She shuddered, and the desire in Henry’s eyes dissipated to be replaced with concern. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have mentioned—”
“No, don’t apologize,” Ellie interrupted.
Henry cupped her cheek for a moment before pulling her flush against him, holding her tight in an embrace. They stood together for several cycles of breaths, feeling the exchange of air, finding comfort in the presence of the other.
When Henry stepped back and met her gaze, the pang of affection palpable as it rushed through her. How could anyone not love a man like him?
“I think,” he said, the gravel in his voice audible once more, “we should replace those negative memories with good ones.”
Ellie gave him a tentative smile. “That sounds like a wise course of action.”
He dropped his mouth to hers, and they kissed as though yesterday’s lesson had never ended. They explored each other, their lips meeting hard and soft, searching and gentle. They may have kissed for a minute or an hour, until Ellie set her head against Henry’s neck, gasping for breath.
Her heart pounded as he dragged his lips along her hairline, twisting a loose curl around his finger. His mouth explored her cheekbone and past her ear, down the column of her neck to her collarbone, then her shoulder.
What in the devil should I do with my hands?She tightened her fingers in the fabric of her underskirt, then released and shook her hands slightly, only to fist them again. Henry’s lip lifted in a small smile as he raised her palms to rest against his chest. She felt the heat of him through his shirt, the hard planes of his body solid under her palms reminding her of marble statues butalive, his pulse thrumming beneath her touch.
Henry’s hands moved to her hips, pulling her flush to him as he dropped kisses along her jaw and down her neck, drifting across her collarbone and down to the pillowy flesh above her corset.
Ellie stiffened and tried to pull away; how could she have forgotten how positively wanton she looked in just a corset? She was too large, her busttoo much, and despite all manner of modistes attempting to contain her curves, she always spilled over in a grotesque display.
Henry relaxed his hold, but did not release her completely before meeting her gaze. “Do you want me to stop?”
“I don’t know,” she stammered. “I’m sorry, but with the corset it’s so much…”
He arched an eyebrow. “What’s so much?”
Her cheeks grew hot as she took one hand from his chest and made a circular gesture around her bosom.“This.”
Henry chuckled. “Who on earth told you there is such a thing astoo muchof these?” He cupped one of her corseted breasts, holding the globe in his palm as though weighing it, studying it reverently.
She huffed out a shaky breath. “I despise them,” she said, her control wavering as he began caressing her more firmly. “They make it impossible to dress.”
Henry’s second hand joined the first, his thumbs skating over where her erect nipples chafed against the fabric, sending a shockwave of pleasure through her. “It’s a good thing you’re undressed, I suppose,” he murmured before dropping his mouth to her chest, dragging his tongue through the cavern between her breasts.
How did he undo her so easily? Every defense she put up, every attempt to control the narrative around her figure, he countered, made her comfortable. Even beautiful.
His fingers made quick work of the ribbons at the front of her corset, but as he moved to separate the fastenings, Ellie caught his hands. “Not that,” she said, breathless. “I’m not—I don’t want—”
His eyes were so tender she nearly wept. She wanted to open herself to him, but what would happen next? Surely he would compare her to every beautiful woman he had been with and find her lacking. She would be an object of pity, an obligation instead of the object of his desires.
“Ellie.” His rough, yet patient, voice interrupted her thoughts. “I would very much like to see you,allof you.” His dark eyes were nearly black as he watched her, his gaze darting down to her chest.
She drew in a shuddering breath. “Why don’t we compromise… What if I opened it a bit?”
His hands were already there, unfastening the top few latches and slipping the shoulders of her chemise down until she feared one deep breath would expose her completely. Henry dropped his lips along her cleavage, pressing soft kisses and light touches of his lips to her skin, leaving fire in his wake. His tongue slipped just under the top of her corset to touch the tight, nearly painful bud and she gasped as sensation coursed through her. He repeated the action on her other breast, and Ellie realized she was pushing her corset down, allowing her breasts to fall free, the cups lifting them up in a bawdy display.
Henry growled, the primitive sound coming from deep in his chest. He held her breasts in his hands again, the olive skin of his fingers stark against her milky complexion. “My god, Ellie,” he rasped. “You’re…”
Lewd, distasteful, vulgar, indecent…All the words she had heard to describe her body came rushing into her mind as she braced herself for his assessment.
“Stunning,” he whispered, exhaling harshly. “Just… devastating.”
She didn’t make a conscious decision to throw herself at him, but a moment later her lips were against his, her breasts pushed against the heat of his chest, the sensation of her tight nipples against the coarse fabric of his shirt enough to drive her mad.
Henry guided her to the bed, laying her on her back and covering her with his body, never breaking their kisses. One hand slid over her hip and down her bent leg as he gathered her underskirt, while the other plumped and fondled her breast. Ellie arched her spine in response, offering herself up to him shamelessly. He took her pointed nipple in his mouth, licking then sucking the tight bud until she cried out. He continued the sensual onslaught, raking his teeth over her flesh, the slight bite causing wetness to rush between her legs.
Then his hand wasthere, right where she had become wet, where she craved his touch, where she dreamed he would be on so many occasions. He stroked her mound over the thin linen of her drawers with a featherlight touch, then her upper thighs, until she was shifting and writhing, desperate for something more she couldn’t articulate.
