Page 71 of Dare it all for Love

Henry sent her a devilish look, his eyes glittering with mirth. “Ah, now I have your attention, do I, wife?”

Florence swallowed as he leaned in and nuzzled his face against her stomach. Her chemise was very fine, almost transparent, and his warm breath reached her skin, sending little shivers fluttering over her belly. Both hands were beneath her chemise now, stroking her bottom as Henry kissed his way across to her hip bone.

“Take it off,” he commanded.

With hands that were not entirely steady, Florence reached for the hem and pulled it off over her head, leaving her in only her stockings. Henry stared up at her, his gaze raking over her with such heat and admiration it felt like a caress.

“I can’t believe you are real,” he said, his voice low and rough. “My word, Florence, I don’t know what the devil I did to deserve you, or to make you believe that I do at any rate, but… thank you. Thank you for choosing me.”

Florence’s vision became a little blurry, but she smiled at him.

“You’ve too many clothes on, Henry,” she said. Her voice was a tad wobbly, but she was determined not to be shy and missish. “Do get a move on.”

He gave a bark of laughter and got to his feet, shedding clothes at a quite astonishing rate. She had always admired Henry for being so elegantly dressed, never a crease or a hair out of place. The way he discarded his clothes now, flinging them hither and yon with abandon, it was hard to believe it was the same fellow, but she appeared to have motivated him to hurry up with no trouble.

Florence stared as he tugged off his shirt, watching the play of muscle as he moved. She had known he was an athletic sort, but she had not been prepared for the strength of him. He had broad shoulders and powerful arms, and his chest was lightly covered with dark hair that led off in a thin trail which disappeared beneath the waistband of his trousers. His upper body was as tanned as his face, and she wondered where on earth he’d been to wander about with no shirt on under the sun. Her question must have been evident in her eyes, for he smirked at her.

“I did a lot of sailing. There’s no one to see if you’re hot and take your shirt off when you are miles from shore.”

“Oh,” she said, at a loss for anything more sensible to say except, “You are very fine, Henry.”

“I’m relieved you think so,” he said, and her breath caught as he shucked his small clothes and kicked them aside.

Florence stared. Mama hated that girls were not educated as their brothers were and had always been very frank about explaining things most people thought young ladies ought know absolutely nothing about. Sex was no exception and she had prepared Florence for her wedding night with quiet, no-nonsense explanations, and a few medical drawings which she said would make seeing her husband for the first time less of a shock. Well, it had worked… up to a point. That point being that Henry was rather magnificent and looked nothing like a dusty medical drawing.

Good heavens.

Something hot and impatient uncoiled in her belly and Florence swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry.

“Are you going to start babbling again?” he asked her, a mischievous glint in his hazel eyes.

It took a moment for her to unglue her tongue from the roof of her mouth, but she managed a taut nod. “It is a distinct possibility, once I remember… er… words.”

He laughed and strode to her, sweeping her up in his arms. “Well, that’s the biggest boost to my ego since you kissed me in the shepherd’s hut.”

Florence squealed at the sensation of being lifted in his arms, his naked body against hers.

“Well, someone had to do something,” she said, striving for dignity, which became impossible as he dropped her onto the mattress and she bounced, much to her husband’s approval from the look in his eyes. “Because it was clear you would never kiss me, no matter how I encouraged you. You were so troublesome, Henry. I thought you would never touch me.”

“I didn’t dare,” he said, climbing—no, prowling—across the mattress as he crawled over her.

“Whyever not?” she asked, her breath catching at the look in his eyes.

“Because I knew it would end like this,” he murmured, and then his mouth was on hers, his body flush against her body, and the shock of his skin, so hot and hard, pressed against hers, was a delirious pleasure. He lifted his head to gaze at her. “You bewitched me from the first, you little she-devil, but I had to make a show of putting up a fight, at least.”

“Utterly pointless,” she said, gasping as he trailed hot kisses down her neck, across her collar bone, and made his way to her breast.

“It was utterly pointless,” he agreed amiably, and then his mouth closed over her breast and any further conversation became impossible. He teased and tortured the tightly furled bud of her nipple before trailing his mouth across the valley between her breasts and starting all over again. When he finally raised his head, Florence was breathing hard.

“Fair warning, I am going to kiss you everywhere,” he said, watching her expression intently.

Florence nodded, quite happy with this plan.

His lips quirked. “My, my, not even a little scandalised?”

She shook her head. “Mama warned me,” she said, somewhat smug though the words were too breathless to sound sanguine.

“I see,” he murmured against her skin. “I shall have to try harder, then.”