She snuggled closer to him as usual, and he formed a protective cocoon with his arms around her.
He was happy just holding her.
Everything else could wait.
* * *
The storm had calmedduring the night, and in the morning, bright sunlight poured from the porthole. The sea was a blue slab of calmness, all innocence.
Isabella stirred in his arms.
“Good morning.” He released her.
She stretched her arms over her head. “It seems like a good morning indeed. No more jolts, and finally sunlight.”
“How are you?”
Her cheeks were cautiously rosy. “Better.” She touched her belly. “The flatbread worked. I’m almost hungry.”
He beamed. He didn’t remember the last time she’d said she was hungry. “Excellent. We’ll have breakfast together in the dining hall. The view is wonderful.”
She stretched out again, yawning.
Her breasts pressed against the thin fabric of her chemise. He could make out her taut dark pink nipples. The temptation was too strong, and he ran a finger across her collarbone, touching the hem of her chemise. A flush crept over her neck to her cheeks, and her chest rose.
“Sorry.” He started to withdraw his hand, but she stopped him.
“Don’t stop. I like it. Please.” She put his hand on her chest.
Heart pounding, he trailed his fingers lower until he brushed her nipple through the fabric. She let out a soft moan as her nipple hardened. He could spend the whole night just caressing her curves and hearing her breathing.
“I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than you,” he said, brushing her breast again.
“Even now? I’m a scarecrow. Thin, pale, and wrinkled, not to mention chronically sad.”
“Even now. I don’t see what you see. I see a beautiful woman who charms me every time she smiles, talks, or simply exists.” He cupped her breast, feeling its softness in his palm.
Her lips flushed red and parted as he rubbed her nipple with his thumb. He slowly opened the front of the chemise, uncovering her beautiful breast. When he touched her again, she arched her back. Little moans came out of her as he rolled her nipple. She squeezed her thighs together.
He could watch her for hours, listening to her moans. When he sucked her nipple into his mouth, they both groaned. He ran the tip of his tongue over the hardened peak, and she tangled her fingers through his hair, pulling it.
“You can touch me more.” She took his hand again and placed it between her thighs.
He slid his fingers past the opening of her drawers to find her deliciously wet. “Does it hurt?”
She breathed hard. “I’m a little sensitive.”
“We should wait.” He went to remove his hand, but she stopped him.
“We’ve been married for a couple of months now, and we’ve never been together in bed properly.”
He rubbed her nipple again. The temptation was too strong.
“You can…I mean, I’m ready. Dr. Norris said you won’t hurt me.” She stroked his jaw, starting a series of shivers down his body. “You’ve been very sweet to me, but I know a duchess must produce an heir and a spare, and that’s the least I can do to repay you for your kindness.”
He stopped touching her, a bitter taste in his mouth. Now he wanted to throw up. “I want to be with you. More than anything. But only if you’re happy, and not because you think it’s your duty as a duchess.”
Her eyebrows knit together. “It came out wrong. It came out horribly wrong. What I want to say is I’m ready.”
Yes, but he wanted her to be eager, passionate, and enthusiastic, not just ready as if she were talking about having surgery.
He brushed her chin with his thumb. “We have time. And I want you to be absolutely sure.” He kissed her cheek and lingered for a moment on her soft skin.
Her eyebrows knit together. She didn’t say anything, but he could almost hear her thoughts.
“We haven’t consummated our marriage,” she whispered.
“Trust me, I’m painfully aware of that. But I don’t want it to be just an act. I want it to be meaningful and beautiful.”
And he wanted her to desire him as much as he desired her.
