What had she been imagining if his body wasmorewhole than she’d thought? But then her gaze dropped very deliberately to his cock, which was already half hard at her proximity, and that damn nightgown. She had—
She had assumed the fire had taken that too?
He almost choked at the realization. Just like that, she had rendered him unmanned. Her conclusion made sense, given his assurances about intimacy—but he had never assumed she would think him incapable, merely undesirable.
What a damned mess.
“When we kissed, you told me that I should let you know when I want you to kiss me.” She gave a decisive nod, as though coming to a decision. “I was afraid, but I’m not any longer. So will you, Hugh? Kiss me?”
They were in his bedchambers. If they kissed now, he would not have the willpower to leave it there, not with him naked and her perfectly packaged to make his mouth water.
He caught her wrist, removing her hand from his chest and kissing her fingers. “Chris,” he told her. “If I kiss you now, I will not want to stop. Do you know what that means?”
The smile died in her eyes, replaced by utter seriousness as she said, “I have been educated in many things, but this is not one. Until now, I’ve had no interest in learning. But with you, I would very much like to know what happens.”
“You want this?”
“I do.”
There was nothing more for him to do except pull her close and crush her mouth to his.
Christiana gave himeverything she had with her kiss. He caught her face with his hands, bringing her to rest against his damp body, and she tilted her face to his and let him kiss her deeply. With every brush of his lips, every slide of his tongue, she felt herself sink further and further into him. Her nipples felt sensitive, and there was that nervous, shaking, anticipatoryfeeling in her stomach. A spark that only ever came from touching him.
But this was not curiosity alone. Yes, she wanted to know what it would be like to lie with him, but she wanted so much more than a mere scientific experiment.
She wantedpleasure.
His robe fell open at the front, exposing his chest, and she ran her fingers along his bare skin, finding first the softness on his left side, then moving to his right, keeping her touch gentle, lest she hurt him. The texture here felt different, unexpected ridges and roughness where his unblemished skin had been smooth. No hair grew here, but she didn’t mind. Instead, as he drew a hand through her hair, tugging on it just lightly enough to make her stomach clench and thatnothingnesshollow feeling inside her grow, she continued to explore.
There was a scar on his right side. She found it with her questing fingers and traced the length of it. He shuddered against her, hissing into her mouth.
“Does that hurt?” Her voice didn’t sound like hers—it was breathy, soft.
“No.”
“Then may I continue?”
He placed a finger against her jaw, tipping her head back so he could look at her, his eyes liquid brown. “Do you wish to?”
“More than anything.”
He hissed another breath but made no objection as she traced his burned skin, learning where it began and ended. His entire right side was affected, but although it looked painful, the only horror she felt from looking at it was sorrow that he had gone through such a thing.
With her eyes on the progress of her hands, she gently pushed at his robe, sliding it back over his shoulders. It caughtagainst his damp skin, and she separated the fabric, moving it away so she could get a better look at him.
All of him.
As he held very still, she traced her palm down his stomach. The fire had licked across to his left-hand side here, the skin marred, but underneath both sides were the same muscles. They flexed, turning into ridges at the progress of her hand.
And below, where two lines of muscle pointed in a diagonal, in an arrow, was his phallus.
She had seen medical diagrams in books. She had also read a few veryinterestingbooks her father had not known she had discovered. Her education in that regard was reasonably thorough; she knew that blood pumped into the phallus, making it hard to the touch. That from stimulation, it would produce seed—and that seed, when inserted into a woman, was what created children.
All this, she knew, and she recited the facts in her head when she finally reached the engorged member. The head appeared almost purple, a pearly bead of moisture on its tip. After regarding it for a moment, unwilling to admit the depth of her fascination, and equally unwilling to look away, she extended a finger and brushed the liquid away. Curious, she brought the finger to her mouth.
Hugh groaned, and his shaft bobbed. A new bead replaced the old as a salty, undeniably male flavor exploded on her tongue.
How very interesting.