“Why did you come here?” Ursula found herself saying, her voice trembling. “You made it quite clear on our wedding night that you wanted nothing to do with me.”
She heard his voice hitch in his throat. “That is not true, Ursula.”
“Then what would you like me to believe?”
There was a silence. She had still not turned around. Ursula kept her gaze on the flickering fire, watching the flames leap high up the chimney.
Then Graham took a step closer, close enough to place his hands on her shoulders. Inhaling sharply, Ursula released the collar of her dress.
The gown slid down from her shoulders, requiring only a little tug to fall past the curve of her hips. It puddled on the ground at her feet, and cold air rushed in, making her bare skin prickle.
It felt beyond strange, being in such a state of undress in front of aman. Her nightdress, at least, had gone all the way to her ankles, whereas the chemise was much shorter and tighter, revealing her arms and her legs up to her calves.
Should I turn and look at him? I do not quite understand what he wants from me, or whatIwant fromhim.
Graham gingerly placed his hands on Ursula’s waist, leaning forward to press a kiss to the tip of her shoulder.
“I am sorry that you feel so ill at ease here,” Graham whispered. “You do not deserve such uncertainty.”
She exhaled softly. “I am not uncertain about everything.”
His hand slid around her ribcage, spanning the front of her stomach. His palm was warm, so warm that it seemed to burn through the thin material of her chemise, carving the imprint of his hand on her skin.
Graham’s breath tickled the side of her neck, raising pleasant goose bumps. His hand skimmed down to cup her hipbone, and his fist closed on the material of her chemise, lifting it a few inches higher.
Closing her eyes, Ursula let herself sag against Graham, lifting a hand up to touch his cheek. She felt stubble there, and when she left her fingertips dance over the side of his neck, she could feel the pounding of his pulse beneath his skin.
He lifted her chemise higher, high enough to flatten his palm against her bare thigh. Ursula breathed out. The sensations were similar to their wedding night, the feeling of being burned up inside, the ache, thewanting.
This time, when Graham’s questing fingers brushed against the join of her legs, he did not pull away. Ursula gasped aloud when he touched her, tentatively at first and then with more confidence. He traced a line again and again, fingers pressing and circling against her most intimate areas in a way which even the more scandalous books Ursula had read hadneverdiscussed.
Something not unlike pressure was building up inside her, the sensations climbing on top of each other, reaching a peak. Quite abruptly, the bubble of sensation burst, and Ursula found herself crying out, one hand reaching behind her to dig her fingers into Graham’s shoulder.
He kept one arm tightly around her waist as she shuddered through the aftershocks, his lips pressed against her neck, breath warm.
Ursula still seemed to be returning from the clouds when he released her at last, stepping back. She twisted around to look at him, eyes wide. He was flushed, hair dishevelled, and stared back at her with equal confusion.
“I… I shall retire to my own room now,” Graham said at last, his voice shaking. He made a brief, wobbly bow, then turned on his heel and all but fled. Ursula was left alone, disoriented and still shaking from pleasure.
She sat down on thechaise longuerather hard.
“Well,” she said aloud. “Well.”
Chapter Fifteen
“Our doubts are traitors, and make us lose the good we oft might win, by fearing to attempt.” – Measure for Measure,William Shakespeare
Ursula woke in a jolt. She’d overslept, but it didn’t matter.
Stretched out on her bed, she twisted, the sheets tangling around her legs, and stretched luxuriously. The events of last night would have seemed like a dream, if it weren’t for the tiny, barely-there bruise on her hip where Graham’s fingers had tightened just a little too much.
It’s not exactly a proper consummation,she thought,I’m not entirely sure that it would count. But it issomething, surely?
Had he felt the same desire she had? She thought so, but besides her own feelings and the warmth of his touch, where was the evidence? He had left hurriedly, and Ursula was not sure whether to be pleased or disappointed. On the one hand, she was glad to have a few moments to collect herself and think through what had just happened.
On the other hand, it was difficult not to feel as though he had hurried away deliberately.
Sighing, Ursula rolled onto her back and stared up at the canopy above her head.
