“Ladies need them as well. It is better to be prepared then caught unaware.”
“You have these. All the time.”
“As often as Father can afford them. Though,” she said as her cheeks heated. “I have never used one before now. I’m not exactly confident with how it’s applied.”
He touched her arm, then he closed the distance between their mouths, kissing her with a fire that stoked a blaze within her. And when he pulled back, his gaze was troubled.
“I know what to do,” he said, “but are you sure? We just found each other again this morning.”
Didn’t he understand? She didn’t regret the things she’d done in her life. Even their impetuous coupling at sixteen. What she regretted were the times she had run away or remained silent. The times when she didn’t take her chance. She had no idea what might happen between them tomorrow, but this was what she wanted now.
She’d already given him her virginity. It was nothing now to love him again. Especially if she could prevent unwanted consequences. Without risk of pregnancy or disease, she intended to enjoy every second of their time together.
She smiled as she twisted herself around in his arms. “Will you help me undress?”
He didn’t hesitate. He was exquisitely gentle as he undid the buttons of her gown. Slow and sweet as he kissed down her spine with every button undone. By the time her dress had slipped off her shoulders, she was trembling with desire. But that was nothing compared to when they unwrapped her stays.
She took a deep breath, filling her lungs as his hands came around her torso to cup her breasts.
Such exquisite delight as she felt his hands, so large as they held her. His callouses abraded her skin. His fingers twisted her nipples while lightning burst through her senses. Her breath grew short, and her body stretched into every new delight.
She kicked aside the last of her clothes. And when he looked at her naked body, all her doubts disappeared. For this moment, she would have him. And she would be glad of it.
As he had done with her, she helped him undress. She kissed every inch of flesh revealed, stripping away his clothing.
He taught her how to put on the French letter. Finally, she got to see, got to touch what the women in his father’s ministry knew so well. And when he slipped a hand between her thighs, she opened for him.
His every caress had her crying out at the intensity. So much to feel! So much to experience. And yet the moment he eased back, she wanted it again. And more.
He pressed her onto the bed. He kissed her lips, her neck, her breasts. And when she spread her thighs for the very act she’d dreamed of, he was the one who hesitated.
“Be sure, Giselle. We can wait—”
She wrapped her hands around his neck and pulled him down. Then she tightened her heels against his legs and pulled him into her.
He went where she led. He thrust into her, and it was perfect.
The penetration, the stretch, the fullness! She remembered. And she loved it.
“Good?” he asked.
“Oh yes,” she answered. “You?”
“God, yes!”
Then he began to move. The arch of his back created a slide away. Then a single flex, and she felt sparks at the impact.
Again and again, while each explosion grew inside her. Tighter, higher, hotter.
More.
More!
Bliss.
Chapter Eleven
Some miracles werebeyond human understanding. That was Jonathan’s thought as he held a sleeping Giselle in his arms. The girl of his memories had become the woman of his dreams. Her. Now. Without asking more of him than to let her be with him.
