Without him asking—thank heaven—she parted her legs. They’d skipped a step—or ten—had they not? But what did he truly know?
Would she mock him if she knew he, too, had “saved” this act for his wedding night?
Damn his romantic soul.
Yesterday, after all the ladies in the household had taken themselves off to bed, Harbury—slightly tipsy—had posed a question to his closest friend, his sworn brother: Howdidone bed a virgin?
Adrian’s answer?Good God, man.And then, a moment later.You’re serious, aren’t you?
He’d only nodded.
Adrian had swallowed roughly, shrugged, then suggested,gently?
Not comprehensive as instructions go.
Harbury’s explorations with Viv constituted the sum of his carnal experience. Viv, whom he’d loved, and who had allowed his hands and lips, but nothing more, to wander freely. On the shameful times he’d given into temptation and pleasured himself, he’d only had images from what he’d seen in forbidden books.
Thank God there’d been no witnesses present then, either.
How disconcerting to have what had been off-limits now presented to him without restriction—a living, breathing, willing,beautifullady. How was bedding her not only permitted but hisduty?
As tenderly as he could, he drew up her rail. He caressed her mound, causing her to make another, unintentionalyip, but his fingers came away damp and glistening. He couldn’t help himself. He took in the scent.
“Harbury!” she gasped.
Fire burned in his cheeks. “I need to make certain you are ready…”
Her gaze fixed on his hand. He knew she hadn’t understood, but she answered, “I’m ready.”
“Yes,” he agreed. “But this may still hurt.”
“Iknow.” She sighed. “Please, just…just…go on.”
Her “encouragement” landed as an accusation. But why should he feel wounded? Of course, she wanted the first time over and done with. She was embarrassed.
So was he.
Very well. He’d a task to complete, and, truth be told, a cock more than eager to participate. He might as wellgo on.
Careful to support as much of his weight as he was able, he positioned himself. Then, murmuring a soft apology, he thrust his way into a tight, slick passage fiercely protesting his invasion. Even so, a spasm of pleasure briefly blanked his mind.
Good God, St. Michael, and all the bloody dragons that ever lived.
The warm, wet sensation engulfed and shocked him, but nothing could have prepared him for the unbelievable experience of being joined. He wasinsidea lady—hislady. A visceral, spontaneous bond slipped into place. Instinctively, he set his cheek against hers, crooning unsummoned words, words of comfort, assurances the pain would soon be over.
Her limbs grew pliant. Was her body merely accepting the inevitability of surrender?
Hiswas vibrating with song.
Her breasts caressed his chest as she adjusted herself beneath him. Hesitantly, she placed her hands on his shoulders.
“That’s better,” she said against his neck.
Yes.So much better.
He withdrew, only to thrust into her again—ungracefully, at first, but soon enough he found the rhythm. Her fingers trembled against his shoulders, then pressed harder, as if she couldn’t decide whether to push him away or pull him closer.
Her hot breath fanned his ear. Her eyelashes tickled his cheek. More, he thought,more—while teetering on the edge of…what? Oblivion?
