“Algernon?”
Beatrice’s voice, tainted with worry, brought him out of the damning thought, and he dragged his eyes from beautiful figure up to her face. In the moonlight, he could see the insecurity in her eyes and arms start to draw toward her chest, and he hated it.
“Is something wrong? Do I not look?—”
“No,” Algernon rasped, refusing to even let her finish the thought.
He reached down, his touch gentle as he ran his palm over her neck, over the sweet mountains of her breasts and the peaks of her taut pink nipples, earning him a shuddering breath from Beatrice’s lips. He did not stop though, he let himself revel in his exploration, letting his hand caress over her small, tapered waist, to her hips, and down her leg again.
“Do not ever question your beauty again,” he commanded, going down on his elbows so that his body could barely brush against hers.
Beatrice’s brow tensed, but she pressed her lips together and nodded silently.
He felt her tremble beneath him, as if she needed more of his heat despite the warm summer air surrounding them. He obliged, letting himself sink fully down atop her bare body, and it earned him another delicious moan. She leaned her head up to him, and without thought, he gave her the kiss she wanted. Softly. Quickly. Then he pulled back.
“I have decided what our next lesson will be,” he told her.
The look Beatrice gave him was curious. Innocent. Expectant.
“Oh?” she whispered, reaching up to caress his hair.
He trembled at her soft touch and could not help but turn his head and kiss her palm.
“Yes,” he whispered, already feeling his manhood grow harder at the unsaid thought. “I am going to teach you how to pleasure yourself.”
“Algernon, I cannot do that,” Beatrice whispered, her eyes wide with alarm. She shook her head, as if doing so would add emphasis to her insistence.
“Yes, you can,” he answered calmly, drawing her fingers to his mouth.
Beatrice’s breath hitched as he slowly drew one finger at time into his mouth, letting his tongue swirl and coat each one with his saliva.
It was not just that she could learn. It was that sheneededto. Algernon had a realization earlier when Henry had broken his promise to Beatrice and left her in his care. His little brother might want to marry her, but as far as pleasure, as far as any intimacy in their marriage, Algernon came to the grim realization that no matter what Beatrice would offer, she was simply not what his tastes ran to.
Beatrice’s bed, Algernon predicted, would lonely enough, but he did not want her surrounded by such loneliness with no means to ease the heat he knew ebbed within her. So, he would teach her to how pleasure herself—and selfishly by doing so, he would imprint such an image in her mind for her to use when she felt the need to give into such an inclination.
“Algernon, I am not sure,” she began to say.
“Start here,” Algernon explained, cutting her off.
He dropped his lips to her nipples, kissing the taut peaks one at a time before guiding her wet fingertips to the left one. Beatrice’s breath hitched as she drew the tips of her fingers over her own nipple, but she did not fight him.
“Be gentle with yourself at first,” he coaxed, his eyes traveling from her breasts to her face every few seconds. “Just like that.”
He helped her brush her fingertips over the very peak of her nipple quickly, and he was rewarded with a deep tremble and another shuddering breath.
“Let your body tell you what it wants,” he coaxed then drew her right breast into his mouth.
Beatrice moaned deeply as he did so, and he took the moment to savor the sweet taste of her breast, the perfect feel of it in his mouth, before he slowly drew away.
He shifted further down her body, guiding her hand to the nipple he’d just teased and made wet as his kisses caressed over her ribcage and waist.
“Keep doing that,” he softly commanded, letting go of her hand.
He did not pause his kisses to look up and see if she was obeying him. He could tell just by the way her body was beginning to writhe beneath him that she was. His lips traveled over her stomach then, taking the time to sweep his tongue over every bare inch his lips made contact with until his shoulders and head were settled between her parted thighs. His mouth immediately began to water as he caught her sweet, feminine scent, and he could not help but bury his head between her legs and inhale deeply.
Beatrice shuddered at his intense attention, and it urged him to continue. He drew his tongue out, his eyes rolling with pleasure as he found her folds already slick with warm dew and her bud just above them taut and pulsing.
Keeping his head between her legs, he reached up for her hand, pleased to find her still teasing her breasts, and brought it between her legs. He lapped his tongue slowly over her taut bud of nerves, making her cry out, and then he gently brought her fingertips to the place.