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Her hand was like ice as he led her towards the bed. She was trying to be brave, but her overwhelming panic was evident. He sat down beside her on the edge of the bed. By way of a distraction, he leaned in to kiss her throat again. Her skin was soft, and she brought her hands to his shoulders.

Perhaps it was better to empower her by letting her touch him first. Alaric stripped away his shirt and brought her hands to his chest. Charlotte’s cheeks flushed, but she rested her hand upon his heartbeat.

‘Is it…all right if I—?’

‘Yes.’ He released her hands, allowing her to explore his skin. Her fingers were delicate, and when they grazed his nipples, he tensed. Although he’d expected that he would find her touch pleasurable, there was something about this moment that went beyond the experiences he’d had with lovers in the past.

As Charlotte gazed into his eyes, he realised it was more than her innocence. She was trying to be a good wife to him, doing everything he’d asked of her. Following his rules.

But tonight, he wanted to give something back to her—an experience of pleasure that would take away her fear. Her hands caressed his chest, and he flinched when her fingers grazed his nipples again.

‘Sorry,’ she murmured.

‘Don’t be. But your hands are cold.’ He drew one palm to his mouth. ‘Let me warm them.’

He kissed her hand while she kept the other against his chest. Her fingers splayed out against his pectoral muscles, and then she dropped them lower to his stomach. His body reacted swiftly, fully aware that if she’d pressed only an inch or so lower, her hand would be touching his shaft.

He was already aching for her, wondering what it would feel like with her palm curled around his length. His body remembered the way she had evoked such a forbidden longing only hours ago.

Keep your distance, he reminded himself. This was about taking away her fear. Nothing more. It was a physical act, nothing emotional.

But he recognised the danger in his own marriage. Charlotte was a woman who was slowly taking apart his boundaries and slipping within the empty spaces of his life. Even now, he craved her more.

Charlotte slid her hands to his back, and he continued to trail his mouth against her cheek and then down to her ear. He drew his hands to her bottom and pulled her closer as he took her earlobe in his mouth.

A laugh escaped her. ‘That tickles.’

It broke the mood, and he drew back. But then her smile faded when she took his hand in hers. Her green eyes held him captive as she brought his palm to the generous curve of her breast. He cupped it, his thumb caressing the tight nub.

The moment he did, she bit her lip, shifting against him as he began circling the nipple. ‘It felt nice when you touched me with the mistletoe.’

Her honest confession revealed vulnerability. Although he said nothing, he deepened his caress, awakening her to his touch. She pressed her hands to his chest again, and against his better judgement, he found himself enjoying her exploration.

With his other hand, he began lifting her nightgown higher, exposing her legs. Charlotte froze, her hands motionless upon his shoulders.

‘Should I stop?’ he asked softly.

She shook her head, her expression filled with uncertainty.

But he didn’t want her worrying about what would come next. ‘Close your eyes.’

Charlotte obeyed, and he returned his hands to her breasts. Her breathing grew uneven, and he lowered his mouth to her nipple, dampening the fabric of her nightgown. She shuddered, her hands gripping his hair. He used his tongue to tantalise her, and then he reached beneath the nightgown to cup her other breast. Her curves were beautiful, spilling over his hands, and utterly distracting.

Beneath her nightgown, she wore nothing at all. The sight of her bare skin tantalised him, driving him closer to madness. He suckled her nipple, and she moaned softly.

Alaric loosened the buttons and slid the nightgown over her shoulders, dropping it on the floor. His wife kept her eyes closed, but he could see the gooseflesh rising on her skin.

He guided her to lie back on the bed, and her eyes flew open. He did nothing except stand before her as he removed his trousers. To his surprise, she reached up to help him unfasten the buttons. He seized her wrists and murmured, ‘I can manage.’ Then he removed the rest of his clothing and stood naked before her.

Charlotte blushed as she stared at him, as if to memorise the sight of him. Then she took a deep breath and parted her legs, leaning back on the bed in silent offering.

This was the moment she’d both dreaded and somehow craved. Alaric had awakened feelings inside her that made her restless, filled with yearning.

But still, he didn’t kiss her lips. It was an intimacy she longed for, but he’d made it clear that this was purely about consummation, not love. And she understood his reasons well enough.

Although he’d ordered her to close her eyes, she couldn’t help but want to see what he looked like. His body fascinated her with its hard planes, even as she was wondering how their bodies could possibly fit together.

The expression on his face revealed a fierce need that she didn’t truly understand. And although her mother had given very few details, she was trying her best to be brave. It would hurt—she knew that.