.
Utterly intoxicating.
Lucy had barely caught her breath, body still throbbing, when Harry dragged her in the direction of the bed.
Yes, that’s right. There’s more.
“I should have taken you,” he said again, an angry, possessive look fixed on his features.
“Yes,” was all she managed, relieved that the lisp had retreated. Falling back on the bed, her legs splayed wide, Lucy pulled at her hair, trying to cover herself, feeling entirely too exposed.
“Stop.” Harry shucked off his boots and trousers, eyes never leaving her. He tore at his shirt, buttons flying through the air in his haste to remove it. “I’ve already seen everything. But you haven’t.”
Oh. Dear. Lucy shut her eyes.
She was horribly unprepared for the sight of a naked man. Ridiculous, given her age. Which made her feel…inadequate.Foolish. How could she possibly hope to satisfy Harry? A woman such as Mrs. Armstrong would know what to do to keep his interest. He would be disappointed at her inexperience, her?—
“Lucy.” Harry’s voice soothed her. “I’m sure you have a fair idea of what the male anatomy looks like. Your father has a horse farm.”
She cracked open one eyelid. “I wasn’t permitted to look.”
Lucy had…glimpseda stallion mounting a mare. But little else. Not that she would admit to it.
“Then I insist you do so now. I’ve little modesty about such things, which is something you will have to grow accustomed to. I don’t generally sleep in my trousers.” She heard his feet pad towards the bed. “Do you mean to say you weren’t curious?”
“Father didn’t want me to become a harlot.”
Harry burst into laughter. “From a horse’s cock? Far more likely the sight would have frightened you into celibacy forever.Well, you should look now.” Good lord, he sounded so…full of himself. “You’ll be seeing it often enough.”
Lucy opened her eyes, fixing her gaze to a spot just below his navel.
Good grief. His arrogance was not unfounded. Even for a woman as sheltered as Lucy had been—even she could see that Harry was…rather exceptional.
I merely thought his tailor hadn’t measured his trousers properly.
“We’ll go slow.” He stroked the large, thick length several times while watching her. “I realize it seems…challenging.”
Challenging?Lucy snorted in disbelief. She only had so much courage, and most of it had been expended on Dufton’s unwelcome appearance outside of Granby’s home today. What little remained had been stripped from her, literally, as Harry had brought her to climax before a mirror.
But this.
She forced her gaze from the harsh cut of his hipbones to what lay between them, then back to the lean, muscular torso.
Harry had the body of a man who was no stranger to physical labor, as if he still worked the forges at Pendergast. Likely could shoe a horse. Beat bits of metal into something useful, like those rods and beams she’d seen on the sketches in his study. Dig in the dirt for ancient weapons if the mood struck him. Not a spare ounce of fat lingered on her husband’s form. If anything, Lucy thought he should eat more. A lovely dusting of sherry-colored hair covered his chest and…mattersbelow.
Lucy picked up a pillow to cover herself. Or possibly it was for protection.
Harry sighed and crawled on all fours until he loomed over her. “Stop that nonsense.” He took the pillow and tossed it aside. “You can’t hide from me.” The tip of his finger traced a circle around one nipple, making her gasp.
Good lord,itwas…bobbingevery time he moved.
