by Jane Goodger
Rose walked in front of him, clearly nervous, then turned and seemed to wait for him to take the lead. Charlie felt far more nervous than he was allowing her to see; he had never taken a virgin and wasn’t entirely certain how to proceed. And this was Rose. He walked around the room, taking in the Chippendale furniture, the rich, velvet curtains, the large four-poster bed. In one corner was a small collection of rocks and seashells, ordinary enough, but Charlie knew they were somehow important to her. She’d let a small bit of herself into this room, after all. Undoing the buttons of his jacket, he turned to her and smiled, trying to put them both at ease. When he’d returned to his home to retrieve a rubber sheath, he’d been livid. How dare she? How could she possibly use him for stud services, to prepare her for the man she would eventually marry?
He was not a man to be controlled by anger, but by God, he’d wanted to hurt her the way she had hurt him. Then he’d found he had no stomach for it. One tear, one shaking hand, and it was all he could do not to gather her into his arms and beg her to let him love her.
“This will be better if we are both unclothed. Would you like me to assist you?” he asked solemnly.
He saw her swallow and attempt a smile. “If you would. I dismissed Stacy and I can hardly call her back now with you here.”
Charlie walked up to her and moved to her back to begin working on the small buttons that fastened her dress. It was a practical piece of clothing, thank God, and something he could easily tackle, despite the faint tremor in his hands. He was as nervous as he had been when he’d been a lad about to make love to a woman for the first time.
Little by little, he exposed her smooth, perfect skin as she stood, stock-still, hardly breathing, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. He pressed his lips against her back, right between the delicate curves of her shoulder blades, and smiled when he heard her breath quicken. In no time, the dress was dispensed with and Rose made short work of a small mound of petticoats before she began untying her corset cover, revealing to his heated gaze the most glorious sight of her standing before him in her corset, stockings, and bloomers. Charlie, unable to resist touching her again, reached around and cupped her breasts briefly and kissed her neck before untying the laces to her corset. Despite the passion they had shared the night of the ball, he wasn’t certain how aggressive he should be. He wanted to shove down her corset and push his cock against her derriere, but he knew if he did that, it would frighten her, and he no longer had any wish to do that.
Once her corset was cast aside, he pulled down her bloomers, ignoring her small sound of protest, then slowly pulled down her silk stockings. She had, he thought, the most charming derriere he’d ever seen, round and plump and perfect for a man’s hands.
“Turn around, Rose.”
He heard her release a shaking breath, and then she turned, completely naked, her hands fluttering upward briefly, as if she wanted to cover her breasts, then resisted the urge. He let his eyes drift down her body, unable to quite believe he was standing before the woman he’d adored for years. “You are perfect, love,” he said. His hands shook with the need to touch her and his arousal would have been clearly evident should Rose have had the courage to look down. He held out his arms, scarecrow fashion. “If you would, madam, I do not have a valet at the moment.”
She let out a nervous giggle. “I’m completely naked,” she said unnecessarily.
“Indeed you are. And soon I shall be, too. Start with the cravat, if you please.”
And there she stood, her perfect uptilted breasts just inches from him as she began untying his cravat, her brow furrowed in concentration. His tie, his braces, his shirt, his undershirt, all removed and discarded unceremoniously on a nearby chair. She paused to look at him standing in only his boots and trousers, allowing her eyes to go no farther than his chest. Her cheeks flushed. “You are quite masculine,” she said.
“A good thing for a man.”
“Would you do the rest, please?” she asked, her eyes briefly touching upon his obvious erection. Brave girl.
“I will. Why don’t you go lie on your bed and I’ll join you momentarily.” His politeness made him nearly laugh aloud. He was never polite in the bedroom and found it quite amusing that he was being so now. What he wanted to do was lift her up in his arms and throw her down onto the bed and thrust inside her to finally relieve the ache that had plagued him since the day he’d seen her outside his home.
Rose hurried to the bed, drew back the covers to the very end, and climbed in to lie there uncovered like a statue staring up at the ceiling. Smiling, Charlie walked over to the bed and took in her clenched fists, her flat stomach, the dark patch of curling hair at the crest of her thighs, as she stared upward. “A lovely sight,” he said. “I could stare at you all day.”
She let out a squeak, then quickly turned over.
“I think I like this view even better, Rose,” he said, teasing her. She took a pillow and put it over her head, letting out another sound of embarrassment. My God, he could look at her backside for hours.
When Charlie was completely nude, he sat on the bed and placed one hand at the small of her back. “Rose.” He waited for a moment. “Rose, I know you can hear me even with that pillow over your head.”
She thrust the pillow away and looked at him, rebellion in her eyes.
“You asked me to do this for you. Do you still want to?”
She stared at him, her brown eyes wide, then nodded.
Thank God. “Very well. I shall make this as pleasant for you as possible. I want you to find your release, love, as you did the night of the ball.” Then he pulled on the rubber sheath, explaining, “This will prevent pregnancy.”
She watched in fascination. “That was very thoughtful of you, Charlie,” she said.
She closed her eyes and he caressed her back, calming her. His hand drifted from the smooth indentation just above her derriere, up to her shoulders and back, until she let out a sound of pure contentment. Then he caressed each smooth leg, from her ankle up to the tops of her thighs, over and over, moving slightly higher each time, until he noticed she was moving a bit restlessly.
“Turn over, Rose.”
She did, languidly, and he bent and kissed her mouth, deepening the kiss when she let out a sound of pure pleasure. He could listen to her sounds all day, each one slightly different depending upon what he was doing to her, where he was touching. As they kissed, he moved one finger slowly from her neck, across her clavicle, and then to the swell of her breast, ending at one turgid nipple, pink and hard and so tempting. He moved his finger across the tip, and she arched her back and let out a sound that went right to his cock. Breaking off the kiss, he looked down at her and smiled. “You are made for this, Rose. Your body sings to me. Would you like me to kiss you here?” he asked, lightly squeezing the nipple.
“Oh, yes.”
Charlie knew not all women felt intense pleasure when their nipples were caressed, but clearly Rose did. He kissed the top of one breast, then licked the pink tip, looking up at her to see her reaction. Their eyes met and the look she gave him was enough to make him lose control. When he took her nipple in his mouth and sucked lightly, she closed her eyes and arched her back, one hand going behind his head. He loved her breasts for long minutes before touching her between her legs, where she was hot and wet. And ready. His erection was nearly painful, but it was too soon to complete the deed. He wanted her to still be pulsing when he pushed inside her, hoping it would lessen any pain she felt.
And so he moved his hand against the hard little nub at the crest of the thighs, back and forth, until her hips began moving, until her breath came out in ragged pants, until he felt her convulse beneath him as she let out a cry of pure joy.
“I’m putting myself inside you, Rose,” he said, getting to his knees and pressing her legs apart. She was spent, looking up at him sleepily.
“All right, Charlie.”
For some reason that made him laugh, or perhaps it was that h
e hadn’t felt so purely happy in so long. He pressed his cock against her entrance, wishing he wasn’t wearing the sheath. He wanted to feel her heat, her wetness, that glorious sensation of a woman’s sex. Slowly he entered her, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth, both against the intense pleasure and the fear of hurting her. He was not a small man, and he knew he was larger than most.
“Relax, love,” he said, then pushed all the way. She stiffened and let out a small sound of pain, and he stilled.
“Is that it?” she asked, her voice small.
“No, love. No.” It could have been, he realized, as he waited for her to relax around him, for she was no longer a virgin. But he would be damned if he pulled out of her now, not when he was so very close to finding his own release. He began moving in and out, the sensation, even with the sheath, so incredibly arousing, he could hardly hold himself in check. “You feel so good, love. You’ve no idea. Are you all right?”
“Much better now, thank you.”
He chuckled and kissed her deeply, all the time thrusting, gaining rhythm, until his body could take no more and he found his release in one long, pulsing bit of heaven.
Rose lay there, eyes wide, as Charlie came back from that wonderful place people go when they find release. He was magnificent, she thought, and perhaps the kindest man she’d ever known. It was that thought that started the first tear, and then all her thoughts tumbled on top of one another—thoughts of her youth, of Charlie then and now, of years lost, of how truly wonderful physical love could be with the right man. Within minutes, she was sobbing and poor Charlie was holding her, helpless to stop her tears. She realized that the last time she’d cried like that was in the stable back home against Charlie’s shirt.
“I’m sorry, love, I’m sorry,” Charlie said over and over, touching her face gently, kissing her jaw, trying to soothe her even though Rose was quite certain he had no idea what hurt he was trying to ease.
“You don’t understand, Charlie. It was lovely.”
“Then why are you crying?”
She looked up at him, trying to put into words what she was trying to say. “Because it was lovely and I never thought it would be.”
He grinned down at her and something swelled in her heart. “I told you it could be wonderful with the right man.”
“Are you the right man?”
He gave her a long look, his eyes unreadable; then he smiled. “I am today.”
Rose lay beside Charlie, and decided she liked the feel of a naked man beside her. Maybe she liked this man beside her especially, she thought sleepily as she snuggled against him. He reached down and drew up the covers, enveloping them both in a warm, soft cocoon, and Rose closed her eyes. She hadn’t slept well the previous night and was terribly tired.
She’d thought just to rest her eyes for a moment, but when she opened them again it was clearly dusk, the muted light coming from her window telling her it was nearly dinnertime. Charlie lay on his back, one arm flung over his head, the other still around her; he was sound asleep. Feeling a bit mischievous and more than curious, Rose looked at his body, so strong and solid, and taking up a great deal of her bed. She had been too nervous to look at him earlier. His chest had a light coating of soft, dark blond hair that ended at his rib cage, but for a thin line that went directly down to his male part. Curious, she lifted her head a bit to get a better look. It was far different now, a droopy appendage with no real shape. She cautiously reached down and laid one index finger on him, smiling at the velvety softness. She moved her finger from the base to the tip, pulling back quickly when it moved.
“Fascinating,” she whispered, as it grew larger and shifted, almost as if it were a separate entity from the rest of him. She glanced at Charlie, and seeing that he was still asleep, she ventured another touch and was rewarded when it grew even larger. She very nearly giggled.
“Rose.”
Pulling her hand back quickly, Rose blushed from head to toe.
“You may continue if you like,” he said, his voice sounding rather strained. “In fact, please do.”
“Please do?”
“Yes.”
Rose tentatively placed her hand on his penis, and Charlie put his own hand over hers and squeezed. He grew immediately hard beneath her hand.
“It’s lovely, Charlie,” she said, making him laugh. “It is. Not two minutes ago, it was this little caterpillar and now it’s, well, just look at it.”
“That’s what happens when a woman touches it.” Rose frowned, thinking about all the other women who had likely touched Charlie before her. “But with you, all you need to do is be in the same room with me. It’s quite unmanning.”
“Is that true?” Rose asked, feeling slightly mollified.
“I swear. At the ball that night, I had to keep thinking about my locomotive design as a distraction.”
She laughed, feeling quite sophisticated, lying naked in her bed with a man. Touching his gooser—that’s what her brothers used to call it. She squeezed and he breathed in sharply and swelled beneath her hand.
“If you keep doing that, love, I’m afraid I’ll either have to leave or go back on my word that we’d only do it once.”
Rose looked at him, then ducked her head into the crook of his arm, her hand still on his erection. “I think we could do it again, if you like.”
Charlie uttered a curse. “I don’t have another sheath, Rose.”
“All right.” But she still held him, still looked down the flat plane of his stomach at her hand holding him, fascinated by the small bead of moisture that formed at the very tip. “You’re leaking.” She moved her thumb, touching him there lightly, just in that spot where the moisture appeared, and he hissed in another breath.
“Are you trying to torture me?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said, giggling and kissing his jaw.
“My lady, you can only push a man so far,” he said, joining her laughter. “I can pull out. That should be safe enough.”
Rose got up and leaned on one elbow to look down at him. “What do you mean?”
“I’ll pull out before I come, so it won’t go inside you, and you won’t get pregnant. That would work,” he said. Then he pulled her down for a kiss, thrusting his tongue into her mouth, making his hips rise against her hand. He grabbed one of her legs and pulled it over him so that she lay on top, her hand trapped between their bodies. He kneaded her bum and she let go of him to wrap her hands around his neck, joining in the rhythm he was creating, his arousal pressing between her legs and giving her the most delicious sensation.
“You’re not too sore, are you, Rose? We can stop. It will kill me, but we can stop,” he said, lifting his hips in a way that caused a shot of raw desire that made her cry out.
“I’m quite fine,” she said, and bent her head to kiss him some more. She could kiss him for hours, lying like this, feeling his hard body beneath hers, the soft hair of his chest, his erection pressing between her legs.
“Sit up, then, love, and put me inside you.” Rose lifted her head, and the expression on her face must have amused him quite a lot, for he burst out laughing. “It’s lovely,” he said, lifting one wicked brow, and Rose had a feeling it would be lovely indeed.
Feeling awkward and unsure, Rose lifted herself and took his erection in her hand.
“Slowly, Rose, there.” He was breathing heavily. “Just there.” He was at her entrance and he pushed her down until he was fully inside, his face taut, his body rigid. He looked up at her, his blue eyes filled with raw desire. Then he moved one hand to where they were joined and touched her at the apex of her legs, on that spot he seemed to know so well, and the feeling that shot through her was unimaginably exquisite. Rose could feel herself getting lost in the sensation again, feeling the urge to move.
“Rise up, love. Gently, and settle back.”
She did, her eyes widening at the sensation of him inside her and his thumb moving against her nub. “This is quite lovely,” she said, moving up and
down again, concentrating on all the sensations the movement created. Charlie helped guide her with his left hand as he caressed her with his right, setting a rhythm that was so carnal, Rose cried out from the pure pleasure of it. She was close to finding her release, and Charlie must have sensed as much, clever devil, for he increased the rhythm of his thumb, and she matched his movements with her entire body, lost in a haze of sensations that made it impossible to think. And then, in one wonderful flood, she was lost, moving uncontrollably as her body was wracked with wave after wave. She was hardly aware of the sounds she was making, the way she screamed when her release came.
In one swift movement, while she was still coming down from that place of perfection, Charlie rolled them over, still joined, and thrust again and again, his head pressing against the pillow, until he pulled away and let out a sound of pure male satisfaction.
The two lay side by side, spent and happy, both with smiles on their lips.
“By God, Rose, if you say we cannot do that again, I shall throttle you,” Charlie said on a laugh.
“It would hardly be proper,” Rose said, just to tease him. He growled, slinging one arm over her as if it took all the energy he had just to do that.
After a time, Charlie rolled over to his back and pulled Rose against his side “I have a horse farm, you know,” he said. “Just outside the city. I wonder if you would like to see it.”
“I should like that. I miss being around horses. I did wonder if you missed it, too.”
“It was the first thing I bought when I had enough money. It’s not a big farm, but I have six fine mares, two geldings, and a stallion that thinks he’s king of everything. His name is Abbadon.”
“For the devil? Is he that difficult?”
Charlie chuckled. “No, he’s more angel than devil. But he very nearly died when he was born and it took the very devil to make him live, so that’s what I called him. I have an excellent manager who cares for the property and the horses, but I wish I had more time to spend there. I’d planned to spend a month on the farm in the summer, but that hasn’t happened. So you’ll go?”