AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Chapter Twenty
Marcella was at a loss to explain what precisely she felt. In all the world of literature, all those stories of ladies who fell in love, she’d only ever heard of delicate fluttering, metaphors built on the wings of doves and butterflies. This feeling was unlike any of those. It was neither gentle nor fragile, but instead an emotion raw and passionate.
When Reginald pulled his cravat free, discarding the starched garment on the floor, Marcella’s breath gave an involuntary hitch. His smirk was devilish, and she distinctly felt as though she was witnessing the rebellious side of him, the part of him which had been bred in Southwark.
“Shall I undress you?” Reginald asked. “It seems such a shame to hide such a beautiful figure beneath that gown.”
Marcella smiled, floundering for her wit. It was difficult, though, because the most peculiar, hazy heat had spread through her body. Her delicate lady parts had begun to tingle. It was an ache which she’d never experienced before, and it bloomed between her thighs.
“I think you’d best,” she said. “It would be quite uncomfortable if we were to bring a maid in here.”
Reginald approached her respectfully and slowly, but Marcella could feel his eagerness in his fumbling hands and his burning gaze. He took her gentle gown and slowly pulled it from her body. The gown was cast aside, the beautiful white and silvery embroidery falling carelessly on the floor. Marcella’s breath came in hot, heavy pants. Her breasts strained against her chemise and stays.
Reginald slowly took the hem of her chemise and slipped his hand beneath it. Marcella grasped the blankets behind her and shifted, placing her rear on the linens to aid her balance. Reginald’s hand touched her thigh, and Marcella shivered. When he moved his hand higher, tracing circles on her delicate skin, she arched her back. A whine tore from her throat, so high-pitched and needy that she could scarcely recognize it as her own.
“Are you enjoying that?” Reginald asked, his voice a low rumble.
“Yes!” she gasped.
His fingers caressed the inside of her thigh and traced the curve of her hip. Marcella had the feeling that she was doing something rebellious, sinful even, for it seemed utterly unthinkable that a man’s touch could feel so wonderful. Her fingers curled around his shoulders, pulling him nearer as he continued tracing his fingers along her thigh. Reginald was touching so precariously close to that one place where Marcella most wanted him to touch.
When he removed his hand, Marcella felt a sudden absence of warmth and an oppressive cloud of cold. She groaned and tilted her hips against him, her body brushing against his thighs.
“Good God!” Reginald exclaimed.
A breathless laugh fluttered from Marcella’s throat. “Don’t bring him into this!”
Reginald grinned and unbuttoned his jacket, followed by his shirt. Marcella watched with breathless fascination as he undressed. His chest was broad and so well-muscled that he could’ve been a marble statue. Marcella’s hungry gaze traced the line of his abdomen and down further. He removed his shoes and slowly rolled down his trousers.
Marcella drew in a sharp breath at the scene now revealed. She’d never before seen someone’s manhood. He seemed impossibly large, and Marcella’s legs quivered at the thought of him being inside her.
Reginald stepped out of his clothes and stood entirely nude before her, appearing far more at ease than she was. “What are you thinking?” he asked.
“I’ve heard that this hurts,” Marcella whispered. “I want to do this, but I’ll confess to being just a little frightened.”
“It doesn’t hurt if you’re careful,” Reginald replied. “I’ll be very gentle with you.”
He kissed her and pressed his weight against her. Marcella kept her lips against his, kissing him feverishly. Her fears melted away in the face of his most ardent affections. She groaned into his mouth, conscious of his fingers fumbling with the laces of her stays. As the garment fell away, a feeling of weightlessness fell against her breasts and ribs. He gazed at her with reverence, as if he’d never seen anything so wondrous in his life.
Reginald broke the kiss. His hand cupped one of her breasts, kneading it beneath the thin fabric of her chemise. Marcella’s nipples stuck out from beneath the confines of the material, and when Reginald rolled one between his fingers, it sent an ache to Marcella’s thighs.
“Beautiful,” Reginald muttered.
Marcella had been called beautiful so many times in her life, but she’d never thought highly of that particular compliment. So many gentlemen called herbeautifulthat the word seemed to lose all meaning, but when Reginald called her that and palmed her breast, she felt the sincerity of his declaration all the way down in the depths of her soul. He kept petting and stroking her breasts, so Marcella’s nipples lengthened like tiny rosebuds. She shivered, feeling exposed in the most wonderful way.
Reginald took a handful of her chemise’s hem and pulled it up and over her head. A shiver traced along Marcella’s spine. She was now completely exposed to his eyes and to the cold of the room. “Lay back,” Reginald murmured tenderly. “I’ll be gentle, and I promise you’ll enjoy yourself. I’m told it’s bad manners to leave a ladyunsatisfied.”
Marcella carefully lay back on the bed. Her hair spread like a halo over the softest pillow she’d ever laid upon. Reginald kissed the inside of her thigh, and Marcella felt as though he worshipped her. Certainly, he gazed at her as if he thought she was the only woman in the world. His hands curled around her thighs, stroking and rubbing. Reginald seemed as though he wanted to touch every inch of her. He traced his hands slowly over her hips and stomach, her ribs followed by her breast. Reginald worked his way down, his hands just barely touching her in a way that sent shivers coursing through Marcella’s entire body.
He trailed kisses up her thigh, each one leaving fire in its wake, and Marcella shifted her hips, trying to draw her body up and nearer to him. After an eternity of kisses and gentle strokes, Marcella felt as if she’d been submerged into the most pleasant fire. The world around her seemed somehow more glorious than ever, brighter and sweeter.
Reginald leaned over her and kissed her throat. Marcella curled her fingers in his hair, encouraging him to do more and pull himself nearer. His breath was like a branding over her throat. “I hope you’re ready, Marcella.”
Her eyes flickered to his manhood; it had changed, becoming hard and stiff. As her gaze lingered on the organ, her toes curled. Marcella had the feeling that she was doing something untoward, despite knowing that every married woman went through this same experience.
“Yes,” she breathed. “Oh, yes.”
She was ablaze and aching with desires she didn’t have the words to express. Marcella felt as if she stood on the threshold of something exciting and new, as if the morning was dawning, and she hadn’t seen the sun in a millennium.
