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Did he have any idea how much those words meant to her? How much they moved her and almost made all her nightmares and fears dissolve? “I love you, too,” she said through her tears. “Have since the first time I saw you. You were the only gentleman I saw at the ball that first night of my Season. Nobody else mattered now or then.”
“Please let me make love to you? I need you.”
He no longer paced the room but stood right in front of her. Never had she seen him look as though his life depended on her answer. So moved was she, it took several moments to find her voice. “You have no idea what those words mean to me.” But she did. The love he had for her was written all over his face, in the depths of his eyes and in the cadence of his voice.
Was it enough to slay her demons? Only one way to find out. She took his hand and pulled him toward the four poster bed looming large in the middle of the room. Once there, she faulted and waited for Spencer to take the lead. Thankfully, he did. Even after all these years he still understood her.
Turning her around, he began undoing the pearl buttons on the back of her dress. The brush of his fingers on her bare skin as he undid one button after another had heat curling low in her belly. As more buttons became undone the heat intensified. Her dress fell silently to the floor. Moments later, her chemise and then her pantaloons joined the satin heap pooling at her feet and she shivered.
“You are so beautiful,” Spencer said as he kissed her neck and shoulder. “It was worth twelve years.” Afraid to turn around and have him see her nakedness from the front, her feet stayed frozen to the thick Aubusson rug.
“I’ll just divest myself of some clothing as well.” With her eyes closed, she could hear the crinkling of him removing his coat, then waistcoat. The rustling as he untied his cravat and the sound of his shirt unbuttoning and being pulled over his head. She wanted so badly to see and feel his naked skin against hers.
“I believe I will sit on the edge of the bed and pull off my boots.” Once again, she closed her eyes and heard, first one boot then the other hit the rug with a soft thud. More clothing noise as he no doubt unbuttoned the front placket of his breeches. For what seemed like an eternity, she waited for something to snap her eyes open. That something came in the clearing of Spencer’s throat.
“Come here, my dear.” Inhaling and exhaling for courage, she turned around and found the bed covers pulled down and Spencer’s naked and aroused, body facing her.
So that’s what a man looked like beneath his clothing. Oh, she could well imagine every man did not possess Spencer’s hard lines, bulging muscles, and narrow waist. But they all did have that appendage protruding between their thighs. Do not think about that yet. Light brown hair dusted his chest. A darker line dipped low and surrounded his prominent erection. She swallowed the panic seeing it hard, large and looming toward her. Stop looking at it. Listening to her own advice, she raised her eyes and concentrated on the muscles rippling on his chest and arms and the grin on his smug face at her being caught looking at him.
“Come.” He held out his hand and his face softened. “Do not be afraid of me. I will never hurt you.”
Did he know? Surely not. He referred to her maidenhead and thinking it would cause her pain. She hesitated for a moment then climbed on the bed. Her hands were reaching for the coverlet at the same time Spencer pushed it aside and covered her body with his hard one.
His head dipped down, pressing his lips to hers in a kiss that conveyed how much he cherished her. She hoped she didn’t disappoint him with her inexperience as he continued kissing her with the mind tingling kiss. Tingling that not only affected her head but other places on her body which seemed overly sensitized, warm, and moist.
Breaking the kiss, he whispered in her ear, “You have no idea how much I have dreamed about this moment. Almost every night for twelve long years.”
Did she dare admit the truth to him? That she had as well. Although in her dreams they were always clothed. Which if they were making love, was odd. Even if her experience told her people could be nearly fully clothed and still perform the sex act. “Me too.”
His groan upon hearing her reply was music to her ears. Then his mouth descended upon hers again and all thought vacated her mind.
After devouring her, drinking from her mouth, leaving her desperate for air and the room spinning around her, he broke the kiss. Her breathing was halted mid-inhale as his soft lips placed light, fairy wing kisses down her neck, across her collarbone and down to her breasts which were full and heavy. An odd, but wonderful sensation. When his hot tongue flicked across her nipple she arched up, her hands clung to his shoulders. Never had she experienced anything remotely resembling this. This need to pull him close and beg for something her body craved but her mind didn’t comprehend.
“Do you like that?” He tongued her other nipple and she had the same reaction. Only this time she wanted to cross her legs at the sensations happening down there. At the wetness between her thighs.
Just as she was sinking more deeply into the bed and enjoying the attention he bestowed upon her breasts, he removed his mouth and her brain screamed, “No, stay.” Then she gasped, “Oh my,” as his mouth rained kisses down her stomach then laved her belly button with his tongue. Once again she had trouble keeping up as he nudged her thighs apart and he placed his mouth there. “Ohhhh,” she moaned as her body responded by itself. Her hips rose off the bed seeking his mouth. Both hands fisted in his hair, non-too-gently, and she held on. Blissful, the sensations were so blissful until her mind intruded. Who is this wanton woman? Is this what married couples do?
“Stop thinking,” he mumbled, breathlessly against her inner thigh. “I can hear the gears in your mind clicking. Feel. Just feel and let me love you with my mouth. Love you as you deserve to be loved for all time.”
How could she resist when all she really wanted to do was open her legs wider, giving him better access to her womanhood. So she shut her mind down, spread her legs, closed her eyes, and let herself fall into the unknown. She trusted her husband. He loved her. He would never hurt her. Never make her do anything she didn’t want to.
His tongue did sinful things to her, his fingers touched and caressed her everywhere, making her body heavy.
“Oh God,” she breathed and squeezed her knees against his head. “I can’t...”
“Let yourself go.”
And somehow she did. A tightness coiled down low in her belly and traveled lower and lower still until her body trembled and the room exploded around her. All she recognized was heavy breathing coming from both of them. His body covered hers and he whispered, “Thank you,” into her ear.
As his hard erection pushed against her womanhood, seeking entrance, everything slammed back into focus. Over-focused and over-sensitized and not in a good way. She tried to stop it from happening, she really did. But she no longer possessed her body or mind. She watched from above, no longer in control.
She slammed her eyes shut and wished to stay in the present with Spencer, the man she loved. But when she opened them again it wasn’t her handsome husband she saw above her, it was him. Her aunt’s husband, his face distorted and scrunched up as he grunted and groaned while he invaded her body, turning him into a monster.
“Stop,” she screamed, only it didn’t sound like her voice. Her hands came up and she shoved against the hard, wall of a chest. Her arms and legs began flailing about connecting with anything she could. But it was never enough, would never be enough to keep her safe. To keep the monster from violating her body against her will. To take the only thing she possessed that was truly hers to give...her innocence.
“What are you doing?” he bellowed. “Stop. It’s me, Spencer. Look at my eyes, look at my face and tell me who Mr. Baker is?”
