Tempting a Proper Lady (17 page)

“So you have been too long without bedding a woman?” she asked.

He gave a short laugh. “Sweetheart, I was nearly two years alone on an island.”

“I would have thought that after you were rescued—”

“No. I've never had a taste for whores, and I considered myself betrothed. I thought I would wait.”

“That is unusual for a man, is it not?”

“Not for me. I like to feel something for my partner, even if it's just respect. Frankly no woman has really tempted me since I came back, until you.”

The breath left her lungs. “Oh.”

“Have I offended you? That wasn't my intention.”

“No, no. It's just that…well, to be the first woman you have…well, two years…” She bit her lip. “I have never been very good at intimacy. What if I disappoint you?”

He chuckled. “You won't.”

“You do not know that.”

“Actually I do.” He paused. “After our encounter at the inn, I was incredibly aroused. Hard as a rock.”

Her mouth fell open at his candor. “What…How does a man…Oh, I do not even know what I am asking.”

“A man can take care of these things. But it's not the same thing as having a woman.”

“I see.” She didn't, but she figured he would explain at some point.

“You get my blood hot, Priscilla, with that combination of siren's body and angel's face. If you're really not hungry, I'd like to take you to the bedchamber and start teaching you what you came here to learn.”

“Now?”

“Right now,”

“But John will not be back for hours. What will we do afterwards?”

A slow grin spread across his face that hinted at a secret she did not share. “It's going to take more than one lesson.”

“More than one time?”

“More than one time, more than one afternoon.”

“Heavens!”

“I'm leaving it in your hands, Priscilla. We can eat first if you want to wait, or you can come with me now to the bedchamber.”

She eyed her wineglass, the loaf of bread, the savory stew simmering on the hearth. “You had best take the stew off the fire.”

“Done.” He swung the arm that held the stew pot so the food no longer hung over the flames.

Cilla stood and smoothed her skirts. She could hardly believe she was doing this, but she wanted to know. She wanted to see and hear and taste and feel everything she had missed over the years of her marriage. She held out her hand to him. “You will need to show me what to do.”

He took her hand and led her away from the table toward the tiny hallway at the rear of the cottage. “I will. Have no fear.”

“I do not want to disappoint you.” She stopped so he would look at her. “If I am not pleasing you, you must tell me at once.”

“Stop worrying.” He cupped her face in his palm and pressed a kiss to her mouth.

Her body remembered him. Heat flooded her limbs as he nibbled at her, tangling his tongue with hers. Her knees softened into pudding, and she tightened her grip around their entwined fingers. He gave a low groan, dropped her hand, and deepened the kiss, dragging her full against him as he devoured her mouth.

Sweet God in heaven! Her body exploded with sensation, and she could only cling to him as he worked his magic on her. One of his hands clenched in her skirts and the other gripped her back, fingers clenching and unclenching. He fell backward against the wall of the hallway, taking her with him, and ripped his mouth from hers, leaning his head back as he sucked in great gulps of air.

“We need to slow down,” he said in between harsh breaths. “I'm too hungry and you're too innocent. We need to take this more slowly.”

Her entire body vibrated like a plucked harp string. She stared up at him, distracted by the sun-darkened flesh of his throat. When had she ever seen a man's throat so exposed before? It was because he wasn't wearing a neck cloth, that was it. He was half naked. That expanse of male flesh beckoned her, and she leaned up to touch her tongue to it.

“Christ in heaven.” He grabbed her by the shoul
ders and moved her away, though he did not let her go. “I thought you said you were inexperienced.”

“I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me.”

“So you didn't mean to…God help us both.” He closed his eyes. “We may just burn each other up once I finally get you naked.”

“Get
me
naked?” She had no idea where this strange playfulness came from, but it seemed right. Felt right. “What about you?”

He opened his eyes. There was a gleam there that made her nervous and excited all at once. “Saucy, aren't you?”

She should back down, not play with a fire she didn't know how to handle. But…“Perhaps.”

He laughed, full and hearty. “Oh, sweetheart, this is going to be fun. Hurry.” He grabbed her hand and sprinted the last few feet of the hallway, dragging her behind him into the bedchamber.

A large bed dominated the room. A looking glass stood in the corner to her left, and a simple bureau with a washbasin and pitcher caught her eye on the right side of the bed. She halted in the doorway, a glimmer of uncertainty piercing her arousal. But as usual, he seemed to know what was wrong even if she didn't.

“Honesty, right, Priscilla?”

She tore her gaze from the bed to look at him. “Yes.”

“You are certain you want to do this?”

She hesitated only a beat. “Yes.”

“Do you trust me to guide you?”

“Yes.” No hesitation there.

“All right. The first thing we need to do is to start getting you out of those clothes.”

“Just me?” She laid a hand over her bosom as if to prevent him from ripping the garments from her.

He grinned. “Your clothes take a lot longer, sweetheart. I promise, I won't rush you or do anything you don't like.”

“All right.”

“Turn around. I'll play lady's maid.”

She slowly turned around and immediately felt him plucking at the long line of buttons down her back. She kept her arms crossed in front of her, uncertain what she should be doing. Then his lips brushed the back of her neck. Her eyes slid closed and a low moan escaped her lips as he continued to trail kisses down her spine with each button he unfastened. Her arms uncrossed to hang limply at her sides.

“Your skin looks like fresh cream.” The top of her dress loosened, and she allowed him to tug it down her arms and off, leaving the top hanging at her waist. “Look at how beautiful you are.”

She opened her eyes and realized she was facing the mirror in the corner. Her dress bunched at her hips, held suspended by her petticoat. Her shoulders, her arms, and a good part of her bosom were revealed by the simple white chemise and corset that she wore beneath her clothing. He loomed behind her—so much taller, so much bigger. He reached around and cupped her breast as she watched, his
large, sun-browned hand nearly encompassing the soft globe.

“Do you see what I see? Tempting, like a delicious cake in the bakery window.” He bent and kissed the side of her neck, gently fondling her breast through the incredibly thin cotton. “I see you like this, and I want to kiss you everywhere. I want to see more, touch all of you.”

“Yes.” Was that her reflection, that sultry-looking woman with her eyes half closed and a blush on her cheeks?

He used one finger to tug one edge of her chemise down her arm. His expression fascinated her, like a man intent on a very important mission. He stopped just before baring her completely and traced his finger along the tops of her breasts. “So soft. I want to take my time. Or at least as much time as I can stand.”

“If it is painful for you, we can—”

“No, not painful,” he interrupted. “Not yet.” He met her gaze in the mirror. “I want you ready for me, Priscilla. So ready that when I slide inside you, it will be maddening for both of us.”

She clasped her hand over his. “I want to please you. Please tell me what to do.”

“Bare yourself for me.” He removed his hand from her breast. “I want to watch you uncover your beauty for me.”

She tried to hold his gaze in the mirror, but when she reached for the top of her chemise, she couldn't help but drop her eyes in modesty. Without unfastening her corset, she tugged the front of the chemise
down as much as she could so her breasts were completely exposed to him.

“That is true beauty.” He cupped both of her breasts in his hands, rubbing the nipples with his thumbs. “Look at yourself, Priscilla. You are so beautiful.”

She glanced at the mirror. The intensity in the way he looked at her made her entire body come to attention. Her skin felt that much more sensitive. The scent of him—somewhere between soap and outdoors—made her heady. The sight of his dark hand on her pale flesh excited her more than she had ever dreamed. Wet heat bloomed between her legs.

“This is what it should be like, always,” he murmured, nibbling along her shoulder as he continued to gently fondle her breasts. “This hunger growing inside you. Do you feel it? Does your mouth water for the taste of my kiss?”

“Yes.” His words seduced as much as his hands.

“Do you want my mouth here?” He pinched her nipples. The unique pleasure-pain had her gasping.

“Yes. Please.”

“And what about here?” He slid one hand down her waist, under the dangling top of her dress, to press between her legs. She leaned back against him, her knees losing all strength.

“Yes.”

“I want you naked, Priscilla.”

“Yes.”

“I want you to welcome me into your body.”

“Yes.”

“I want you to forget about everything you thought
you knew about men and women.” He nibbled a trail along her neck, then met her gaze in the mirror. “Trust me to take care of you.”

She nodded, nearly incapable of words.

“Unfasten your corset. I will get this dress off you. I want to feel
you
against me, not twenty petticoats.”

“I have only one.” Obediently she began to unclip the fastenings on the front of her corset.

“Even one is too many.” The dress loosened around her hips, and he tugged it down. Her petticoat followed. “Step forward.”

She obeyed, stepping out of her dress and petticoat as she managed to unclasp the last fastening of her corset. The stiff undergarment came off in her hands, leaving her clad only in chemise, drawers, and stockings.

“I'll take that.” He flung it away, then turned her around and brought her close for a hot, openmouthed kiss that sent her mind spinning. Her naked breasts rubbed against his cotton shirt, and even the soft material stimulated her sensitized flesh to a near unbearable peak. Now that the layers of clothing were all but gone, she could feel his hardness stiff against her stomach. Instead of being frightened, she pressed closer.

He made a growling noise in his throat and clasped both hands on her bottom, grinding against her. She clung to his shoulders, uncertain yet willing to be led where he would take her.

He ripped his mouth away. “I need you, Priscilla.”

“Yes,” she replied, then gasped as he reached
down and dragged her chemise over her head. The garment caught on her hair, but he tugged it loose. A pin went flying.

The plink of it hitting the floor caught his attention. “Let down your hair. You refused me at the inn. Let me see it now.” He rested his forehead against hers, pulling her close against him. “Please, Priscilla.”

She could not resist his plea. She reached up to pull the pins from her hair. The movement thrust her breasts forward, and he bent to take one nipple into his mouth. The damp scrape of his tongue against her tight nipple incited a little moan from her throat. Blindly she jerked at the hairpins, dropping them to the floor as quickly as she yanked them free. Her dark hair tumbled in long, curling hanks around her shoulders.

He let her nipple slide slowly from his mouth, licking it one last time before straightening and thrusting his hands into her loosened hair to hold her head while he kissed her.

Her body vibrated with strange, compelling sensations; dark, sensual emotions that she did not understand but instinctively craved. His blatantly sexual kiss, the touch of his tongue and teeth, his greedy hands that seemed to explore all of her at once—it all drove this demanding, irresistible need to a higher pitch.

He broke the kiss. “I cannot wait any longer. Forgive me, Priscilla, for not taking more time.” He yanked at the fastenings of his shirt, then leaned forward and gave her another quick kiss. “I promise that next time I will have more control.”

She tried to help him remove his shirt, but he stopped.

“No, don't. I don't have much control left at all. Ah, hell.” He stripped the shirt off and threw it on the floor, then curled his arm around her waist and pulled her against him. Bare flesh met bare flesh. He rubbed her against him, the hair on his chest grazing her sensitive breasts with delicious friction. He kissed her again and slid his hand between her legs, through the slit in her drawers, and slipped one finger inside her.

She jerked, breaking the kiss, and grabbed his shoulders as her breath shuddered from between her lips.

“God, you're so ready for me.” He closed his eyes, resting his forehead against hers again, teasing her damp, swelling loins with his fingers. “One more minute of this and it will be too late for me.” With evident reluctance, he pulled his hand free. “Take off your drawers, Priscilla, and lie on the bed.”

Arousal vibrated through her at the rough command. She slid the drawers off and dropped them on the floor, leaving her still clad in her stockings, garters, and shoes. She bent over to unfasten her shoes.

He stroked a hand over her head. “You have no idea how arousing that position is, sweetheart. But that is for another time. Leave the bloody shoes on and go lie on the bed.”

She straightened and sent him a puzzled look.