Page 57 of Marriage with a Proper Stranger

She nodded, biting her lower lip. Sabrina wore a large apron over her light gray wool dress. He moved behind her to work the knot free. Considering what she’d revealed about her marriage, it was a safe bet she’d never reached a sexual peak. Why would she? Her husband was a reprobate and a rapist. “I am going to caress and kiss every bit of exposed skin. Suckle your breasts, and as I do, insert my fingers inside you and stroke.” Sabrina gave a sharp inhalation of breath at his wicked words.

The apron fell to the floor. Riordan encircled his arm across her chest, leaning her against him. “Tell me to cease and I will. You have my promise. Any time you’re uncomfortable, let me know.”

“How experienced are you?” she asked, her voice breathless.

“Not as much as you may think. But I’m a quick learner. I have learned this: sex is an intimate act, and when emotions are in the mix it makes the experience all the more intoxicating. When you touched me the other night? I’ve never experienced such soaring heights before. Not with any woman. Only with you.”

“Oh. How wonderful,” she whispered.

He kissed the crown of her head. “It will be for you as well. I know it.”

“I wish I had your confidence.” She laughed brokenly.

“I will say this once and never mention it again: your relations with your brutal and cruel husband were not based in intimacy or emotion, but in hatred and humiliation. Let us banish those memories forever.”

A great sob left her throat, and he hugged her tighter, holding her close as she calmed and softened in his arms. He turned her about to face him and kissed her tenderly.

Breaking the kiss, she gave him a tremulous smile. “Yes. Let us banish the memories.”

Nodding, he slowly unbuttoned her dress down to her waist. Already the creamy mounds of her breasts were visible, peeking out from the top of her corset. The sight caused him to harden further. He pushed the dress off her shoulders, then pulled it down past her waist until it pooled at her feet. Her corset was not the heavily boned one that women in the upper classes wore, but of a malleable linen. It had front laces, and small blue roses sewn into the stays.

He next removed her two petticoats. Sabrina stepped out of her shoes. She wore blue knee-length drawers and white stockings. He got down on one knee and glided his fingers up her shapely leg to untie the strings of her stockings. Placing her foot on his thigh, he pulled off one stocking and tossed it aside. Sabrina curled her toes and kneaded his thigh. He did the same with the other leg.

“Shall I remove more?” he questioned.

“Not tonight. Mary will be by soon. Will it be all right? Are you able to…to…”

“Gain access to your most feminine attributes?” He moved his hand up her leg and slipped it between them. She gasped at the contact as his fingers delved into the slit in her drawers and brushed by her curls. “I will manage.”

He stood and led her to the bed. It was not wide at all, barely room for the both of them. But if he lay on his side, it could be accomplished. Once they were on the bed, he skimmed his fingers along the top of her breasts, across her bare shoulders and down her arms. Her breath caught and held as he tugged at the laces at the front of her corset, loosening them. When he kissed the tops of her breasts she exhaled, and it ended on a sensual moan. He kissed the hollow of her throat, moving upward until their lips met. Heat flared and he plundered, giving all he had, everything he felt.

Already this had moved beyond any experience with other women. The desire was inexplicable. Never-ending. Complete.

Breaking the kiss, he started removing the pins from her hair. Sabrina gazed up at him, her expression, though tense, also showed trust. Again he was humbled. Gathering the pins and laying them on the small table next to the bed, Riordan ran his hands through her golden-brown locks. As silky as her skin. He laid the strands across the pillow. “You are beautiful,” he murmured.

Her eyes glistened. “Thank you. Though I’m not as firm as I once—”

He laid the tips of his fingers on her lips. “That you are four years older means nothing to me. Nothing should matter in this bed but you and I. The pleasure we give each other.”

Trailing his fingers downward, they tangled in the laces once again. With slow deliberation, he pulled them apart. Sabrina’s ample breasts rose and fell with each exhale. Dear God, they were stunning. Large enough to fill his hand and more. The nipples were coral pink and pebbled.

He cupped one gently, his thumb brushing past her nipple again and again. Sabrina moaned, her back arching slightly. The sight of her pleasure was more than he could bear. He leaned in and suckled her, squeezing her ample breast as he did.

“Oh!” she gasped. His heart nearly burst when she slid her hand at the nape of his neck and pulled him in closer. His free hand trailed down her side, taking a leisurely journey across her curves. Her legs parted, and a smile curved across his lips as his fingers found her dampened curls. Parting her folds, he inserted two fingers. Tight. Oh, so tight.

Sabrina writhed and he stilled—had he hurt her? When another moan escaped her, he continued his ministrations. As he stroked in and out of her, his thumb rubbed her sensitive nub while he continued to lick and suckle her breast.

“Heavens…what…”

“Let yourself go, Sabrina. Embrace the sensations. Own your desire.”

The words must have been what she needed to hear, for she relaxed and the moans increased in volume. He watched her, committing this to memory: her eyes closed, her hips slowly undulating with each stroke of his fingers. Yes. She was close.

With a final arch of her back she cried out, her body shuddering as ripples of pleasure moved through her with her release. God, he was ready to explode. He pulled his hand of out her, unbuttoned the fall of his trousers, reached in and stroked himself, once, twice, three… He groaned, his body shook. The damned intensity of this. What would it be like to be deep inside her heat? His head hit the pillow and he pulled Sabrina next to him. She still shook, her breathing as harsh and raw as his. He kissed her forehead. “Are you all right?”

Chapter 22

All right? How could she ever be all right after this? Tears formed in her eyes. She’d had no idea, no inkling, that it could be like this between a man and woman. There was such tender concern in his voice. She laid her head on his chest, his heart beating rapidly, matching the rhythm of her own. “I am in awe,” she whispered.