ago. How could she explain?
Well, I’ve decided to marry a man I don’t particularly like, a man I may actually dislike, and I want my one night of dreams first. I’ve realized that you are that dream. And because I will be married soon I am not risking scandal or ruination. For the first time I can take what I want and not worry.
But she could not say any of that. It said too much, and yet not enough. “Because for reasons I do not understand you make me feel desire. Does it really matter beyond that? I am here. You are here. There is a bed and we are alone.”
“It is simple when you put it in such words,” he replied.
Simple? It was anything but simple; still, she did not argue. Her head fell forward, inviting further caresses from the hand that still lingered at her shoulder. She did not want to think, she wanted only to feel, to live in this moment, to live in her body.
His fingers stroked and soothed, slowly slipping lower, until they reached for the laces of her gown. She stiffened, but did not demur. This was what she wanted. And he had seen her unclothed before, at least parts of her. Could it really be so different to be completely naked?
But, except for her breasts, he had not seen her for years. She was not the same girl, the same body she had been back then. She stiffened further.
“What is wrong?” his voice soothed.
“I am…different than you remember.”
“I know. Do you think I do not have eyes? You are fuller, rounder, softer. I am eager to see these changes. I’ve always had a fondness for curves.”
“But I am also saggier and more dimpled. You may not find it attractive.”
“You are twenty-four, not eighty-four. And I do not think I’ve ever noticed dimples on a woman, except on her cheeks. And I’ve a distinct fondness for those.”
A slight heat rose on her face. Somehow she sensed he was not talking about the cheeks upon her face.
Her dress slipped low, dropping almost to her waist, only the bend in her elbows keeping it from falling completely. Only her chemise and light corset covered her.
She pulled a deep breath in, willed herself to calm. He had liked her breasts last night, and he’d adored them five years ago. There was no fear in letting him see them.
His hands slid up her bare back and brushed the straps of her chemise from her shoulders. “I want to see all of you. Be still now and let me finish undressing you.”
What was it about that hint of command in his voice that had her knees weakening and her breathing speeding up?
A slight movement at her back and she knew her corset was undone.
His fingers trailed down her shoulders, her arms, until he reached the point where her clothing had caught. With gentle slowness, he pushed the fabric lower, down past her elbows, her forearms, her wrists, and her fingertips. And then his hands were at her waist, pushing the gown and chemise past the last resistance of her hips.
The dress and undergarments fell, pooling about her feet.
She was naked. She was standing in the middle of the room naked.
Her hands started to rise, to shield herself, but he caught them and held them still, pulling them out from her body. “No, let me see you. Stay still and let me look my fill.”
He stepped back, the heat from his body leaving her. She heard him take another step, and then another, before pausing. Was it possible to feel the sweep of eyes, to know that he admired the slope of her spine, the indent of her waist, the fullness of her—he was staring at her behind, her much-too-large behind. Her cheeks, the ones on her face, must be a thousand shades of red. She started to turn. It would be better to have him stare at her breasts than at her backside.
“No,” he growled. “Be still. This is my turn. Let me enjoy.”
His turn? Wasn’t this about her choice? But did she truly mind?
“God, your ass is magnificent, so full and lush.” His voice was low and husky.
No, perhaps she didn’t mind at all. She’d probably
Well, I’ve decided to marry a man I don’t particularly like, a man I may actually dislike, and I want my one night of dreams first. I’ve realized that you are that dream. And because I will be married soon I am not risking scandal or ruination. For the first time I can take what I want and not worry.
But she could not say any of that. It said too much, and yet not enough. “Because for reasons I do not understand you make me feel desire. Does it really matter beyond that? I am here. You are here. There is a bed and we are alone.”
“It is simple when you put it in such words,” he replied.
Simple? It was anything but simple; still, she did not argue. Her head fell forward, inviting further caresses from the hand that still lingered at her shoulder. She did not want to think, she wanted only to feel, to live in this moment, to live in her body.
His fingers stroked and soothed, slowly slipping lower, until they reached for the laces of her gown. She stiffened, but did not demur. This was what she wanted. And he had seen her unclothed before, at least parts of her. Could it really be so different to be completely naked?
But, except for her breasts, he had not seen her for years. She was not the same girl, the same body she had been back then. She stiffened further.
“What is wrong?” his voice soothed.
“I am…different than you remember.”
“I know. Do you think I do not have eyes? You are fuller, rounder, softer. I am eager to see these changes. I’ve always had a fondness for curves.”
“But I am also saggier and more dimpled. You may not find it attractive.”
“You are twenty-four, not eighty-four. And I do not think I’ve ever noticed dimples on a woman, except on her cheeks. And I’ve a distinct fondness for those.”
A slight heat rose on her face. Somehow she sensed he was not talking about the cheeks upon her face.
Her dress slipped low, dropping almost to her waist, only the bend in her elbows keeping it from falling completely. Only her chemise and light corset covered her.
She pulled a deep breath in, willed herself to calm. He had liked her breasts last night, and he’d adored them five years ago. There was no fear in letting him see them.
His hands slid up her bare back and brushed the straps of her chemise from her shoulders. “I want to see all of you. Be still now and let me finish undressing you.”
What was it about that hint of command in his voice that had her knees weakening and her breathing speeding up?
A slight movement at her back and she knew her corset was undone.
His fingers trailed down her shoulders, her arms, until he reached the point where her clothing had caught. With gentle slowness, he pushed the fabric lower, down past her elbows, her forearms, her wrists, and her fingertips. And then his hands were at her waist, pushing the gown and chemise past the last resistance of her hips.
The dress and undergarments fell, pooling about her feet.
She was naked. She was standing in the middle of the room naked.
Her hands started to rise, to shield herself, but he caught them and held them still, pulling them out from her body. “No, let me see you. Stay still and let me look my fill.”
He stepped back, the heat from his body leaving her. She heard him take another step, and then another, before pausing. Was it possible to feel the sweep of eyes, to know that he admired the slope of her spine, the indent of her waist, the fullness of her—he was staring at her behind, her much-too-large behind. Her cheeks, the ones on her face, must be a thousand shades of red. She started to turn. It would be better to have him stare at her breasts than at her backside.
“No,” he growled. “Be still. This is my turn. Let me enjoy.”
His turn? Wasn’t this about her choice? But did she truly mind?
“God, your ass is magnificent, so full and lush.” His voice was low and husky.
No, perhaps she didn’t mind at all. She’d probably
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