She waited in silence, not wanting to embarrass him. He’d ask if he needed help.
He smoothed his hands down her sides, fingers wrapping a fraction of an inch below her breasts. Then he planted one hand against her back, and the other tugged on the ribbons. When they came apart after a few jerks, his sigh gusted over the back of her neck.
She grinned even as she shivered from the sensation.
Loosening the stays, he held them in one hand. With the other, he reached through the opening and pulled the gathers of her chemise away from her back, then rubbed where they’d pressed.
The gesture was comforting. Familiar. In a heartbeat Charlotte was in the past, Charles standing behind her, a teeny bit shorter, the angle different, but dropping her dress to the floor, then her stays, then pausing to smooth the creases in her skin from her chemise with tender, loving fingers. Her knees almost buckled beneath her anew as the grief struck.
William brought his hands to her shoulders as she gasped in a breath in an attempt to avoid crying.
Sniffling, she remained with her back to him and tried to compose herself, wiping away an errant tear with shaking fingers, the other clutching her golden heart.
Never mind his firsts. This was her first as well, her first with someone other than her husband, and she was woefully unprepared for the emotions it brought forth.
“Mistress? Please, did I hurt you? What did I do? Why are you crying? Please, please do not cry.” Turning her, he placed a gentle finger under her chin to lift her face to his.
This is not fair to William when I’ve led him to this point, yet he is being so tender.
“How did you—? Charles used to—” She struggled to regain her control. Stifling a sob, she swiped furiously at her cheeks, shaking her head to indicate she did not wish to explain.
He was again annoyingly perceptive, drawing her into his arms.
They stood like that, her gown loose around her, him poking her in the stomach with the persistent erection of a young man not yet twenty. His hand rubbed her back as she sniffled a few times over the memory of another man and the love that accompanied it. Silently, she admitted that she was grateful rather than annoyed at his perception. Many men twice his age were not as discerning or mature in their dealings with their wives.
Her chemise caught in his hand. The heat of his fingers on the bare skin of her back snapped her back to arousal, albeit muted, with an eager, fit puppy wanting to serve her. His height was different, shoulders broader, and his touch was slower, more hesitant.
His spiced rum smell was divine. It had heated her blood on more than one occasion from the chair across from her. With her nose against his throat, it was intoxicating. Sucking in a deep breath, she arched and pressed her breasts into his chest.
Closing her eyes, she whispered into his collarbone, “Thank you.”
“Always. I will hold you every time I am allowed,” he murmured over her, his end of day stubble catching on her hair as he formed the words.
She lifted her head to attempt to regain the mood, and he bent his head, his lips hovering over hers.
Unable to resist him, fully back in the present, she closed the gap and pressed her lips to his.
Tilting his head, he licked once at the seam of her mouth as though to ask permission to enter.
She parted her lips and his tongue swept in to explore hers. He did not press hard, his mouth gently rubbing hers. It was a whole-mouth caress. Another first for her, but with this, there was no thought of anyone other than the masterfully deferential young man who held her.
Lost in sensation, her blood swimming in her veins, Charlotte pressed her body against his again, only to have him break the kiss.
He stepped back. “Thank you, Mistress. Will you be all right now?”
“Yes, thank you, William. I just needed a minute.”
“Right, then. I shall see you tomorrow. Good night.”
She raised her brows.Good night?Any other man his age would have taken intimacy as far as she’d allow. Testing him, she asked, “What if I invited you to stay?”
He smiled his lopsided grin. “Are you?”
“Not now,” she muttered.
The corner of his mouth turned up again. Then he sobered and said, “When—if—you invite me into your bed, I want you to be very sure. And I want to be the only man in your thoughts whilst I’m there.”
Chapter Eleven
