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Finally, I slid my fingers down the center.
I groaned softly, arching my back in response to the touch. The wetness slicked my fingers, and I slid two easily inside myself, biting my lip to keep quiet. For a moment I could see William, feel his fingers instead of mine as they pumped themselves in and out, slick with my desire for him. I brought my soaked fingers back to the apex, and circled the bundle of nerves, writhing with every stroke, feeling the coil of pleasure tighten more and more. I just needed him to be here, to feel the wetness, all for him, all for him. I lost it, exploded, cascading down in the ecstasy, crying out as I crashed, heart pounding in my ears, and I fell asleep.
Chapter Five
Despite the changes happening inside me, much was the same. Father was only slightly improved, though talking much more than normally, planning for the upcoming holiday. Mother and I sat in the library making a new morning jacket for Father and a blanket for the coming baby of one of the women in town. Mother chatted randomly about the ball and Mr. Quinn's nephew, who she said was a fine young boy. Much finer than Mr. Blackwell. She was sure David Quinn wouldn't leave his lady friend in such a haste after a fine ride.
“Perhaps we ought to leave him to Greta?” she asked in response to my stupor. Even after the night I had, I felt wholly insatiable. In fact, it was no different that whole week.
On the day of the ball, I woke in a sweat, the freezing air kissing my skin where the nightgown had ridden up. I was drenched, my center aching to be touched again as William’s hands had pawed my breasts in my dream.
It seemed late, the sun far from touching the sky. My room was nearly black and if not for the snow and half-moon, I would have seen nothing at all. I sat up and rubbed my eyes, stumbling out of the bed onto the icy wood floor. Tiptoeing toward the fireplace, I cursed when I stubbed my toe and blindly felt for something to light it.
Striking the flame alight, I rushed back into the bed, sinking deep into the covers where my hand trailed between my thighs once more. God, how I needed him. I gently pressed at the apex of my center again, whimpering quietly, tracing around it slowly, painstakingly, picturing William above me, his mouth on my nipple and his hand inside me.
There was a dark chuckle from the doorway, and I sat up with a start, blood pounding in my ears.
Standing inside my room, holding a stack of white boxes and an oil lamp, was William.
I blushed hotter than the fire, shame turning my stomach. How much had he seen? How much had he heard?
He simply closed my door behind him and set the lamp on the nightstand, placing the boxes on the chair beside my bed. When he faced me, his eyes were blazing bright.
“And what have I stumbled upon here?” he asked, his voice that of a hunter who had found his prey. He crossed his arms over his chest and I swallowed loudly, the throbbing in my center all the more prevalent now, hidden beneath the blankets.
“Don’t stop on my account, please,” he said, walking around to stand at the foot of the bed, leaning over to rest his hands on the footboard. Shadows danced under his eyes, and there was something about the set of his mouth, so predatory, the key to my undoing.
All I could focus on was his face. His animalistic features, as if he’d cornered me and was about to feast.
I hoped he would.
“Well?” He was supernatural, the depth of his tone…
I released the covers, letting them fall to my hips, letting him drink in how my nightgown had become askew, the neckline falling from my bare shoulders. I let his eyes roam over my breasts, hardened at their peak, and under his gaze they felt full and heavy. I hoped he saw the flush of my skin, the blatant hunger in my eyes.
“What are you doing in here?” I breathed, idly running my fingers, still wet from inside me, along the neckline of my nightgown. His eyes trailed them, no doubt noting how they glistened in the dim light of the fire. His throat bobbed, and there was something about it that filled me with a sense of power, with absolute lust.
“Good morning, my lady,” William said, his voice rough. “I brought you a gift, but it seems I’ve been given a sort of gift as well.” My skin heated at the thought of this,a gift, and I watched him intently as I let my hand fall further south, down over my breast and my stomach, under the blanket where my nightgown bunched at my hips. His hands tightened on the footboard, knuckles turning white and wood groaning with the strain. I wet my lip.
“And what gift have you been given?” I asked him, not recognizing my own voice. He smirked, snatching the comforter off my bed in the blink of an eye, exposing me completely to him. I gasped, gripping my nightgown, and tucking it between my legs. William made a guttural sound in his throat.
“You, my darling, are the gift I have been waiting for my entire lifetime.”
And even in the firelight, below the desire and carnal urge that was ever present on his face, I could see the sincerity of it. He really believed that.
William pulled off his navy jacket, tossed it to the side by the white boxes in the chair. I watched the way his muscles rippled against his shirt as he hastily undid the top few buttons, climbing over me.
Slowly, gently he eased me on my back with one hand, supporting himself with another, until he was completely above me, barely pressing me with his body weight. I could scarcely breath, heart thumping in my chest.
Something brushed my leg, something bulging against his trousers and my heart skipped a beat as I looked up at him, knowing full well what it was.
Gingerly, William eased my legs open wider, rolling off of me and onto his side, his hair brushed my cheek as he carefully lifted my nightgown once more. He watched my face for any command to halt, but I simply let him. It seemed the only sound in the room was my panting breath.
I let him widen my legs further still, my nightgown riding up to my belly button, my mind swirling. I wasn’t sure if I could formulate words. I let him caress the inside of my thigh as my hips arched, beckoning for his fingers to greet the center of them. I felt wholly inundated, watching his hand drift closer and closer to my middle. There, he sucked in a sharp breath, dragging a finger so slowly through the wetness. Losing all sense of self, I moaned, lifting my hips to meet him, encourage him. Did he know I’d been fantasizing about this not moments ago?
“Rose,” he groaned, slipping a finger, then two, inside of me. I flexed my hips once more, clenching as I cried out. He found his rhythm, thumb working on the bundle of nerves the whole time. “Shh, darling, shh,” he crooned, kissing me to trap the building moans, letting me work his hand. The pleasure at the base of my spine was building higher and higher, I couldn’t breathe, grasping his shirt, clawing his arm, biting his lip, so lost in the experience of him filling me.
Filling me. Oh, I needed him inside me. Faster, harder still he fucked me with his fingers until I gripped his wrist and stilled him.
