He nodded.
“If you’d like,” she said.
“I would. I dreamt of what it would feel like to have my hands in your hair,” he admitted, leading her to the chair. She took a seat and inhaled softly when his fingers speared her curls in search of the pins. “How many should I expect to find?” he asked, his thumb and forefinger already plucking out one of them.
“Only five, I think. My lady’s maid is quite stingy with them.”
Although the first pin didn’t dislodge the mass of curls, the removal of the second and third pins did, and Matthew emitted a sound of appreciation when the red tresses fell past her shoulders. “Is it always this curly?” he asked, his fingers smoothing through the locks to ensure he had removed all the pins. He turned and dropped the hairpins onto the dresser next to her reticule.
Catherine shook her head as she ran a hand through the curls. “My entire life,” she said on a sigh. “Has yours always been so dark and silky?”
He chuckled softly as he helped her to stand. “My entire life.”
They stood and stared at one another for several seconds before he lifted a hand to the side of her face. “Have you… done this before?”
“Of course not,” she replied.
“If you change your mind, or—”
Her lips on his ceased his words, and as one hand braced against his shoulder to keep her upright, she undid the buttons of his topcoat and waistcoat with her other.
Matthew chuckled as he broke off the kiss. “We have all night,” he whispered, shaking off the two garments to toss them onto the chair.
“Will you help with my gown?” she asked, turning to present her back to him.
Instead of undoing any buttons, he lifted up the sides of the gown and pulled it over her head, eliciting a gasp of surprise from Catherine. He draped it over the back of the chair and went to work undoing the ties of her petticoats and stays.
“As I was saying, if you should change your mind—”
“I won’t.”
“I will do my best to ensure you don’t experience any discomfort.”
“I’m aware of what’s about to happen.”
Mathew blinked. “You’ve no doubt read every book on the subject,” he murmured.
“The drawings were far more helpful.”
“Drawings?” he repeated in alarm.
“Color plates, too,” she said matter-of-factly, stepping out of the pool of muslin that had fallen to her feet. She shed the stays and allowed them to join the petticoats on the floor, her only remaining garments her stockings and a chemise.
Matthew swallowed. “May I ask what it is you’re… expecting me to do?”
Catherine gave a start, her attention going to the four-poster bed. “Well, I’d thought you’d have me kneeling on the bed, and then you would… mount me, much like a stud horse, and—”
“I willnotbe doing that,” he interrupted.
How unexpected. The books, though informative, apparently weren’t informative enough. “Then… whatwillyou be doing?” she asked, watching as he removed his boots and stockings. She marveled at how he was able to do it without sitting down.
“First, I’m going to see to it you’re ready for me,” he replied.
“I’m quite sure I already am, if the…throbbingI’m feeling here…” she motioned to her core and took a steadying breath, “is what you mean.”
Matthew dipped his head. “First, I’m going to see to it you’re ready for me,” he reiterated, stripping off his shirt.
Catherine couldn’t help her inhalation of breath at seeing his bare chest. Dark hair covered most it, and from there, a triangle of it pointed down past the top of his breeches.
