He wrapped her in his embrace, pulling her tightly against him. Already she could feel the hardness of his manhood through his robe. The physical evidence confirmed that he wanted her despite his cautiousness and aroused her even more.
He eased his hold and released a shuddering breath. “I can hardly believe you’re mine,” he whispered as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and then trailed a finger along her cheek.
“Nor can I.” She cupped her hand on his jaw, the slight roughness of his whiskers incredibly erotic. “Or that you’re mine.”
His grin had her grinning in return. “Waiting seemed to take forever yet went by in the blink of an eye.”
“I felt exactly the same.” She breathed in his scent as she rested her head against his shoulder, reveling in the way he made her feel, cherished and loved. “I never realized happiness like this was possible.” She lifted her head to look into his eyes. “You have helped me see that it is.”
“Harriet.” He kissed her again, the restraint she’d sensed in him earlier loosening its hold.
With this kiss, he seemed intent on devouring her. And it felt glorious. The feeling of being desired pushed away the doubt that lingered and hushed the voice that said love wasn’t possible given her scars, both inside and out.
She returned his embrace, but as the kiss continued, she realized it wasn’t enough. She wanted more of him, to explore what she’d only been able to admire until now.
As if the thought granted her permission, she ran her hands to roam over his broad shoulders and along his neck. She found her way beneath his robe to his warm, firm flesh.
His muffled moan suggested she was taking the right path, so she continued, discovering a boldness of which she hadn’t realized she was capable.
But this was Joseph, her husband, and he loved her. The headiness of that knowledge shed another layer of the worry she’d lived with for over two years.
He broke the kiss only to press his lips along her jaw and down her neck. “Harriet,” he whispered. “I love you with all that I am.”
His words felt like a vow. Somehow, they freed her, lifting the last of the chains that had bound her. She released him to shed the wrapper and allow him to see more of her.
The wave of vulnerability that swept over her shocked her with its strength. Though he’d told her numerous times that her scars didn’t matter, she waited for his reaction, hoping the sight of them didn’t change his desire.
As if realizing what the gesture meant, he ran a gentle finger over the scars from her collarbone to the plunging neckline that revealed the swell of her breast. “You’re beautiful.” He met her gaze for a long moment. Then he bent and pressed a trail of kisses from her neck down to her breast.
She blinked back tears at his sweet gesture. For once, her scars didn’t feel ugly but simply part of who she was.
Passion surged within her, and she held tight to his shoulders, her knees weakening at his touch.
“Perfect,” he murmured then moved aside the fabric covering her breast. He took her taut nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around it until need speared straight to her center.
Liquid heat filled her, and her self-consciousness fell away. She pushed back his robe to reveal his broad shoulders and muscled chest, the dark hair that covered it beckoning her to explore. She ran her fingers over his chest and discovered his male nipples as well, loving the way he shifted into her touch.
The feel of Joseph’s warm hand on her bare thigh should’ve shocked her, but it only felt right.
Eager to keep pace, she untied his robe, her trembling fingers fumbling with the knot until at last she managed it and eased the sides apart. She took in his muscular form, so very masculine. “Perfect,” she said, repeating what he’d said to her.
He chuckled. “Hardly but I’m pleased you think so.”
His quiet words made her smile as she trailed her fingers over his chest, the coarse dark hair that covered it beckoning. He sighed and shifted again, suggesting he enjoyed her touch. They had that in common for she enjoyed his as well.
Her exploration continued to the flat plane of his abdomen where the hair thinned into a narrow trail that led her fingers lower and lower still.
He gasped as she took hold of his length. The stiff rod of his manhood wasn’t what she’d expected. Then again, she would’ve been hard-pressed to say what she thought to see or feel. With one finger, she traced its length, the smoothness seeming at odds with the hardness. The combination fascinated her. She repeated the process, this time with two fingers, then again with her hand.
“Harriet.” With a muffled groan, he grabbed her wrist to halt her exploration. “Your touch will end this before it’s truly begun.”
Before she could question what that meant, he pulled her to him, the warmth of his body heating hers. She shifted against him and reveled in their differences as his lips took hers once again.
His hand on her bare bottom pressed her even closer to him. When he trailed a finger along the slit of her buttocks, she was the one who moaned as her very center ached with need.
Those fingers gently squeezed her hip, then continued to the front of her to brush against the curls where her thighs met.
His touch had her drawing in a deep breath. She reached up to hold his shoulders, needing support when it felt like her knees might fail her. His fingers found the slick folds between her legs, and she was thankful to have something to hold on to.