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After a raw sound, he returned his palms to the door, where he pressed until his fingers turned white and the wood creaked.
She stroked his abdomen through the fabric. “You want it, too, don’t you?” Slowly, her hand moved over his taut belly, warm through the garment. She tugged it upwards, unhurriedly, until her hand wrapped around his exposed cock. Whimpering, she held it tightly, marveling at its heat, the silken skin over the hardness, and the way her own emptiness cried for it to fill her.
“Do you have any idea how much I need you? I crave every bit of you, my husband. Today when you returned from tennis, smelling like a laborer, I wasn’t offended. I was envious. I wanted your sweat to be from me, fromus. I wanted your scent on me. Your seedinme.”
“You did?” he gasped.
God help me.“I did and I do.”
She let go of him—because he turned around.
William looked almost drugged as he stared down at her, and his eyelids fluttered as he finally cupped her breasts through her gown. Moaning, he learned her shape and stroked his thumbs over her nipples.
Her breasts had changed since she was an eighteen-year-old bride and virgin. She had birthed and nursed two children, but still, he seemed as eager as she while he touched her.
In a rush, his mouth lowered to hers. The utter intimacy of his open mouth caused her to sway in his arms as her knees buckled. In a trice, he moved her as if she weighed nothing and pressed her against the door.
This wasn’t the sweet daily kiss he bestowed on her forehead. This was the kiss and embrace she had dreamed of—dark, wild, with nothing held back. The wet stroke of his tongue against hers both satisfied her and stoked a desire for more. One of his hands held her waist possessively while the other tugged at her nipple.
When his mouth trailed down her neck, she knew she would finally know the feel of his mouth on her breast. He played with her through the gown, both of his hands cupping her now, and he stared, as if torn about which one to anoint with his attention first. He tugged the neckline down, finally baring one breast entirely, and lowered his mouth.
She tried to watch the erotic sight, but her eyes closed involuntarily as unbearable pleasure gripped her. After he spent an untold time worshipping one side of her, while she stood with her head pressed back against the door, she heard a tearing sound and opened her eyes in shock.
Her once proper husband had rent her gown in half! Nostrils flared, he stood unrepentant, taking in the sight of her after the fabric fell to the floor. She swallowed and looked down at herself in the candlelight. Motherhood had filled and softened her breasts and her belly, but they looked right under William’s strong hands.
Cupping her reverently again, his eyes moved up to hers. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to do that?”
Her breathless laugh turned into a moan when his thumbs worked her nipples simultaneously. “I want you to have all of me, William.” Her hands closed over his on her mounds. “They’ve been our babes, but in this moment, they belong to you, and I want your mouth on me.”
With a strangled sound, he extricated his hands from her and stepped back, his eyes shut tightly.
I shouldn’t have mentioned the children. She had given her body to them in love and now wished to give it to him in a different loving way, and though she was certain he knew the difference, she understood it was an uncomfortable topic.
She approached him wordlessly, not trusting her words to comfort him, but when her palm smoothed over his chest—an act she had wanted to do for years—his hand closed firmly over her wrist and pulled her away from him.
“No more,” he said. “I won’t do this. This isn’t right.”
“Itis!”
He released her hand and stepped away. “Not to me!”
Blinking, she covered her breasts with her hands.
“You’re a mother, Beatrice! Act it! Our children need you, first and foremost.”
“Of course they need me, and so they have me. But—“
“You must stop lowering yourself.” His voice shook, and he couldn’t look her in the eye. “I won’t tolerate this behavior from either one of us any further.”
After he left, Bea stood in horror, staring at the door. Glancing at the candlestick he’d left, she wondered if he would return for it.
He won’t. He’s not returning this night.
She sank onto the edge of her bed, cold inside and out. She had been wrong earlier; she had more tears to give, and they fell now. Retrieving the destroyed nightgown, she took it with her to bed, balling it against her and holding it as she cried. She would have to find a way to dispense with it without anyone noticing.
Sleep nearly claimed her when she realized the best way. After donning an ordinary nightgown, she took the fragile, shredded creation to the hearth and tossed it into the flames. As the fire devoured it, she mentally cast her dreams into the flames, where they burned, too.
