She’d been alone with him so many times—why did this feel so different? Perhaps it was because of the big four-poster bed looming behind her, or that she was only wearing her nightdress and dressing gown.
She stepped back, opening the door wider. “Please come in.” She shut the door behind him, and knew she’d taken a step into the unknown, where she might at last be able to find the answers she sought. Turning about and leaning against the door, she smiled at him. “I had a lovely day, Robert. Lord Blackthorne and his wife are gracious, kind people.”
“I agree.”
She gave a little start, surprised that he was so close.
“But do you want to know the best part of the day?” he continued, his voice becoming husky. “It was having you at my side, as my hostess. This place suddenly felt like a home to me.”
“Oh, Robert.”
When he took her upper arms in his hands, she lifted her face for his kiss. Their mouths were greedy in their exploration, hot and wet. She found herself falling back against the door, trapped by his big body pressing into hers. They were wearing so little clothing that she could feel the hard indentations of his chest, and the way his heart pounded against hers.
She felt herself coming alive. Robert was kissing her as if she were the finest wine and he’d never been so thirsty. He burrowed his face into her neck, tasting her skin, nipping at her until she shuddered.
And then she felt his hand move along her side and up her torso, cupping her breast, making her gasp at the burst of heat and sensitivity and exquisite pleasure. He kneaded her through the thin silk garments, rubbing the hard point of her nipple between his fingers.
She was restless and trembling against him, feeling as if she’d fall to the floor if she couldn’t hold onto him. She bunched his shirt at the back and pulled, until she could touch the hot skin of his lower back. It seemed wicked and daring and made her only want more.
She felt her dressing gown part, her hair come loose under his fingers, and he kissed his way down her neck. Dropping to his knees, he spread her gown wide even as he kissed a line down her collarbone and between her breasts. She felt the touch of his whiskered cheek against her breast a moment before he took her nipple into his mouth right through her nightdress. She cried out and arched her back, as if she could press all of her inside him.
He caught one of her knees up against his side, moving his torso between her thighs even as he continued to suckle and lickat her breasts. He felt strong and hot against the intimate depths of her body, and she shamelessly rubbed herself against him.
Her nightdress brushed against her legs as he slowly drew it up her body, separating just long enough to drag it along her sensitive skin. She was the one who took it on its last journey, pulling it up and over her head, feeling her hair fall down all around her nakedness, the brush of it suddenly as erotic as his fingers.
And then she realized how pale a thought that was, because his fingers began to touch her everywhere, even as he still knelt at her feet. Out of the darkness, his caresses skimmed her ribs, her hips, behind her knees, sliding along between her thighs. When his hands palmed her hips, she felt the brush of his thumbs along her curls, sliding deeper into her wetness, parting her.
And then he kissed her there, and she cried out, trembling, her hands pressed to his shoulders to hold herself up. He licked her, teased her, suckled her, and just when she climbed toward that peak of pleasure for only the second time in her life, he suddenly rose and swept her off her feet, carrying her to the bed. Though he set her down gently, she could hear movement, and knew he was tugging off his own garments. Not caring if she impeded him, she explored the flat ripples of his stomach, tugged at the buttons of his trousers, then heard him groan as she palmed the hard length of him through his undergarments as his trousers sagged down his hips.
“Hurry,” she whispered, falling back on the bed.
Without shame, she threw her arms wide against all the pillows, arching her back, displaying herself for him, feeling beautiful and desirable, all the things he’d brought to life in her. The mattress sagged with his weight as he crawled toward her. He spread her thighs with his big hands, then settled betweenthem, over her, holding most of his weight with his hands on either side of her head.
She felt his erection hot and hard against her, sliding the length of her once, twice, until she moaned her need of him and clutched his body closer. And then he slid home, deep inside her, and there was no pain, just the fullness of knowing they were joined together at last.
21
Robert didn’t move—couldn’t move—staring down into Audrey’s flushed face, her eyes half closed, her lips moistly parted. He’d never felt so connected to a woman, had never come so close to pure bliss, pure sensation.
But the urges were strong inside him, and she was making the most erotic little gasps of pleasure. He bent to kiss her, to take in the sounds she made when he first began to move.
They shared a moan, and he kissed her deeply, mimicking with his tongue what he was doing to her body. Her knees lifted, her thighs clutched his hips, and he rolled against her in slow building movements. He reached to capture the fullness of her breast again, and watched in wonder as she found her pleasure, the depths of her body shuddering all around him, her face full of joy and contentment as the last waves of it moved through her.
He couldn’t wait any longer, driving into her over and over until the passion took him away, and he poured himself inside her.
Then stillness came over him as he enjoyed the press of her moist skin along every inch of his. He braced himself on his elbows and looked down into her face. He wasn’t certain ofher expression, and he found his thoughts returning to the first moments in her room, how he hadn’t even asked her permission, had just swept her away with his kisses and passion.
Had he seduced her in an attempt to control? He’d come to her room with deliberate intention after all. He found himself questioning everything he’d been doing all along, making her think he was indispensable when he’d told himself he was only trying to help. Had he just been trying to have his way?
But they could have a good marriage, he knew that, and they both wanted children. He could make this work.
“Are you all right?” he murmured, kissing her cheek and her temple and the tip of her nose.
“Hmm.”
Her response was a hum, and her satisfied smile a balm to his guilty conscience.
“I saw your freckles at last.”
