Page 24 of Raked Away in September

“No,” he said quickly, but he hugged her tighter against him. “Not here. But I love that you asked.”

“You make me feel… daring.” She sighed and nestled closer. “I never dreamed that I could do something like that in public. Or at all.”

He laughed softly. “Well, I can’t wait to get you home.”

That was probably the biggest understatement he’d ever made.

The carriage ride back from Drury Lane was silent but loaded with anticipation of what would happen when they arrived home. Tamsin sat in the dark, the scent of Rowan’s leather gloves and the lingering heat of his hand between her thighs making every bump in the road feel like a jolt of electricity. They didn’t speak, but the weight of what had happened in the theater box vibrated between them like a plucked string.

She couldn’t believe what he’d done to her, how wonderful it had felt, and how badly she wanted to reciprocate the pleasure he’d given her. He’d been so generous, so patient, but she knew enough to realize that he had yet to take any pleasure of his own, and she feared that he would soon grow tired of waiting.

When they finally reached the sanctuary of her bedroom, Rowan lingered by the door, his eyes dark with desire. “I should leave you to sleep, Tamsin,” he said, though he didn’t move. “It has been a long evening.”

She could tell he didn’t really want to go, but the fact that he was willing to leave made the rest of her doubts fade like smoke in the wind. This evening had made her realize that there was no reason to put the physical part of their relationship off any longer. If there was that much pleasure to be had, what was the point? He wouldn’t hurt her. She was certain of it.

“Don’t go,” she said, her voice steadier than she felt. She moved toward him, her silk skirts rustling. “I think... I think I am finished with waiting, Rowan.”

She reached up, her fingers trembling only slightly as she began to undo the buttons of his frock coat. He stayed perfectly still, his breathing hitching as she peeled the heavy wool back from his shoulders. When she moved to his cravat, his hands finally came up to cover hers, his touch scorching.

“Tamsin,” he rasped, kicking the door shut behind him, his forehead dropping to rest against hers. “If we do this... if I stay... there is no going back to the way things were. I want you to be certain before we go any further.”

“I have never been more certain of anything,” she whispered. “The way you made me feel earlier… I want more of that. I want to make you feel good as well. I want to be your wife in every way.”

“I want that, too,” he assured her, his gaze gentle and heavy with longing. “I promise I’ll make this good for you, my darling. And if it becomes too much, please let me know. We can go as slowly as you want.”

“I will,” she assured him.

In the amber glow of the hearth, Rowan dismantled the barriers of silk and lace she wore with a tenderness that made Tamsin feel cherished. Was he starting to care for her? At least a little bit? She desperately wanted to believe it.

When she finally stood naked before him, the cool air hit her skin for only a second before he gathered her into his arms and carried her to the bed.

He shrugged out of his shirt but left his trousers on as he stretched out beside her. He lifted up onto one elbow and stared down at her, his appreciative gaze taking in every inch of her. She fought the urge to cover herself, though her entire body flushed with heat.

He’d been with some of the most beautiful women in London. Actresses, opera singers, and courtesans. She feared that he would be disappointed, but the soft sound of appreciation he made was music to her ears. Running his hand lightly down her body from her breast to her hip, he met her anxious gaze and smiled. “You are so beautiful,” he whispered before he covered her lips with his, kissing her so long and deep that she forgot to be nervous about her body, forgot to feel anything other than desire for this man, for her handsome husband who was about to make her his wife in truth.

He nudged her thighs apart with one of his, and then settled over her, the heat of his chest pressing against hers. He continued to kiss her, but one of his hands roamed her skin, learning every inch of her, and the other was braced to hold his weight.

The sensations overwhelmed her. He was so big, so warm, so strong, and he tasted so good. His hand skimmed her bare breasts, teasing her erect nipples as fire danced in her veins, and she shifted restlessly, needing more, because now she finally had an inkling of what that might be.

When she didn’t think she could stand it anymore, his fingertips drifted lower until he reached that magical spot he’d found at the theater. She moaned into his mouth as he swirled his thumb around it. When she was certain that she’d shatter to pieces as she had before, he changed direction, putting his finger inside her now.

She gasped, her eyes flying open, but he just kissed her again, his dark eyes so intense and sensual that warmth flooded her once again. “Relax, my darling. Let yourself get accustomed to having me in your body.”

She shuddered. She vaguely knew what was to come, of course, but hadn’t quite understood the mechanics of it. But as she forced herself to calm down, she found she quite liked the feel of his finger moving in and out of her while his thumb continued to rub enchanting circles on that little button she hadn’t even realized she possessed.

Then he put two fingers inside her, and the sensation was too much. That amazing feeling she’d felt at the theater flashed through her, and she shuddered, her thighs slamming together as heat danced through her. This was what they wrote poems and songs about. This was why people made fools of themselves in the name of love.

When she came back to herself, he was pressing sweet kisses across her brow, smiling at her with a tenderness and pride that made something deep inside her heart stir. She hadn’t known. She hadn’t realized that lovemaking could make her feel like this. She hadn’t expected that he’d put her pleasure before his own, because she knew enough to realize that nothing they’d done so far had given him the same satisfaction.

“How are you feeling?” he asked softly.

“Wonderful,” she breathed.

Pulling slightly away from her, he shucked off his trousers so that he was as naked as she. Rolling back toward her, he brushed her hair out of her eyes. “Would you like to touch me?” he asked. “I want you to be comfortable with my body before we go any further.”

She flushed but nodded vigorously. She’d often wondered what he looked like under his clothes, had thought endlessly about the brief glance of his member she’d gotten in the Dark Walks that night.

She pushed up onto her own elbow, leaning a bit over him, taking in the beauty of his strong, muscular body. His chest was a powerful swell of muscle, with a small patch of silky dark hair in the center of his chest between his nipples that narrowed to a thin line down the hard ridges of his stomach. His member was thick and long, and she couldn’t resist reaching out and touching it lightly. It jumped beneath her fingertips, and he let out a strangled gasp.