Love Lessons at Midnight

by Shirl Henke

  Gabrielle’s soft fragrance would soon tease his nostrils, her silky touch inflame him. Butterfly wings! Butterfly wings! He gathered all the self-control he could muster for the night ahead.

  By the time he heard the soft swish of the opening door across the room, he was rock hard. His breath came in barely stifled gasps. Then a small, cool hand touched his face, caressing his brow, brushing the hair back.

  “Mon commandant is happy that I have returned, oui?”

  “Do we resume where we left off last night?” he asked hoarsely.

  “Hmmm…” She appeared to consider as she placed one knee on the mattress. “A woman is not a…how would you compare it…a coffee grinder? Left sitting half filled with beans, one can simply begin to turn the handle again and, voila, it starts just where it stopped before.”

  “Then tell me, how does a woman work?” he asked.

  “We begin with kissing my wrists…then my arms…”

  “Then your throat…” His voice was muffled as he took her hand in his, turning it palm up to start the butterfly wings beating once again.

  He only prayed that he had learned his lessons well enough to progress beyond kisses this night.

  Chapter Five

  Moving slowly, he continued kissing her palm and fingertips while he sat up on the bed facing her. Then he proceeded up her arm until his mouth finally reached her throat. He felt the madly beating pulse in the tiny hollow at its base. She was as excited as he! A surge of pure joy jolted him. She trembled and moaned softly when he buried his hands in her hair. “ ′Tis like silk,” he whispered, gently tugging her head back. “I would love to know its color.”

  Neither wanting to lie nor daring to tell the truth, Gabrielle arched her neck to distract him with an invitation. When he nibbled his way over her chin to her lips, she eagerly waited for the next kiss. But he stopped. “What is wrong, mon cheri?”

  Rob remembered the libation he had shared with Lady Fantasia only a few hours ago. “I taste of cognac. Will that disturb you?” he asked.

  Gabrielle felt a deep warm glow at his consideration. She bracketed his face with her hands. “All that disturbs me, mon commandant, is that you have stopped. I would taste this cognac…to see if it comes from a fine chateau,” she whispered. “We French are experts.”

  He rimmed her lips with the tip of his tongue; then when she opened to him, he made a delicate invasion. Their tongues danced, tentatively at first, then with increasing ardor. He could feel her hands buried in his hair, tugging at his scalp. She gave herself so eagerly, returning his kisses with fire. When he felt the lush softness of her breasts brush his chest, his arms naturally pulled her closer.

  Gabrielle almost panicked. He was big, powerful, male. She could feel that power in his embrace. But he is also kind and gentle. Pulling her mouth free, she murmured against his throat, “Let us try something new…s’il vous plait?” She placed her hands against his chest and separated them. As before, he released her immediately, although she could tell by his breathing that he did not want to do so.

  Rasping, he asked, “What is this new thing…please?” His fingertips lightly traced circles on her upper arms, as much to distract himself as to please her. He felt ready to spill his seed without so much as a touch on the rock hardness of his erection.

  “Kneel facing me,” she commanded softly.

  He complied. When she took his hands in hers and placed them around her breasts, he gasped. “They are not large…” she said hesitantly.

  “They’re perfect,” he murmured, feeling her nipples through the sheer silk of the tempting concoction she wore. He squeezed gently, or what he thought was gently.

  Gabrielle wrapped her small hands around his wrists, making a shushing sound, restraining him. “You must begin slowly, softly.”

  “Yes, butterfly wings,” he whispered ruefully, letting his fingers glide around the upthrust mounds until he could feel the nipples tighten and hear her breathing catch. She arched forward, encouraging him.

  “You must learn to feel a woman’s reactions. Does she offer herself or draw back…how does her body move? How does she…breathe?” she said, trying to be pedantic, but he was teasing her nipples so they burned and tingled, growing ever more sensitive. She guided his hands so that he cupped a breast in each palm as if weighing them.

  It seemed natural to let his thumbs press on the tips and make circling motions. “Do you like this?” he asked raggedly, feeling certain she did. He felt an irresistible urge to use his mouth on them, but before he could ask, she spoke.

  “It is time to remove this barrier between us,” she said breathlessly, reaching down to lift up her gown.

  Rob could feel the whispery fabric brush against his erection and groaned, but fought the urge to push her backward onto the mattress and proceed. If the room had not already been ink black, he would have felt blinded by his need. No—butterfly wings, he reminded himself…butterfly wings! She placed the silk in his hands and guided him to raise it slowly over her head, lifting her arms to assist him. Then he sent the soft bit of fluff sailing away in the darkness. She was as naked as he!

  “What now?” he asked, unable to stop his hands from returning to her breasts.

  “Let us explore…I will go first, oui? Then you follow.”

  “Oh, oui, mai oui,” he replied as her nails raked lightly over his chest. He never imagined that flat male nipples could feel such sharp pleasure.

  She felt his heartbeat pound as she pressed her palms against his hard pectorals, delighting in the crisp hair sprinkled across them. “You speak French, mon commandant!” she asked, certain he did because all educated Englishmen learned, with varying degrees of skill.

  “Well enough, I suppose,” he replied raggedly in that tongue.

  His accent was very good. “Then let us continue making love…in the language of love,” she said in flawless Parisian French. She moved her hands up to his shoulders and glided over the flexing steel of his biceps, holding on to him, dizzy with breathless excitement. “Now it is your turn,” she whispered.

  Following her lead, he glided his palms over her bare breasts, down her rib cage, to the narrowness of her waist. “ ′Tis so tiny I can span it with my hands,” he said in wonder, drawing her closer as she held on to his shoulders.

  Gabrielle loved hearing him speak French in deep, breathless whispers. Arching her back, she raised her breasts like an offering, using one hand against the back of his neck to draw his head downward.

  He groaned when his mouth found a hardened nipple and suckled on it. She gasped, seizing his head with both hands. When she grabbed fistfuls of his hair and drew him closer, she writhed with the scalding pleasure. “The other one…do not neglect the other one,” she whispered.

  Rob moved from one breast to the other, using his tongue as he had done during the kissing instruction. Her sharp little cries of pleasure lured him on to bolder action. He nuzzled the vale between her breasts and brushed her nipples with his lips, tugging gently on them with his teeth, then drew a pear-shaped globe into his mouth until she moaned.

  After several moments of the exquisite ecstasy, Gabrielle knew she was slipping over the edge. He murmured soft love words to her in French as he lavished her breasts with caresses that stole her reason. She must not let her own body’s hunger, her desire for this man, blind her. He had come to learn what was required to bring a lady to culmination. A lady… She felt a sad, sudden twist deep inside her and knew it was her heart’s pain.

  She also knew she must do what was right for him. There would be reward enough for her before their assignations ended. Ever so slowly, now feeling assured that he would follow her lead, she pulled away with a breathless murmur. “Lie back and I will lie beside you.”

  Breathing hard, he lay down but kept his arm around her waist, pulling her to his side. He was careful not to let her near the painfully sensitive hardness of his sex, which was straining for—and so dangerously close to—release. He wanted to ask
her if she felt as he did…but was damned if he knew how, or even if, a woman achieved the same kind of release as a man.

  In his limited experience, he had never known one who genuinely did, although the Spanish camp followers had feigned pleasure. But then they had gotten up and walked away as soon as they were paid. This felt a world apart from those brief and tawdry encounters. He reached over and stroked her breasts, letting his hand trail down her belly, so soft and flat, toward the apex of her thighs. When he drew near the mound, he hesitated.

  Gabrielle knew this was the moment. She would find out if he could bring her what she had only been told existed…what he wanted to give the woman he intended to marry. Please, let it be possible! Taking a shuddering breath, she said, “Do not be afraid, my love.” She moved his hand over her mound, into the soft curls. He sucked in his breath.

  He heard her breathing grow ragged when he touched the heated center of her body and felt her petals. “You’re wet,” he said in English before he could think better of it.

  “Pleasure…excitement causes a woman to…to release moisture,” she reassured him.

  He rubbed his fingers delicately against her satiny heat until she cried out when he separated her petals.

  “Ahh!”

  He stopped. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No, no! Please, continue…only go softly, slowly…” She guided his hand until his fingers, those long beautiful fingers, found the rhythm she craved. He patiently stroked her, his senses newly attuned to the subtle nuances of her body. She arched her hips against his caresses, urging him on without needing to say a word, although her small moans and gasps of excitement spoke volumes.

  Suddenly she tensed and then shuddered, almost coming up off the mattress with a keening cry. Her hands clawed at the sheets as she felt—really, truly felt for the first time in her life—that culmination she had only heard other women describe. Words could never do justice…Her world spun out of control for what seemed like an eternity.

  Rob knew the rhythmic pulsing he felt at her core must mean she had achieved release. Surely a woman could never feign such a thing. In spite of the intense ache of his own unfulfilled needs, he felt jubilant. He had given a woman pleasure—real pleasure, not the cold, lifeless acceptance of a wife’s duty or the counterfeit fervor purchased with silver.

  “Did I please you?” he asked, praying he was right.

  In answer, Gabrielle rolled across his chest and began raining kisses over his face and neck, crying joyously, “Yes, oh, yes, a thousand times yes! It was…” Words deserted her, so she used her mouth another way, kissing him deeply, with such fire that he groaned and wrapped his arms around her.

  “Now,” she murmured against his throat, “it is time for you.”

  Rob started to roll her onto her back, but then stopped as a sudden thought struck him like a lightning bolt. Why had he never thought to consider it before this! “Gaby…” How in bloody hell did one ask about preventing conception? Courtesans knew, but Gaby had not been with a man since being raped. “Have you…? What I mean is…could my seed take root inside you?” he blurted out, then cursed silently for his awkwardness.

  “Lady Fantasia has shown me what to do. Never fear, my major, I am protected—but you are kind to ask,” she murmured, caressing his cheek and drawing him closer once more.

  Rob required no further encouragement. He parted her legs, prepared to enter her, but she pressed her palms against his chest. Stifling another groan, he stopped…barely. “Please, have mercy, Gaby,” he whispered fiercely.

  “Oh, I intend to be very…merciful,” she whispered in return. “Now lie back.” He complied. “Remember what I said about exploring bodies…hmm?”

  A smile touched his mouth in spite of his extremity. He was learning far more than he ever could have imagined. What a remarkable creature his lady in darkness was!

  She sat up and let her hands glide down his chest, following the narrowing arrow of body hair over the hard muscles of his abdomen…“You are very strong,” she cooed breathlessly, pausing only long enough to feel his body tense in anticipation. “And very much a man.” Her hand closed around his staff, grasping it, feeling its heat. “It is so smooth…and long.”

  “Does that please you?” He could barely get the words out.

  “All of your body pleases me. Women enjoy the freedom to touch, to become familiar with a man’s body…to admire its power…provided…”

  “Provided…?” He spoke through gritted teeth now.

  “Provided the man has a body as splendid as yours.”

  He had never imagined touching his naked body could bring a woman pleasure. Oh, women admired his face and form in public, but that was entirely different. She leaned over him and kissed him, her breasts pressing against his chest, her hair spilling around his shoulders like satin.

  “Now,” she murmured against his mouth, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. He rolled on top of her without breaking the kiss, his hands caressing the curve of her spine, the flair of her hips. He worshipped her body as she had his. How could any woman resist parting her thighs, inviting him? “Please, come inside me…but…do not end this swiftly as nature urges you to do.”

  He paused at the entrance to paradise, aching yet amazed. “You can…you can do it again—this way?” he blurted out.

  “Not this time, I think…but your pleasure will be greater if you prolong the culmination…and I have not been taken by a man in so long that…you might hurt me if you rush.”

  He felt a wave of tenderness mixed with the breathless excitement that inflamed him. “I would never hurt you, Gaby,” he whispered.

  Ah, yes, you will…but not in the manner you imagine. “I trust you, my love,” she murmured.

  Tamping down the fire raging through his blood, he brushed the head of his staff against the creamy moisture of her petals. They felt swollen. She made a slight sound—discomfort or excitement? He was not certain. Setting his jaw, he held still for a moment, waiting for her signal. “Are you all right?”

  The concern in his voice made her heart ache for his sweet intensity. “Please, this feels wonderful,” she whispered, burying her mouth against his shoulder.

  When she arched and clamped her thighs around his hips, he pressed down, easing an inch into her. Then he forced himself to stop. She was incredibly tight, every bit as much as—no! He would not think of Credelia now, lest his manhood desert him. “My little one,” he murmured in French as he kissed her temple, her nose, then her mouth, urging her to return the fevered caresses.

  His mouth was magic, but his staff was stretching her, bringing back the old terror…yet she realized that this time there was no pain. She was not exactly certain what it did feel like, other than fullness, the merging of his body with hers. Concentrate on the kisses! She felt him ease a tiny bit deeper, shaking with the strain of holding back when she knew he wanted to blindly plunge.

  But he will not do that. He will not cause you pain. She arched her back, allowing him to move deeper, accommodating slowly to his size and hardness.

  Rob felt her tightness enveloping him. Losing control would be all too simple. But he would never forgive himself if he hurt this sad, loving woman. Gaby had suffered so much already. Holding on to that thought, he eased in a tiny bit at a time, waiting for her body’s signals that she wanted him to proceed. The creamy moisture still slicked his path. That was a good sign…was it not? He kissed her deeply and sank farther into the drowning well of bliss.

  When her nails dug into his shoulders, he stopped. “Am I going too fast?”

  Gabrielle shook her head, murmuring, “No, no…I feel like Cook’s Christmas goose being stuffed. He has a very large hand, our cook. And you have a very large…” A small breathy laugh surprised her. She had not intended to say that!

  “Flattery, Gaby?” he managed to ask. Rather than unmanning him, her disingenuous humor only increased his ardor. “Perhaps it is not that I am so large as that you are so small,” he sa
id hoarsely.

  Without speaking she had to use her body to communicate so that he would understand what his bride wanted, even if the lady was too shy or inhibited to speak. One gentle undulation of her hips seemed so natural that she felt certain any woman at this point would react the same way. It produced the desired result.

  Rob buried himself completely in her, then held still, letting the blissful feeling wash over him, struggling to control his passion. Your pleasure will be greater if you prolong the culmination. She was indeed the perfect teacher for him. After a moment, she gave another gentle lift of her hips. He raised himself and stroked very slowly downward. His reward was a soft sigh.

  That was encouragement enough for him to begin slowly thrusting, feeling her reactions, alert for any indication that he was causing her discomfort. Quite the opposite, she clamped her thighs tightly around his hips and kissed him hungrily, urging him on with breathless little moans. Her hands splayed across his back, her fingers kneading his flexing muscles.

  Deep inside her, Gabrielle felt that delicious scalding urge start to build again. But she knew she could not ask him to wait for her. Sweat slicked his powerful body, yet he moved slowly, carefully, savoring the pleasure he was giving as well as receiving. For now, the fulfillment of their joining would be enough for her. After all his patience and the gift he had already given her, she must reciprocate.

  There would be time enough for them to climb the heights together another night. She arched, digging her nails into his back as she returned his kisses fiercely. He thrust faster, harder, almost bringing her along with him, when she felt him shudder and his staff swell deeply inside her, then pulse its life into her body.

  Rob had never before experienced such ecstasy. All past encounters paled to insignificance, utterly forgotten as the intense release washed over him like a great tidal wave. One slim woman possessed the power to bring him to such heights. As his heartbeat thundered, he collapsed, rolling to his side so as not to allow his weight to crush Gaby. When she continued to cling to him, it felt natural to hold her in his arms, stroking her hair, raining soft kisses across her face.