“I would never,” he murmured, voice suddenly low and serious. “Never, Charlotte.”
He carried her through the threshold of their room and set her down gently. The curtains were already drawn. It all felt surreal.
He touched her face, thumb brushing the curve of her cheek. “I love you,” he said simply.
“I know,” she whispered. “I love you too.”
She trembled, both nervous and desirous as he pulled her toward him and started to kiss her gently. Her lips parted of their own accord, and she let out a small gasp as his tongue probed hers and his hands slid around the back of her dress, untying the laces of her bodice.
“Turn around,” he said, his voice sounding rougher than usual, his eyes dark with desire.
Charlotte did as she was bid, her chest fluttering as she felt him deftly loosen her dress, and then it fell to her feet leaving her in her shift. She turned around to face him, stepping out of the mass of lace and silk to stand in front of him. Her nipples strained against the thin cotton of her shift, and she fought the impulse to cover them with her hands. Henry’s eyes travelled over the silhouette of her body, and his breath sounded ragged in his throat.
“You’re so beautiful, Charlotte.”
He reached for her hair then, pulling out the pins so that the weight of it fell around her shoulders and into his hands. He ran his fingers through it slowly, then suddenly groaned and pulled her to him, nuzzling her neck and collarbone.
“God, my love, I need you.” He sighed against her neck, nibbling the soft skin at the hollow of her throat, and Charlotte gasped as a ripple of desire went through her. Her gasp becamea moan as his lips traced a trail down to the tops of her breasts, pushing her shift down over her shoulders and arms as he did so.
By the time it reached her waist and he took one of her nipples in his mouth, she had forgotten her nerves. She arched against him, one hand buried in his hair.
“Henry…” She panted, heat pooling between her thighs as his tongue circled her nipple and he cupped her breasts with his hands. A need she had never experienced before curled in the pit of her stomach. Her anxieties were gone.
She wanted him. All of him.
Yet she wasn’t prepared for him lowering himself onto his knees as he kissed down her stomach. As he reached her sex, she shuddered, and his face flushed as he brought his mouth to her, his tongue flicking over the secret nub between her thighs.
She pressed her hand to her mouth as her sense of propriety warred with the gnawing need; part of her wanted him to stop, the other—much louder—wanted him never to stop.
Waves of sensation coursed through her body as he continued to taste her, slipping a finger gently inside her. There was a slight resistance, and then her body accepted him. She balled her fingers in his hair, feeling her thighs tremble and heat travel through her body as she gasped his name.
Then he got to his feet and began to quickly discard his clothes, pulling at his collar with impatience. With one hand he took one of hers and laid it on the laces of his breeches. Charlotte bit her lip, her nerves returning.
“I… I don’t know what to do,” she whispered even as she helped relieve him of his breeches while he stripped off his shirt, revealing a muscular chest and taut, hard stomach. He had broad shoulders and rippling biceps and a smattering of dark hair across his chest, and at the sight of him, she bit her lip again, drinking him in.
He was hers. Her husband.
Henry guided her hand inside his breeches, wrapping her hand around him. The skin of the shaft was warm and velvety soft against her palm, but it felt both firm and long in her hand, and she had a moment of apprehension at the thought of fitting his length inside her. She squeezed, experimenting with moving her hand along him, and he responded with a deep groan.
“Did I do something wrong?” She stopped moving, worried she’d hurt him.
He shook his head, his eyes closed and his head thrown back. “No, Charlotte,” he said in that ragged voice. “No, that’s perfect. I love your touch.”
Her insides warmed at that, and she continued to touch him, exploring the feel of him until he groaned again and grabbed her wrist. “Stop, or I’ll be finished before I can even get inside you.”
“Is that bad?”
He opened his eyes, smiling at her with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “No, my love, it’s very, very good.”
In one swoop he picked her up and laid her on the bed, then knelt again between her thighs.
As he lowered his mouth to her again, Charlotte felt the urgency of her need take over. She widened her legs further, pressing her hips into him as he gripped the soft flesh of her thighs. She moaned as he paused and then ran his tongue over her again, butterfly light, teasing her until she whimpered with need.
She rocked against his mouth, gasping as he slipped a finger inside her again, she clenched around him in response, her insides tightening with pleasure as he began to move it inside her, making a fluttering motion that made her gasp in delight. Her whole body was one exposed nerve ending, raw and aching.
Then Henry raised his head to look up at her.
“I want to see you climax for me, Charlotte,” he said in a deep, rough voice, his eyes so darkened with desire, they werealmost black. He kissed the skin where her thighs met her body. “I love the taste and smell of you,” he murmured. “I love knowing you’re mine. My wife.”
