Charlotte ran a hand through his hair as he put his mouth upon her once more, and she tipped her head back, surrendering herself to the moment as he again started to tease her with his tongue.
She whimpered with longing and gripped his hair, writhing against him. Henry pushed his fingers deeper inside, increasing his rhythm and pace until she could feel waves of pleasure building within her, every inch of her skin on fire with longing, any capacity for coherent thought beyond her.
Then her ecstasy hit, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over her, flooding her body with sensation from head to toe. She heard herself cry out as though from a long way away and then felt a rush of wetness between her thighs.
“Henry,” she gasped, her tone urgent, tugging him toward her. With a wicked smile he climbed up between her legs, positioning himself over her on the bed. She lifted her legs and wrapped them around his hips as he looked down at her, his eyes suddenly soft.
“Are you ready, my love?” he asked softly.
As if there could possibly be any doubt.
“Yes,” she whispered, and he began to gently push himself inside her. There was another sharp sting, but it was over as quickly as it appeared, to be replaced only with an aching need to have him fully inside her. She arched her back, pulling him into her.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” He ran a hand through her hair. It looked as though it was taking all of his self-control to hold back, and it gave her a throb of pleasure to see the effect she had on him.
“It doesn’t hurt,” she protested, bucking her hips wantonly toward him, but he slid himself inside her impossibly slowly until she felt filled by him, stretched by him. Only when she had gotten used to the sensation and her body was relaxed around him did he start to move inside her, his breath hot against her neck.
Charlotte gripped his firm backside, feeling his muscles contract as he moved inside her. She tipped her head back as he squeezed the nape of her neck and nibbled at her throat again.
“Charlotte,” he groaned, and his movements quickened and deepened, his back slicked with sweat. His whole body tensed as he thrust deeply inside her and he shuddered as his own climax came. He moaned her name over and over.
Then he exhaled, long and low, before laying his head next to hers on the pillow, shuddering as his pleasure subsided. Then he rolled off her, leaving her bereft for a moment until he pulled her into his arms, kissing the top of her head. Her limbs were warm and heavy, and she was utterly content.
“You’re trembling,” he said softly.
“So are you,” she replied, smiling into his chest. “That was amazing.”
“This is only the beginning,” he whispered, kissing her again. “I hope you’re ready for forever.”
EPILOGUE
Felicity satat the small writing desk near the window, sipping a lukewarm cup of tea, the late morning sunlight creeping across the floor of her modest sitting room. She was halfway through a novel when the butler knocked.
“A letter for you, Miss Doherty,” he said, stepping in with a silver tray. His tone held a curious note, though his expression was unreadable.
Felicity raised an eyebrow. “From whom?”
“The seal is Scottish, miss. A noble house. I believe it may be from your guardian.”
That jolted her. “My guardian?”
Why would he have sent her a letter?
She took the envelope with fingers that had gone suddenly cold. She’d never received any communication directly from him. Not once. Her stipend had always arrived regularly, the house remained hers to use as she pleased, and no one had ever intervened in her affairs. She’d rather assumed that the mysterious earl preferred to pretend she didn’t exist.
She broke the wax seal and unfolded the paper with growing unease.
To Miss Felicity Doherty,
I hope this letter finds you well. I regret the length of time during which you have been left to manage without guidance. Circumstances beyond my control prevented my involvement, but I am now in a position to resume my duties.
I will be arriving in London within the fortnight and request the pleasure of a meeting to discuss your future and, I hope, ensure your well-being is seen to properly.
With sincere regards,
Finlay Gordon, Earl of Kinross
Felicity readthe letter twice before letting it fall to the desk. “Thank you, Carson,” she murmured, her voice faint. “That will be all.”
