He pulled away slightly and she mourned the touch of his mouth, but she could not blame him; she had reminded him of the woman he had married, the one who had no figure to speak of. But he did not drop his gentle touch. ‘Do you remember what I told you at the ball?’
‘I…’
‘That you are the most beautiful woman in any room.’
‘Yes, but…’
‘I meant it.’
‘But…’
‘No, there are no buts. You are heart-stoppingly lovely.’ He pressed a soft kiss to her jaw, another to the length of her neck. ‘I ache to see you; I have for a long, long time.’ A kiss at the base of her throat. ‘ButI can wait. Whenever you are ready, my beautifully exquisite wife.’ His lips pressed firmly against her mouth and she moaned into him.
He lifted his head; his eyes were glassy. He dropped a final kiss to her forehead before moving away, giving her the space to think. She’d never imagined that he would be so patient, would allow her to explore him, to let her take the lead in their first exploration of one another. Freddie was kind and he was asking for her to trust him to take care of her. She could turn him down or she could let herself put her faith in him. Slowly she kneeled, turning, so that her back was facing him. ‘Some of the hooks on the dress are a little difficult.’
She heard his quick inhale, followed by a long, slow release of air, and a surge of triumph rushed through her. Her husband desired her; the strange pull she had towards his body was reciprocated. She’d thought as much, but his reaction to her could not be faked. Whatever happened between them in the future, at least they had this mutual desire in common.
She heard him move up behind her, felt his breath in her hair and the brush of his fingers against the skin of her neck. ‘These first,’ he murmured, loosening the pins of her hair, teasing each one out and running his fingers through the strands. He dropped each one on the grass beside them, the tiny ting of them hitting one another marking a step away from her life before. By the time he had finished, she was almost boneless, so relaxed she had almost forgotten about her dress and his intentions.
He brushed her hair to one side, draping it over one shoulder, his fingertips on the top of her spine. He worked in silence, unhooking each binding until the dress loosened around her ribcage. Her breath was coming quickly now, racing as if she had been running.
He helped her to stand and the dress fell to the ground.
Her wedding dress had a built-in bodice; now all that stood between her and nakedness was the thin cotton of her chemise. The breeze swirled around her ankles, ruffling the hem of the material.
‘If you want me to stop at any time, please tell me. I would rather die than hurt you.’ Freddie’s voice was husky, almost unrecognisable.
‘I will.’ Her own voice was breathy and insubstantial.
Freddie leaned down, his fingers brushing the backs of her knees as he lifted the material, pulling it slowly up over her hips, her shoulders and up over her head. Freddie made an inarticulate noise that bordered on the verge of pain.
‘You are lovely,’ he whispered, his breath on her skin making her shiver. Goosebumps rushed over her, tightening something within her that ached deliciously.
His fingers skimmed over her back to the dip at the base of her spine. She turned slowly, his hands resting lightly on her hips as they came chest to chest.
As in the garden, she had no idea who moved first, but his lips were finally on hers and so it didn’t matter. Somehow, they made it to the ground, his mouth never leaving hers, his hands stroking, cleverly winding her up until she was keening, pleading for something she didn’t understand. She tugged at him, wanting the heavenly weight of his body against the length of hers. He grunted as he landed, his arms coming up to hold most of his weight off her. His hardness dug into her stomach as his kiss turned wild. She matched him, arching up, wanting more, wanting everything.
He tore his mouth free, panting as he gazed down at her, his expression like nothing she had seen before. ‘Here? Now?’
‘Yes. Now.’
‘I will stop if it…’
‘Never stop.’ She pulled his mouth back to hers.
Slowly his hardness eased into her, a moment of discomfort passing quickly as he murmured words, some inarticulate, some words of praise, words about his good fortune and her beauty and how perfect she was.
In this moment, she believed every word that fell from his lips, although they couldn’t all be true because it almost sounded as if he adored her.
His hand found the back of her knee, bending her leg and somehow increasing the exquisite pressure. She cried out and he groaned into her neck. ‘I cannot hold out much longer.’
She did not know what he meant; surely this should last forever? ‘I do not…’
He shifted again, his hand sliding between them. She gave a small whine of disappointment at the sudden air between their chests; she wanted to feel the press of his skin all over. But then his fingers touched her in a way that had her arching her back. ‘Oh, more, more of that,’ she cried out, clutching his shoulders, unheeding of everything else but what he was doing.
‘Christ, Emily. I can’t…’ But whatever he couldn’t do was lost on her as her world splintered, sensation spiralling out to every part of her body, lighting her up from the inside.
When it was over, she was lying in the crook of his arm as he stroked her back, her hair, the curve of her waist. There was sweat drying on their skin and it cooled her. She shivered, pressing closer to his warmth.
