Page 66

He gathered her into his embrace, her fingers tangling in his dark hair.

"You must tell me instantly if I press too hard upon your shoulder," George whispered softly against her skin.

"My shoulder is entirely healed, George," Helena murmured. "It is not my wound that causes my breath to stop, but the simple truth that I am lying here beside you."

"I can see the hesitation in your eyes, my sweet love," George spoke gently, his thumb tracing her lower lip. "Look at me, Helena. We have all the hours of the night, and all the years of our lives before us. If you wish for me to simply hold you until the morning comes, you need only speak the word."

"I do not wish to wait, George," she confessed, her voice trembling slightly. "I am merely... unaccustomed to such feeling. To give myself to you so completely, body and soul... it fills me with a wonder so vast that I scarcely know how to contain it."

George's eyes softened.

"You do not have to contain it, Helena," he whispered back. "You have given my brother's son a mother's love, and you have taught a broken man how to feel again. My heart, my life, and my body are already entirely yours. You hold all the power here, my sweet Duchess."

Helena reached up, cupping the back of his neck, pulling his head down until his lips met hers in a kiss that was no longer hesitant or tentative, but rich, deep, and intoxicatingly warm.

George let his hands trace the curves of her waist and hips, his palms warm against her skin. Helena gasped into his mouth as his touch sent heat coursing through her body. Every nerve in her frame seemed to awaken to his presence. When his hands gently pulled her gown to her ankles, she did not shrink away.

George moaned as his gaze swept over her. He looked at her, eyes burning with an awe so profound that words were not needed for Helena to understand his thoughts.

"You are breathtaking, Helena. The most beautiful sight my eyes will ever behold."

Helena smiled, her eyes filled with joy. "I can only imagine the poetry you would fill my ears and heart with every day."

"No amount of words could express the way my heart beats for you. Even my kisses will not be enough," George replied softly, planting a kiss on Helena's forehead.

"Your kisses might not be enough, but it's a start. And I am more than content with my husband's touch, especially right now."

George kissed her again, their lips connected in a frenzy. There was ferocity in the kiss, hands moving along sweaty skin that burned even under the night's cold.

With their clothes off, nothing shielded their bodies from each other. George's lips travelled from Helena's lips to her neck, nibbling her skin gently. He bit down on her shoulders, making her shudder as his fingers found her nipples pressed against his chest. Helena could feel his fingers tease her, running circles around her nipples, pressing down on her areolas.

His lips travelled lower, kissing the rise of her chest and the curve of her breasts. He kissed the sides, the tops, the bottoms but consistently avoided her nipples. She could feel his breath brush against them, but when she thought he would finally ease her misery, his lips ran away again.

She ached for him. She knew he could feel it. But she trusted him to show her the way, show her more than she'd known before.

As if knowing that she had surrendered, George's wet tongue swiped against her nipple. She gasped, surprised at the pleasure that shot through her body. Then his mouth closed over the peak of her breast.

He drew one nipple into his mouth, the precise pressure of his teeth making her back arch. His mouth was careful but quickly grew dangerous. It seemed like George was chasing something as his fingers covered her neglected nipple, pulling, rubbing and teasing just as much as his tongue and teeth did on the other.

She heard her own voice panting. Her mind was in a frenzy, screaming at his touch and drowning her deeper in the throes of passion that flooded her. George knew exactly what to do, his experienced touch more than enough to set Helena's untouched body alight.

Then she felt George's lips press against her thighs. "George… what are you doing down there?"

George only responded with a smile, a devilish one that frightened her and excited her in a single breath.

He wrapped an arm around each thigh, holding her legs apart with strength that didn't let her move. She struggled to no avail, strangely delighted by the strength and experience that held her still.

"My dear, let me show you how much I yearn for you. Day and night, winter and summer, sick and well."

George didn't give her a chance to respond, his mouth enveloping her core. She moaned, arching her body as George's tongue grazed her folds. She couldn't explain what his touch did to her, but she didn't want him to stop.

Seconds later, coming back from the brink, her hand found its way into George's hair. She rubbed his scalp gently, purring under his explorations. His tongue moved in ways she'd never considered possible, tugging on the pearl at her center, teasing it before pulling it into his mouth.

The warmth and wetness shook her, and she immediately hooked her legs at his back, the back of her knees sitting on his shoulders. Her hair was already a mess, but it didn't stop George.

He slipped a hand between her thighs, pushing forward slowly as he coated his fingers in the juices that already covered her thighs. She could feel how wet the sheets beneath her were, but George's assault would not let her complain. She could not question his methods—something she had never heard of before—but she knew that if she tried, her body wouldn't let her.

George's fingers pressed against her clit, his thumb and index finger tugging it like a gentle caress. She feared he would get rough, but her fears were unnecessary. George took his time, raising the threshold of pleasure that flowed through her body.