He stopped his forward push. “It hurts?” His words were ragged.
“A bit.”
He teased her nipple with his fingers. He dipped down and coaxed her lips with his own.
She relaxed with his ministrations, and discomfort gave way to other, more pleasurable sensations. “Better,” she breathed.
He sank into her fully. He rocked slowly, every inch of him working to bring her pleasure.
She rocked with him, letting her palms roam where they wished, through his hair, over his shoulders, down his delicious back and over his backside. She shivered. Touching him there gave her almost as much pleasure as when he touched her there. He couldn’t do that at the moment, pressed as her backside was to the mattress, but perhaps there were other ways of coupling that would allow him access. She’d enjoyed, briefly, sitting atop him—“Oh!”
A delightful friction pulsed through her as he increased the pace. A tension built inside her with every push forward and draw back.
“Faster,” she gasped. She needed to see what happened to the tension when, well, who knew. “Faster,” she breathed, pushing into his thrusts.
Together, they set a frantic pace that surely shook the house itself until the world of bright sensation between them exploded into a sea of calm.
Chapter 17
Henrietta lay sweaty and sated beside Grayson. She’d certainly discovered what happened when the tension drew too taut. Something very good, indeed. In fact, the most good ever. They’d moved together like separate parts of a roller printing machine, working in harmony to create something new and beautiful, a tapestry of brilliant colors and shapes, the movements of each printed onto the body of the other.
But the recognition did not bring her pure pleasure. The compatibility of their bodies served to remind her of the incompatibility of their stations.
She shook it away. She wouldn’t acknowledge any of it right now. She drowned out the anxious thought by turning into his chest and inhaling his scent. He smelled like lake water. She chuckled. “I’m glad we didn’t do that last year. I’d have gone mad without it, I think. For a full year?” She exhaled her disbelief.
He pressed a kiss to her temple and pulled her closer. “You’d like to do it again, then, I take it?”
Would she have the opportunity? She curled more tightly against him, nodding her eagerness into his chest, despite her doubt, and murmured sleepily, “Thank God we’re in an abandoned wing.”
He sat up, pulling her with him, and peeked behind the headboard. “Do you think we damaged the bed? Or the wall?”
Henrietta couldn’t bring herself to care about the wall or the bed. She clung to him, attempting to banish rising doubts.
Grayson also had little to say, but the steady heartbeat beneath her ear suggested his silence was not a troubled one. Time slowed quietly around them until Henrietta lost count of their breaths and heartbeats, until she had almost silenced her own troubles.
“Hen?”
“Hm?”
“I’ve been thinking. Wondering.”
She groaned. “Must we think?”
He nudged her gently and kissed the top of her head. “You’ll excuse me if I insist. I’d like to make sure no more misunderstandings plague us. I’d rather nothing get in the way of this.” He nodded to their intertwined bodies and pulled her onto his lap.
Misunderstandings. Tobias had lied. Her body tensed, and he nuzzled her shoulder until she relaxed.
“I’m baffled,” she revealed. Baffled. Enraged, too. “Why did Tobias lie to you? True, he’s a natural-born rake, but he is your friend.”
His lips moved against her hair. “I don’t know. I don’t care.”
Wasn’t he angry? Anger felt natural, familiar to Henrietta. It had been a faithful friend over the last year. “How can you forgive so quickly? How can you forget? Are you not angry? With me for getting engaged so soon? With Tobias for lying to you?”
“But you were never engaged,” he chuckled.
“I’m serious, Grayson.”
“Yes, I was infuriated. And”—he exhaled a guttural sigh and ran his fingers through his hair—“I could, quite frankly, tear your brother limb from limb. It wasn’t funny, his little prank.”
