Page 101 of The Language of Love

“I’m not a v-virgin.”

It was not the confession he’d been dreading—that she was too in love with another man to allow Henry to touch her—and Henry was too surprised to have a quick response.

Objectively, he knew he should feel angry. After all, men wanted to marry virgins. That was no secret.

“Henry? Are you horribly disappointed?”

“Er… disappointed?” Was he? He wasn’t sure what he felt.

Henry didn’t like the thought of her lying with another man, but that was jealousy rather than disappointment. He wanted to ask who it was but didn’t really want to hear the answer. Because if it was Avington, a man she loved, Henry could never compare.

He opened his mouth to reassure her that he wasn’t angry or disappointed, but she spoke first.

“You’re probably thinking that I’m a—a—shameless hussy.”

He gave a startled laugh. “I’m sorry,” he said when she looked hurt. “I’m laughing because that was not what I was thinking.” He could hardly tell her he was hoping it wasn’t Avington who’d been her lover.

So, instead, he said, “You needn’t be upset, Annis. I don’t blame you for doing something I’ve done, myself.” Pretty much every week since he’d been sixteen.

She stared at the lapels of his robe, restlessly stroking his hip and buttock, smoothing the fabric over his hot, sensitive skin again and again. Henry suspected she didn’t realize just what she was doing—or how it was affecting him.

“But that’s different. Men aren’t considered spoiled if they—well, you know. But men expect a maiden on their wedding night. Especially—” she broke off, chewing that delicious lip of hers again.

“I hope you weren’t going to say especially wealthy men?” But her expression told him that was exactly what she was about to say.

Henry sighed. “First off, you aren’t spoiled. Second, I didn’t buy you, Annis. And I certainly didn’t buy your maidenhead.” His mouth flexed into a moue of distaste. “To be honest, I don’t understand the male preoccupation with virginity.” He carefully teased out a strand of hair that was tangled in her eyelashes and tucked it behind her ear. “I’ll admit I don’t enjoy thinking of you with another man, but I don’t think any less of you. Understand?”

She nodded but kept chewing her lower lip.

“Is this what has been making you look so miserable all week?”

“Yes.”

“Well, you can stop worrying now. We’re married, Annis. Let’s try to forget about our awkward betrothal, shall we? Let’s go back to that day on the picnic blanket—but instead of stopping, we can explore each other fully all night long.”

“I can’t believe you’re not angry.”

“Believe it.” He slid his arms around her slender body and brought her up onto her toes, but he still needed to bend almost in half to kiss her.

Her arms twined like sturdy vines around his neck and drew him down while he plundered her mouth.

His Annis was not shy and plundered him in return, albeit clumsily and adorably. It didn’t take him long to lure her tongue into his mouth, and he closed his lips around her and suckled.

She jolted and gasped.

“Didn’t you like that?” he asked, trailing soft kisses from her mouth up to her ear and nibbling gently on her velvety lobe.

“I liked it,” she said in a breathy voice, “But you surprised me. I wouldn’t have guessed it would feel so good to do that.”

Henry slid his hands beneath her surprisingly generous bottom and lifted her up as he straightened his back. “Wrap your legs around me.”

“But—aren’t I too heavy?”

“No. And it’s far easier on my spine than bending is.”

She opened her slim legs and Henry grunted when she pressed her spread sex against his hard shaft.

“God, you feel good,” he muttered, rolling his hips to notch himself in her soft cleft.