She swallowed. “N-no.”
He smiled. “And what did you think of it?”
Think? She couldn’t think at all.
His smile widened into a grin. “That was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen. I feel quite accomplished, you know.”
He was laughing. She could hear the delight in his words, but she didn’t understand his meaning. Accomplished?
His expression gentled, and he lifted his hand to stroke her cheek. “You’re beautiful, you know. Every time I see you, it seems that I find something more remarkable about you.”
She grabbed hold of her reason and formed a word. “What?” Sometime later, she managed to pull herself together enough to straighten in her chair. She meant to pull her knees together, but he was pressed against them, keeping them wide. It was only the fabric that kept him distant from her full body.
And then, while she sat there desperately trying to gather her wits, he straightened up. She still fought to control even the smallest aspect of her body while he slipped an arm underneath her legs and the other behind her back. Then he lifted her out of her chair.
She gasped in surprise, managing to wrap an arm around his broad shoulders as he maneuvered them to her bed. Then he set her down, his touch gentle, even as his eyes sparked with delight.
“Lord,” he murmured, “the things I could show you.”
She ought to object. She had enough awareness to know that. But the words didn’t form. She didn’t have the wherewithal to do more than grip his sleeve as he drew away, his expression regretful.
“This wasn’t well done of me,” he said with a sigh. “I should have left that to your husband, lucky bastard.” Then he flashed his mischievous grin. “But I can’t regret it. God, the way you looked. Surprised. Delighted. I haven’t the words, Mellie, but I was awed.”
She didn’t understand what he was saying. She was coming to grips with the basics as her logical brain pulled the facts together. She had come. That had been an orgasm. Contractions and pleasure—she understood now. Women could take delight in their bodies. That was good to know.
But he was leaving her, and so she clutched his hand, trying to hold him still. She needed to comprehend what had happened. And she wanted to process the information while he explained. And provided more examples.
“Mellie—”
“Not yet,” she managed. “Don’t leave yet.”
He paused. “You tempt me too much. Do you understand? I’m barely holding onto my honor as it is.”
She did understand, and yet… “This is so new. I want to…”
“Explore more?” he asked.
She nodded. “Oh yes.”
He chuckled, the sound tight for all that it was filled with good humor. “Then I must leave. Mellie, I have had too much brandy.” And yet, he lingered and still held her hand. His thumb stroked her skin, and her nipple tightened in memory.
She watched what he did, and she felt her belly tighten again. She licked her lips and heard him groan.
“Mellie—”
“Does that happen every time?”
“With me it does,” he answered, pride in his tone.
“No wonder the ladies flock to you.”
He blinked. “What?”
“I read about you in the society papers. I know you are a favorite. Now I know why.”
She tugged on his hand, and he obliged her by settling on the edge of the bed. She felt his heat against her thigh and idly brushed her fingers through the hair on his forearm. He had such lovely arms. Corded with strength, but still soft enough to stroke.
“The papers have me bedding every female in England. I assure you, that is far from the truth.”