He glanced down at the way the featherlight fabric of her shift skimmed the rounded globes of her bottom and fell just shy of her knees, leaving her pretty shaped calves in their delicate stockings exposed for him to enjoy.
She was better than any picture he had ever seen.
He caught her around the waist a handspan below her fabulous heavy breasts and stroked over the magnificent swell of her hips and down her thighs to the hem of her chemise.
She swallowed.
He smiled at her shyness. It was a delight to find a woman who retained a little of her innocence after her marriage, despite his very real puzzlement over it. Most married women, in his experience, became bold and often assertive in a way that left a man trying to catch up. Not that he often had that problem, but he could see how some men might have trouble.
He spun her around to face him. She looked so adorable, so pink-cheeked, something welled in his heart. A need to bring her great pleasure and see her smile.
He caught her under her thighs, lifted her, while she clung on for dear life, the soft hazy look in her eyes, fading away. He managed to sweep back the drapery and expose a narrow cot. He almost groaned out loud, whether because it was so small or because it was a bed—finally.
It did not matter which. He lowered her to the pristine white cover and when she was sprawled there, looking up at him with eyes large and anxious, he knelt beside her on the floor and plundered her mouth.
Chapter Ten
Despite that she still retained her shift, the way Avery looked at her made her feel naked. Vulnerable. Exposed. What did he see when he looked at her like that? A large woman, who men did not usually find attractive? A chore he had contracted for that he would like over and done with as soon as possible so he could be on his way?
Her breathing, shallow and fast from their kiss, began to slow. Her heart that had been beating with excited anticipation only a few moments ago was now pounding with fear that he would walk away. That once more she’d be left, embarrassed, humiliated and alone.
There was nothing she could do except lie there and wait for his rejection.
‘My word, but you are beautiful,’ he murmured, his voice deep and husky. His gaze ran down her body, clearly seeing right through the filmy fabric that now was drawn tight across her breasts and draped over her hips.
She glanced down along her length, aware that her breasts rose like twin peaks in a mountain range and that the nipples were as hard as beads. They lifted the fabric in a most unseemly way. Instinctively she raised her hand to cover her lack of modesty, but he caught them in his. He kissed each of her fingers in turn, make her insides melt and those little nubs on her breasts tingle with anticipation that he might kiss her there, too.
Never had she had such an unseemly thought in her life.
‘Carrie,’ he said softly.
She forced herself to look into his face, braced herself to see the distaste, but found nothing but heat and sensual pleasure. It shocked her to the core. Her body tightened unbearably.
‘Yes,’ she managed, though her throat was dry and her voice sounded raspy.
‘Darling,’ he murmured. ‘I want you so badly.’
A ripple of pleasure moved out from her core.
‘I—’ She cleared her throat. ‘I want you, too.’
There, it was out in the open for him to do with as he willed. At least with her husband she hadn’t said anything quite so foolish. She’d simply nodded when he’d said he was leaving. He’d apologised, for he had been a gentleman, but that hadn’t made her grief any less painful.
The horrible thing was that she had been unable to grieve when she’d heard the news of his death, for she had already been dead inside. But now, it seemed as if this moment had washed all of that bitterness away and her body had finally come to life.
He rose to his feet, his gaze never leaving her face, and undid the buttons of his coat.
Oh, good lord, she was going to do this. She really was.
Her body began to shake, to quake as if the bed was rocking beneath her. She gripped the covers to hold herself steady. To stop herself from fleeing.
Fortunately, Avery didn’t notice her panic as he was stripping off his jacket and moving with an efficiency that brooked no turning back.
Carrie took a deep breath.
* * *
The bed might be small, but the woman laid out before him like a banquet was the most sumptuous morsel Avery had ever set eyes on. He could not wait to taste her delights. About to pull his shirt over his head, he suddenly became aware of her terror.
It chilled him to the bone, like a dip in a frozen pond.
What the hell had her husband done to her? Instead of leaping on her and devouring her, as he had been inclined to do, he sat on the edge of the bed and removed his shoes, stockings and after a quick glance in her direction, his breeches. Oh, she was definitely nervous. Leaving his shirt on, he stretched alongside her on the narrow bed. She shifted over to give him room.
Or to give herself space.
He rolled on his side. Clearly, for all her boldness, her willingness to say what she wanted, she needed careful handling. Something had happened in her past that made her skittish.
He cradled her face in his hands and kissed her lips, tasting her sweetness, feeling the rise of her passion as she gave herself up to pleasure. Against his mouth, her full lush lips felt like heaven. The way her tongue responded to his invasion of her mouth, dancing in perfect harmony with his, fuelled his desire.
She rolled towards him, wrapping her arms around him, a soft hum of pleasure vibrating against his chest, where they touched. He eased his thigh between hers and, a moment later, her leg was wrapped high against his hip, the heat of her centre scorching his skin, making him dizzy with lust as if he was some sort of schoolboy, not a man who had bedded some of the most beautiful women every country had to offer.
He had thought himself somewhat jaded. Instead, here he was panting after this woman as if she was his first venture into bed sport. Madness. And utterly delightful.
Slowly he broke their kiss and, gazing into her face, he saw the haziness of desire and longing, along with the signs of arousal. Flushed skin, parted rosy lips and heavy-lidded eyes. A beautiful passionate woman. Why any man would leave such a wife and go off to war he could not imagine. He ran his hand down her spine, coming to rest on the swell of her hip. Slowly he caressed every inch of her back, her bottom, her upper thigh, while nuzzling at her neck, learning the places that made her shiver and those that made her gasp, and those that caused that delightful little hum of pleasure in the back of her throat.
When his thumb touched the underside of her breast, her breath hitched, but it was not fear this time, or not really. It was more like nervous curiosity. He took his time stroking her creamy flesh, while he dropped kisses on her throat, the pulse point in the hollow of her throat, upper chest and finally at the top of the magnificent rise of her breasts. She shuddered with pleasure.
He palmed the luscious fullness, gently kneading the bounteous flesh until her hips undulated against his groin. He bit back a groan, but held himself still, leaving it to her to discover just how hard he was, while he finally achieved his goal with his mouth. He licked the hardened nub of her breast through the fine lawn fabric of her shift.
‘Oh...’ She sighed against his shoulder, her hands sifting through the hair at his nape and sending shivers all the way to his shaft.
He was going to...
Shocked, he took a deep breath, regained control and eased her on to her back the better to pay attention to her other breast, massaging and kissing to the music of her sighs and moans. Her hands wandered his back in light stroking circles. Her thighs parted and he nestled into the cradle of her hips. A perfect fit for once. Because of her height, they were groin to groin. A most pleasurable sensation. Intensified whe
n she wrapped both legs around his hips. She wanted him closer.
But first there was the issue of their clothing. He stroked one hand down her thigh, until he found the hem of her chemise, easing it upwards until it would go no further. He knelt up.
Her eyes fluttered open, anxiety filling her expression as if...she expected him to leave? Or was she fearful of being seen in all her glory? Far more likely, she was simply a particularly modest woman. He let his gaze roam her body. ‘Beautiful,’ he said. ‘Gorgeous.’
A hesitant smile curved her lips.
‘Will you let me see all of you?’ he asked, twitching the bottom of her shift.
A blush suffused her face, but she nodded and lifted her hips and then her shoulders to help him pull it over her head. Now all she had on were stockings that ended just above the knee, tied with little blue garters. The curls at the apex to her thighs were light brown and her rosy nether lips beckoned seductively. Her breasts were full and bouncy with rosy nipples. So erotic.
‘That is the loveliest sight I have ever seen,’ he said, glancing up at her face, but her gaze was focused on his torso, on the place with his shirt tented over his erection.
She licked her lips and his shaft jerked in response.
She started and her gaze shot to his face.
‘He likes that you are interested,’ he said. ‘Do you want to see?’
A little jerk of her head he guessed was a nod of agreement. How very nervous she was, like a bride on her wedding night.
The thought shocked him. He was a man without illusions. He knew women liked to act innocent, but usually he could see right through their wiles. With Carrie, though, he never quite felt sure if it was an act or not. Mostly because she was always so brutally honest. Pushing the nonsensical thought aside, he grabbed the back of his shirt and leaned forward to pull it off over his head.
Then down his arms, exposing his chest.
He almost laughed at her disappointed glance at where the shirt lay in his lap. That pouting look he could certainly interpret. A woman deprived of a treat she had expected.
He bundled up the shirt and fired it off at the kitchen chair.
She came up on her elbows to look at his erection, providing him with a perfect view of her bounteous breasts. He reached out and gently cupped them from the sides, feeling their soft weight in his palms. A touch on his shaft had him hissing in a breath, but she was too intent on shaping the crown of it to notice. She traced a fingertip down his length and gave his balls a little poke. She frowned.
It all became as clear as day. Her husband had been one of those men who took his pleasure without thought for that of his partner. Which meant Avery would have to make up for the lack.
* * *
Carrie knew what men looked like—how could she not when there were naked statues all over the place? She just hadn’t expected to be so entranced by the sight of him fully aroused. To find herself gazing at him in awe and wonder at the contradictions. His member was so much darker than the rest of him and jutted towards her in a most intriguing way, while the other parts were surprisingly soft and silky.
Now some of the things her aunt had said to her before her wedding made a lot more sense. But she really didn’t see how there would be enough room for him inside her body. Or he was bigger than a normal man. Certainly, she’d never seen one on a statue that looked as if it could possibly grow to that size.
He reached down and took her hand in his, cupping her hand around the soft part below the...penis, she remembered it was called. He used his hand to stroke her palm against him and it felt like marbles inside a velvety sack. He released her hand and she continued to gently massage, feeling the rough hair against her skin with the silky softness beneath. She smiled shyly up at him. ‘I love the way it feels. Do you like this?’
He was watching her with hooded eyes, his expression dark yet somehow soft. ‘Yes, it is exceedingly arousing. I like this, too.’ He grasped the shaft in his fist, stroking up and down.
She followed his example and he threw his head back with a groan of pleasure.
Then his fingers burrowed into her nether curls and parted her cleft. And suddenly she was melting from the inside out. She collapsed back on the pillows, unable to support herself. Something inside her tightened, then flew apart. Like magic. Blissful. Amazing. Otherworldly. Her legs and arms felt like lead. She gasped for breath.
A soft curse caused her eyes to open. His expression was ruefully amused. ‘You came faster than I expected,’ he said. He looked pleased.
The words made no sense to her.
He leaned over her, one hand beside her head, the other between them. For a moment, she thought he was going to work that amazing magic again, but he was pushing something into her and then, yes, that lovely sensation again, as he thrust his hips forward.
The part of him she thought too big.
A pinch of pain. She winced with a little cry of protest and opened her eyes. She’d been right.
Hanging over her, he was frowning like a demon. His expression gave the impression he was in pain.
‘Does it hurt you, too?’ she asked, though her mouth felt dry and the words seemed difficult to form, she was still breathing so hard.
He shook his head. ‘It is not possible.’
Her heart missed a beat. Was this why her husband had left her? ‘It doesn’t fit?’ Disappointment filled her.
He made a choking sound. ‘Oh, it will, but we will have to take it slowly. Tell me if I hurt you.’
She lay frozen, rigid, waiting for pain, but then he started to move, slowly inching forward and back with a kind of rocking motion of his hips and it felt...nice. More than nice. And then he used his hand in that other place and the tension she had felt before started to build again. Higher, this time, with the stimulation on his hand and his member inside her.
She closed her eyes.
‘Carrie, look at me,’ he said.
She forced her eyelids open. The intensity on his face was almost scary. The tendons in his neck stood out under his skin, his shoulders blocked the light from the room and he continued to move, until she did not think she could stand it any longer.
Again, that feeling of shattering some sort of barrier, so much more intense than before, and she was flying apart into a thousand tiny pieces. Sinking into some sort of abyss where all she could hear was her breathing. And his. He made a soft sound and withdrew from her body, rocking hard against her hip for a moment or two and then sank down on to his side to lay beside her.
He drew her into his arms and kissed her forehead. ‘Lovely, lovely girl,’ he murmured into her hair. ‘Oh, my sweet child. Why didn’t you tell me?’
Tell him?
His breathing deepened. He seemed to have fallen asleep. She lay in the circle of his arms, her head on his chest, her heart still racing as if she had run a mile. Why hadn’t she told him what?
Chapter Eleven
Avery slowly came to. Replete. Content. Blissful.
And then he remembered. Damn it all.
What an idiot he’d been not to recognise the signs. But honestly, when would any man expect a widow to be a virgin? It was almost beyond the realm of possibility. But apparently not entirely, since the evidence was right before him. And perversely he was pleased.
When he ought to be furious.
He glanced down at where she lay nestled against his chest. Her eyes were closed and she was breathing evenly, but she wasn’t asleep.
‘Well?’ he asked.
‘Well, what?’ she responded in a very small voice.
‘Why did your husband not do the deed?’ Dash it, that didn’t sound exactly right. He gentled his voice. ‘I do not understand why a married woman would still be a maid.’ That really wasn’t much better. Hell, how did he ever end up in this situation?
A small sound st
ruck him through the heart. Dear God, was she crying? He’d made her cry? He wanted to leap out of bed and run a mile. Instead, he drew back, lifted her face until she had no option but to look at him and wiped her eyes on the corner of the sheet. ‘What is it, Carrie?’
She sniffled.
He didn’t even have a handkerchief to give her. She pulled something out from the tangle of sheets and wiped her nose. Her shift, he realised. He gently stroked her arm. ‘Hush. It is all right. It doesn’t matter. I was surprised, that was all.’ Shocked, more like it. Such a mess. ‘I would have been a lot more careful had I known. I hope I didn’t hurt you too badly?’
‘Oh, no,’ she said, her voice sounding watery and full of sadness. ‘It was lovely.’
Then why did she sound so miserable? True, he could have done a whole lot better if he had not been blindsided, but it wasn’t that awful surely?
She sniffled again and mopped up her tears with the scrap of fabric.
What else could he say? Perhaps her husband had been unable. Hell, that would send a man off to get killed in the war, wouldn’t it? And he could just imagine that scene playing out. A man’s worst nightmare that.
‘He left me the moment the ceremony was done,’ she said softly.
He frowned. ‘Right after?’
‘He escorted me to the suite of rooms he had booked for us at the hotel, where I was to change before the wedding breakfast, and I never saw him again. Our few guests were waiting for us to make our appearance, but he never returned. The next day, I learned that he had gone to join Wellington’s army.’
The forlornness in her voice nigh on broke his heart.
Something that should not be happening. Hadn’t he heard enough sad stories from the ladies he escorted about to harden him to the vagaries of his fellow man? Of all the tales he’d been told, though...
A Lord for the Wallflower Widow Page 15