“Strange, intriguing, and good.” He slowly pushed another finger inside of her, capturing her gasp on his lips. He then nuzzled her neck again. “How about now?”
“Full. Stimulating.”
Another finger. “How about now?”
She half groaned, half complained. “You are teasing me, aren’t you? It feelsfull.”
Will nipped at her neck in response. “This is just the start, love.”
Finally.
Chapter Nineteen
Harriet had arevelation.
The best relationships were not those that were created from dreams and wild fantasies but from the chemistry that sizzles between two people in a true moment—chemistry that held all the potential to transform into something more... something like love.
Harriet felt that sizzle now.
She had daydreamed about being held in her husband’s arms, had been tempted by the charm of his attempts to woo her, and now she finally lived in the breathless anticipation of becoming truly one. And while they had in no way had the perfect start, this moment between them tasted perhaps a bit sweeter for it.
Her body felt alive with his touches.
His fingers.
Lawd, it was only his fingers. She remembered what theotherpart of him looked like. What would that feel like?
Her arms looped around his neck and she pulled herself closer to his chest. As close as she could get.
“Wrap your other leg around me,” he said huskily as he fumbled with the front of his trousers and his fingers were replaced bythathard object.
She did as he instructed, the position thoroughly erotic and more scandalous than anything she could ever have imagined. They were about to make their marriage real. As real as anymarriage could get, and she didn’t feel even a murmur of fear or hesitancy. Excitement coursed through her veins.
His eyes never left her as he pushed into her. He looked magnificent, with his flushed cheeks—finally—disheveled hair, and his gaze boring into her with so much emotion she couldn’t begin to decipher all that lay within their depths. But what she did know was that she wanted to dive into them. Untangle each and every complicated fiber of his being.
A gasp was drawn from her lips as he filled her with all of him. “This feels different,” she breathed, arching into the shelf.
“Different how?”
“Differentbig.”
Harriet felt herself burn beneath his hot gaze. “Does it hurt? Tell me if it hurts.”
“Just kiss me.” The sting didn’t matter. Only him. “Kiss me, Will. Don’t hold back.”
“Damn it.”
Then his lips brushed over hers. Achingly tender. His tongue danced with hers as they explored each other’s mouths. Slowly, he started to thrust inside her. Their kiss turned to something else. The rhythm more frantic—a bolder dance.
Wicked. Oh, so wicked.
She was reeling from desire that started off as a hungry spark but quickly transformed into a ravenous fire. She embraced every moment of it.
Her lashes fluttered as she lifted them to meet his gaze, pulling back to draw in the air he stole from her lungs. He had mercy, his head lowering so that his tongue could drag over her collarbone and up the arch of her neck.
One of his hands cupped her breast through her dress, and a half-strangled moan left her lips. Her head fell back, and the pounding of his hips pushed her harder up against the shelves of books at her back.
“So damn good,” he growled in a low, strained whisper. His teeth grazed the lobe of her ear, before retaking her mouth in an urgent kiss.
