Page 41 of A Necessary Wife

A slow smile appeared on his face. “More than kisses, I think. Your pleasure comes first, then mine. That is how it should always be between us. There will be no repeat of the last time we were together.”

She did not quite understand what he meant by that, but she nodded. For now, she would simply follow his lead and enjoy him until she knew it all.

He caught her face in his hands again and kissed her softly before drawing back.

Amelia wet her lips, tasting him, and set her hand against his chest to steady herself when her knees trembled.

Chatham struggled out of his coat and waistcoat.

He caught her face again and drew her back for another, deeper kiss that went on forever. The brush of his tongue across the seam of her lips made her gasp in shock, and when his tongue brushed hers, she clutched at him.

Kissing Chatham was no rushed or brief experience today. He tasted her, devoured her, and made her pulse race with the excitement of what they did together.

She became aware that his fingers were digging into her neat bun and tugging. Amelia broke the kiss when a hairpin dug into her skull quite painfully. She reached up and removed it. “If you wanted my hair down, you could have asked.”

“I was trying to be subtle,” he said.

Chatham had not been subtle in the whole time she’d known him, and she laughed. “You failed, my lord,” she said.

He sighed. “Would you please take your hair down?”

“Of course, if it pleases you.”

“It does.”

Amelia raised her hands, found the remaining pins her maid had secured her bun with, and removed them. She shook her head to bring her hair to lose order.

Chatham groaned.

She looked at him quickly, startled by the raw, desperate sound. But he only captured her head again and kissed her deeply.

While they kissed, she felt him playing with her locks. She smiled against his lips, liking the way it felt when he ran his fingers through the long lengths as he crushed her to him.

She swayed into him, liking the strength of his body against hers, and wondered when the rest of his clothes would come off.

She did not have long to wait.

Her husband ripped open his cravat and then removed his shirt, paused kissing her only long enough to pull the latter garment over her head but left his cravat about his neck.

Amelia’s breath caught. Chatham was solid muscle, hard and almost unyielding under her fingertips. She swooned a little, overcome by him.

Chatham swept her up into his arms without warning and carried her to the small settee. He sat her down on his lap.

She squirmed, confused. “I thought we were to make love?”

“And we will. Right here.”

She glanced around them, startled. “Surely not?”

“Wait and see,” he whispered, and then his lips were nibbling on her neck and his hands, fingertips, were dancing lightly over her torso.

Her nipples tingled the first time he circled them.

She squirmed until he moved onto other less sensitive parts of her body, stroking her hip and her thigh through her gown, while he sat in a state of half dress.

Amelia turned to liquid as she stroked the hot, muscled body beneath her. Chatham appeared ravenous to kiss her everywhere. She felt a brush of cold across her back and shivered, lowering her gown’s bodice in the process.

Chatham grinned and helped lower it farther with his teeth, until her arms were free of the sleeves. Amelia glanced down and watched Chatham frown at the laces of her stays, clearly unable to untie her.