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He chuckled, kissing her neck. “But…in a way, it will never be the same again. You and I are going to remake it. We’ll build a home of our own that’s filled with love. We’ll have children that are strong and cherished.” With each sentence, he kissed her again, a bit lower. “Nothing will be entailed. It will be ours to divide freely among them.”
She nodded as his lips slid over her collarbone. He began working the buttons of her dress and the front fell open. He pushed aside her chemise, his mouth settling over her nipple. As he sucked the tender flesh into his mouth, Cordelia moaned in pleasure, tugging at his hair.
In response, he lifted his mouth and she cried out a protest, but his thumb replaced his lips, where he rubbed the wet flesh, making her absolutely ache in need. “My God, Cordelia,” he whispered. “You’re so lovely. How did I ever manage to make you mine?”
She dug her hands into the skin of his neck. “I want to see you too.”
“Ask and you shall receive.” He slid her off his lap and shrugged off his coat. His fingers made quick work of the knot in his cravat and he tossed it to the ground and then shrugged off his shirt.
His muscular shoulders and torso came into view and her breath halted in her throat. “You’re stunning,” she said as she stood to run a hand along the ridges of his biceps. “I had no idea men were so beautiful.”
That made him chuckle. “Beautiful is not the word that is usually used for men.”
“It’s apt,” she answered, circling about him as she wandered her fingers over his chest, down his stomach and then around his back. “I’d like to trace every inch of you and then sketch it to remember for all time.”
He looked back at her. “You sketch too? One woman should not be so talented.”
She laughed at that. “Not well. Not really. But I’d try for this. It’s worth it.”
He pivoted to face her again and then reached his arms around her to finish unbuttoning her gown. “Your turn, my love.”
Her laugh turned nervous. “I’m not nearly as interesting as you are.”
“I beg to differ.” The dress gave over its last button and he worked the fabric over her hips, bending in front of her.
She lightly balanced her hands on his shoulders as he knelt down and she stepped out of the dress.
He placed a kiss directly on her belly, still covered by her chemise, and her insides fluttered with longing. “Ash.”
He looked up at her grinning and then reached his hands under her chemise, sliding his fingers up her bare legs. “I love that you don’t wear pantaloons.”
“I do. Sometimes.” But a grin played at her mouth until his fingers reached above her knee. Then the grin died as she nibbled her lip.
Still his fingers slid higher until they once again reached her curls. This time she knew what it would feel like and she tensed, already anticipating the pleasure. But he stopped just short.
“Take off your chemise,” he said.
She only hesitated for a moment. She’d be near bare except for her slippers. But then she sent the fabric sailing over her head.
He drew in a sharp intake of air as he leaned back on his heels and he stared up at her. Then he reached up his hand, tracing her body with leisurely strokes. “I know what you mean about wanting to sketch. Cordelia you are…stunning.”
A flush was climbing her cheeks and she resisted the urge to cover herself. “Your turn.”
By way of answer, he stood. Underneath the nearest tree was a bed of pachysandra that he laid his coat over and then took her hand, leading her to his makeshift bed. She lay down on the fabric, surprised by how soft it was.
He sat on the bench, quickly pulling off his boots. Then he joined her on the coat, lithely climbing up her body as she shifted to lie flat on her back.
Never had a man looked more glorious and her hands reached out to pull him higher. She wanted to kiss him. Run her hands all over his back once again, but he stopped near her pelvis, placing a little peck on her hip. “Open for me, love,” he said as he started to kiss closer to the juncture of her thighs.
She did as he commanded, heat already building between her legs. He parted her curls with his fingers, slipping the pad of his middle finger through her slick folds. Her body spasmed with need even as he slid his tongue along the same path.
Stars burst behind her eyes and she squeezed them shut, winding her fingers in his hair. “Ash,” she cried out, her leg automatically hooking over his shoulder.
He repeated the same move with first his finger and then his tongue and more lights sparkled behind her lids. She wasn’t sure she’d survive the pleasure.
And then, when he worked his finger lower, into her channel, his tongue swirling circles on her sensitive nub, her entire body spasmed.
Pleasure was ricocheting through her, her hands frantically pulling at his shoulders, his hair, the back of his neck, but he didn’t relent. As he increased the pressure, the pleasure was too much and she fell over the edge, crying out his name one last time.
