Just One Kiss

by Dayna Quince

  He took her hand and helped her into the tub. He was correct. It was comfortable for her size, but she didn’t want to be the only one vulnerably naked.

  “Won’t you join me?”

  He seemed a bit startled by the idea.

  “I… all right.” He began to unbutton his shirt.

  Hazel waited, keeping her gaze on her hands as they waved through the water but aware of his every movement. He sat on a stool next to the tub to remove his boots and stockings, and then stood to remove his pants.

  “Scoot forward,” he said thickly.

  She did without looking at him. Her skin felt like it was on fire.

  He got in behind her, his legs stretching out on either side of her, his bent knee’s level with her shoulders. The tub wasn’t big enough. They would not be comfortable for long here. She tucked herself into a ball, too timid to touch any part of him though it was impossible not to. As he settled, he pulled her back between his legs. She could feel his rigid manhood against her back. She bit her lip and closed her eyes. She leaned back against his chest. She could feel a sparse covering of hair against her back. It intrigued her.

  “We’ll definitely need a bigger tub if we make a habit of this.”

  Hazel still couldn’t find words.

  “Are you all right?” He tried to look at her face.

  She nodded frantically. There was no use hiding it. She was mortified, curious, and a whole jumble of new emotions she couldn’t identify. She started to giggle.

  “I sincerely hope that giggling is not a precursor to hysteria.”

  “No.” She tried to breathe through her giggles.

  “Good.”

  Hazel finally regained control. She relaxed somewhat. She felt his hands in her hair.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Washing your hair. I didn’t realize how much of it you had.”

  “My mother won’t let me cut it.”

  “Do you wish to?”

  Hazel shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. Half of me wants to do something daring, but the other half is terrified of straying from what I know to be familiar and safe.”

  “If you want to be daring, you may be as daring as you wish with me. We are in a bath together. Some would consider that to be daring.”

  Hazel knew exactly who.

  “How shall I be daring?”

  Her husband’s hands moved to her shoulders, slippery with soap as they rubbed at the tense muscles.

  “I’m enjoying touching you. Perhaps you may enjoy touching me?”

  Hazel looked down at his legs. She poked one with a fingertip. He chuckled behind her. She felt it more than she heard it. She grinned and relaxed against him a little more. She put her hand on his knee and slid it down to his ankle. His skin was slick and the hair was soft bristles against her hand. She’d never touched a male limb other than an arm and certainly not as naked as the day he was born.

  Her fingers passed over the ripple of a scar on his shin. “What happened here?”

  “I don’t remember. Mrs. Beasley, she’s our housekeeper whom you’ll be introduced later, said I fell down the stairs.”

  “How awful!” Hazel rubbed the scar with her fingers.

  “I’m sure it was at the time,” he quipped.

  She set her hand on his other leg and began to explore. She liked it. Finally, she would have all her curiosities and questions about the male body answered. She tentatively stroked her hands above his knees, but her movement was too limited to go any higher than just above his knees.

  His hands were moving, too. Cupping her shoulders, trailing hot water up and down her arms and, occasionally, they would drift over her collar bones and she would tense.

  “Relax,” he whispered into her ear. She tried, but the more he touched her, the more her skin tickled with awareness of him. She was vibrantly aware of his arousal against her lower back like a hot brand to her skin. She stilled as his hands drifted lower over her upper breasts, teasing her senses. She was surprised to find that she wanted him to touch her breasts. She relaxed against him, her nerves on fire, but wanting to encourage him. She didn’t have to wait. As soon as she nestled back against him, his hands slipped into the water, cupping her.

  She had to stop herself from squirming nervously. His thumbs brushed over her nipples, and it felt so wonderful, her skin erupted with goosebumps. Hazel didn’t know what to do with her hands so she picked up the soap ball and cloth and began to lather her arms.

  “Here, let me.”

  She handed him the soap and cloth.

  “Lean forward.”

  She did. He soaped her back. He pulled her back against him again and washed her front, spending lots of time on her breasts. Hazel giggled.

  “Are you ticklish?”

  “I didn’t think so.”

  He moved to her stomach, gliding over the nervously taught planes of her abdomen. Hazel found herself unable to draw deep breaths as his hand moved lower. She felt herself tense, her skin coming alive under his hand, her nerves firing excitedly in new ways. He reached past her belly button. He then slowly circled back in a sweep across her upper midriff, then down his hand went further, touching her most private of places and the mysterious curls of her womanhood. Hazel held her breath. His fingers touched her mons gently, then searched deeper into her folds. She released a small exhale before sucking in much-needed air.

  Her whole body tensed in anticipation, like it does right before one is doused in cold water. She was waiting for some startling emotion or significant sensation, but his fingers only explored softly, probing her softness, finding a delicate point in the hood of her sex and gently stroking. Hazel involuntarily squeezed her knees together.

  “Relax,” he breathed in her ear.

  But she couldn’t. The sensation was so foreign and acute, a tingling tickle that only demanded more once stimulated. She wanted to move, to sooth it herself, but she didn’t know how. Her hips twitched on their own. Hazel bit back a moan.

  “Yes,” he encouraged her. “Do you like the way I’m touching you?”

  She nodded. She couldn’t speak when her mind was so focused on this feeling. He delved deeper, touching the core of her body, his fingertips toying with her entrance. A heady sensation took over, a spreading warmth that filled her limbs with weight. Her legs fell open a little, and his touch grew firmer. He stroked his hand over the sensitive bud, and Hazel surprised herself by lifting her hips to chase the movement of his hands. He slid one finger inside her, a small intrusion she hardly noticed before he retreated again to tease her once more.

  Now Hazel was growing impatient. She liked that feeling he created when he touched her little bud. She wanted him to do it again and again. He repeated the movement a few more times and then his finger slid deeper, filling her virgin passage and massaging it. But this time, he kept his thumb on her bud, and the feeling was so wonderfully intense, she moaned.

  She sound embarrassed her at first. Her cheeks burned, but he continued on as if he hadn’t noticed. She was determined not to make such a sound again, but then he inserted another finger, filling her further, and his thumb was moving in circles.

  Another moan escaped her. Hazel clamped her lips shut and gripped the sides of the tub. She was nearly consumed by the wicked sensations between her thighs. The pleasure radiated out to her limbs, to her stomach and chest, taunting her with an urgent need she didn’t understand. She let her head fall back to his shoulder on the verge of begging him for something, anything to appease this overwhelming need. Light shimmered behind her eyelids as she squeezed them lightly.

  “Let go. Let it come.”

  Hazel had no idea what he meant, but as he said the words, an ethereal pleasure shimmered through her and she cried out. She clamped her hand over her mouth. She could feel his chest rumbling against her back. Was he laughing? Growling?

  She blinked her eyes open, on the verge of apologizing for whatever insanity had overcome her.

  She t
urned to look at him over her shoulder. His head was thrown back, he was grinning.

  “I…” She swallowed. She could feel a wave of humiliation threatening to swamp her.

  “You were brilliant, Hazel.” He leaned forward and his arms came around her. He hugged her tightly. “That was the most erotic thing I’ve ever done.”

  Hazel was lost for words. She just didn’t understand anything that she was feeling.

  “I’m afraid I don’t know what I’ve done.”

  “You’ve made me an exceedingly happy man—that’s what you’ve done.”

  Hazel frowned. She could feel his ardent hardness against her back still and thought of the illuminating pleasure he gave her. “I’m not aware of doing anything.”

  “Come. The best is yet to come.”

  Hazel leaned forward so he could get out of the tub and accepted his help in stepping out. He picked her up, skin slick and wet, and carried her to the bed.

  “Shouldn’t we dry ourselves?”

  “There will be plenty of time for that later. I need you.” He set her down on the bed.

  His voice was gruff, his grinning smile gone. He looked very serious. He laid down on top of her, their skin sliding together in a shocking way to Hazel.

  “Oh!” She gasped.

  “I’ve never wanted anything as badly as I want you, Hazel.” He caught her mouth in a kiss.

  Hazel stilled. She gave herself to the kiss, something she was familiar with, and let everything else fall away. He pulled one knee to his hip and then the other. He was now cradled between her thighs and she could feel the blunt hot head like a brand against her. She could feel her own flesh, slick, giving to his probing, stretching and accepting. It was not painful until he came to a halt. She tensed the kiss no longer able to mask the new sensation of him inside her.

  “Relax, Hazel. It will soon feel just as good as what I did in the tub.”

  Hazel wasn’t sure she believed him. “I trust you.”

  He withdrew just a little. Hazel had her hands on his back. She felt the muscles shifting and tightening. He thrust into her powerfully, seating himself fully.

  Hazel felt the air escape her lungs. A pinching burn had replaced all the lovely feelings from before. She bit her lip anxiously, bracing herself for more of the unpleasantness. He stopped moving, pulling away to look down at her.

  “Am I hurting you?”

  “No,” Hazel lied, but she couldn’t stop her grimace when he moved just the slightest.

  “I am,” he said remorsefully. “I’m sorry, Hazel. It is just the way it is at first. I promise it will get better.” He kissed her brow, and then he kissed her nose. He peppered kisses over her cheeks and lips, and then from her jaw to her neck.

  As long as he didn’t move from the waist below she could enjoy it. Her favorite new thing was kissing. She could kiss him all day and night. She let herself relax, exploring the firm muscles of his back and moving her hands lower. She kissed him back wherever she could, his shoulders, his neck. She’d forgotten about the pain until she felt him move again, it wasn’t good, but it wasn’t bad either.

  He caught her gaze as he pushed up to look down at her. “Slowly now.” He began to move.

  Hazel found it easier to bear when she lifted her knees high and wide.

  “Yes,” Garrett closed his eyes and groaned. It was taking everything in him to go this slow.

  Hazel liked the expression on his face. It was a little bit tortured and unguarded. She set her hands on his chest, exploring the taut muscles while he moved slowly, filling her again, this time more deliberately, and he rubbed against her sensitive bud.

  She inhaled. There was that feeling again. Each time his hips met hers, it was like a spark of pleasure. She focused more on the pleasure of their meeting bodies, and less about the pain inside until the pleasure smothered it all together. She took a deep breath and let herself relax a little more. Her hands wandered to his hips, and then around to his buttocks. She felt wicked and wanton, but his grunts and moans increased when she touched him, and she liked it. He came down on top of her again, her breasts rubbing against his chest, and the pressure on her bud increased tenfold. She was lost now, her own moans mixing with his, her eyes closed as she pressed her cheek to his shoulder and rode the wave of his thrusts.

  It was better as he promised, so much better. The tingle that she experienced in the tub had grown into an inferno of need and ache. She chased that feeling, now knowing it lead to wonderful places. She found herself there rapidly, holding onto him tightly, her nails scoring the skin of his lower back. When she held him tightly, the pleasure was intense.

  “Hazel,” he groaned. “Come with me Hazel.”

  She didn’t know what he meant by that. She was clinging to her own pleasure, riding it toward the zenith she craved. She cried out, reaching her peak, her body exploding with decadent bliss.

  Garrett thrust home one last time, his body climaxing with relief as joy flooded his veins. He tried not to crush her as his arms gave out and he collapsed onto her. He rolled to the side just enough so that she could breathe freely. He waited for his body to stop pulsing and then slipped out of her and wrapped her in his arms. He laid there, the sounds of their breathing filling the room. He couldn’t find enough brain function to speak, so he simply waited.

  Hazel closed her eyes, a profound tiredness coming over her. She inhaled deeply, a new scent that was theirs together filling her nose and her head. She liked it. She hoped he didn’t have anything more planned for them because she was quickly falling asleep and didn’t think she would be able to wake for days.

  Garrett was aware when she fell asleep. Her breathing changed and her body relaxed fully. He grinned. Sleeping was a wonderful idea. He pulled the coverlet over them and let himself fall asleep, too. But before he did, he had one last thought. He was convinced marrying Hazel was the best, most intelligent decision he’d ever made. This was happiness.

  Chapter 5

  It was evening. Mary had arrived and was putting her clothing away. Hazel was enjoying another bath while Garrett was working in his study. The day had been a dream. She’d never imagined herself spending hours in bed naked with her husband could be so comfortable. She’d learned so much about her own body in that time and all the ways it could feel wonderful. She’d learned so much about his as well, and it fascinated her. How did men sit comfortably with their parts always between their legs? She hadn’t asked that question, but she felt so comfortable with him now that she might in the future.

  Mary joined her and helped her wash her hair.

  “How did you manage without me?” Mary said as she dried her hair.

  Hazel bit her lip and shrugged.

  Mary giggled. “I suppose I ought to not ask such questions when the answer is easily guessed by the color of your cheeks.”

  “Hush, Mary.” Hazel couldn’t hide a smile.

  “I’ve put all your clothing away. Your room is lovely.”

  “It is though I think I will change the color scheme.”

  “Yes, ma’am. You do favor lighter colors, I’ve noticed.”

  “Yellow has always been my favorite. It’s so bright and cheery. What is your favorite color, Mary?” Hazel slipped into her dressing gown.

  “I’m partial to pink. It’s so lovely on flowers. Don’t you think?”

  “Yes, pink is a very pretty color,” Hazel agreed.

  They walked back into her room and Hazel sat before her vanity so Mary could brush out her hair. Earlier, Mrs. Beasley had come and introduced herself. She apologized profusely for not having the staff ready to greet her at their arrival. Hazel assured her it was perfectly fine. They were not meant to arrive until that evening, which was precisely when Mrs. Danford would arrive. Hazel had thought of little else since remembering that sobering fact. She dressed. Garrett and she had discussed having a private dinner in their room, but now that they wouldn’t be alone, Hazel thought she might try to start a better relationship with
Mrs. Danford. Why, she hadn’t the faintest idea. If she could, she would never set eyes on her again, but unfortunately, the woman made her home here, too.

  “Mrs. Danford has arrived,” Mary said as if they had been sharing thoughts. “Her maid was making her a tisane when I went downstairs during your bath.”

  “Is she ill?”

  “Emily, her maid, said traveling gives her a tender stomach.”

  “Oh, how unpleasant.” Hazel sent a silent prayer above giving thanks for not having to share a coach with the woman. “I suppose she won’t want to dine with us,” she said with relief.

  “One can hope,” Mary quipped.

  Hazel grimaced. “I should inquire after her health, shouldn’t I?” Hazel stood and dropped her dressing gown while Mary lifted her shift and then her gown over her head.

  There was a knock on her door. Mary went to answer it as Hazel sat and put her stockings on. She could hear the visitor was a woman. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but she could hear the tone, and it was rather strained.

  “Mary, is something amiss?”

  Mary came back into the room with another maid on her heels. “Ma’am, may I introduce Emily, Mrs. Danford’s lady’s maid.”

  “How do you do, Emily? I hope your return home was comfortable.”

  “Thank you, ma’am. It was. Mrs. Danford requests your presence at dinner in the formal dining room. I was instructed to inform you. Good evening.” Emily turned heel and left the room.

  Hazel blinked as she watched the maid depart.

  “There you have it. That sums up Emily’s personality.”

  “Don’t be unkind, Mary.”

  “I don’t want to be, but the woman is as personable as lye soap. She must be to tolerate Mrs. Danford.”

  “Mary.” Hazel scolded. “We are…” She was going to use the word guests but stopped herself.

  Mary arched a brow as she waited for Hazel to finish.