“Experimentation.” Her breath gushed from her as he teased her entrance, and she half-closed her eyes. “It didn’t feel at all like…”
“You weren’t aroused then.” He kissed the bony curve of her shoulder and pushed the tip of a single finger inside. By God, she was tight.
“Does this happen to everyone?”
“If they are eager, then yes.” He pushed a little deeper, and her hips bucked, legs widening to accommodate him. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
Those pretty eyelashes of hers fluttered again, but when she spoke, it was with remarkable presence of mind. “If this is thebody’s natural process in preparation for penetration, then why would I be ashamed?”
He chuckled. “You are like no other lady I’ve ever met.”
“My mother thought that was the problem.” She reached across her body, gripping his good arm, her fingers digging into the muscle of his bicep. “I want…” Her brow furrowed with what might have been irritation. “Do you know what it is I want?”
“I know.” Tenderness whispering in his heart, breaking past the last of the barriers he had erected around it to keep it safe, he kissed her forehead. “Tell me if you like the things I do, love. Trust me.”
A small, beautiful smile crossed her face. “I do. I do trust you, Hugh.”
If there had ever been any doubt about whether he loved her, she eradicated it with those simple words, and he was utterly lost.
Christiana had neverbeen struck by lightning, but she imagined it felt somewhat like this. Her every nerve was buzzing with energy, and with Hugh’s hands on her, she had never felt so aware, soalivein her own body. As though he had taken her and made her anew. She had been reborn under the weight of his gaze and in the cradle of his arms; now he molded her into an entirely new creation.
So this was intimacy.
His finger pushed inside her, so much deeper than she could ever have imagined, a slick slide that made her stomach clench and heat rush through her. He lay beside her, kissing every part of her he could reach as his leg held hers open and his hand delved between her legs with practiced movements. She didn’t know if she wanted to watch it—the movement of his hand inand out, the gleam of moisture on his index finger when it caught the candlelight, the erotic play of his darker skin against her paler aspect. His gloves had ensured his skin did not catch much sun, but he was naturally of a more sallow complexion. The contrast made her head spin.
Pleasure wound its way around her, and she clung to him. In this new world, he was her anchor. He would lead her into heaven and back out. After coming back from hell, he was the perfect person to do so.
“Hugh,” she gasped as he hit the perfect place inside her. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she fought to keep hold of her thought. “Teach me how I might pleasure you.”
“Me?”
“Please. I want to—” Truth be told, she didn’t know what she wanted, save to do to him what he did to her. And to learn. This was a different kind of learning than the kind she had encountered in books, but it didn’t make the information gained from it any less valuable. If anything, it would be far better applied in her everyday life. If she knew how to please him, she could put that into practice as often as he would let her.
He grunted, then took her hand and brought it to his shaft. Out of instinct, she wrapped her fingers around it, and he encased her fingers with his, guiding them up and down. “You may grip a little more,” he instructed her in a tight voice, his hand pausing a little between her legs. “There. Just like that. Just—” His words cut off entirely.
She followed his instructions the best she could, marveling at the feel of him under her palm. The way the skin moved so easily, and how much such a simple, small movement made his jaw clench and his eyes half close. His breath came faster, and she experimented, moving faster and slower, reading the way he grunted or exhaled. More moisture appeared, and she smeared it across the bulbous head. Objectively, she supposed there wasnothing so very aesthetically pleasing about a phallus, yet the sight of it made her feel even hotter inside.
Hugh shifted so he was kneeling by her side, giving her better access. Just as she was about to readjust her grip, he inserted another finger, and the spike of pleasure was so intense, it made her breath catch. The coiling feeling in her lower stomach tightened, drawing heat from all over. Her breath came faster, and her body urged her forward.
More, more.
He kissed her, lips urgent, and she had the impression he was attempting to say things with his mouth he couldn’t yet say with his words.
There were more things she wished she could say, too. Things likeYou are important to meandI will never forget this moment. It would be seared into her memory as surely as every great event of her life. More so than her marriage; that had been an event, in a long list of them, that she had done for the sake of survival.
This was a joy. Something she chose because she wanted it.
There had been so few moments like those in her life.
Hugh was hers. Her choice. His hand between her legs, his mouth on hers, his phallus in her hands.
With a groan, he pulled back, free of her grasp. “No more,” he said, his face tight with concentration. “Or I risk spilling on you.”
She frowned, dizzy with pleasure, again with the sensation that her body was not her own—it was something better, brighter. “And you don’t want that?”
“Not yet.” When he next kissed her, his mouth was urgent, demanding. “I want all of you, Chris. I told you. Everything.”
Ah, yes. That was what she had forgotten in this flurry of new sensation. There was still more. This was merely preparing her body.