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She planted her hands on his chest, no doubt determined to hold him in place by physical strength if need be.
As if he could leave just then.
“I’m sorry for my reaction,” she said, her voice low. “I was merely surprised. But it makes no difference to me.”
He quirked one eyebrow. “Doesn’t it?”
Her lips kicked up at one corner, a faint humor lighting her eyes. “Well, mayhap a small bit. But not in any negative way.”
And then, because he was a masochist, he asked, “In what way, then?”
Once more, however, Margery surprised him. Her lids went heavy, enhancing the firelight in her eyes until he thought it would scorch him on the spot. Her hands, which had remained planted on his chest, drifted down over his torso to his hips.
His mouth went dry.
“Would you think any less of me if I told you it was…arousing?”
Well, he certainly hadn’t expected that. And neither had his…nether region…if the way it suddenly came back to life was any indication. “God, no. I think you being aroused is…arousing.”
She smiled. But it was no simple smile. No, this one held all the mysteries of the universe in it.
“Margery.”
Her name escaped him on a breath of sound, and he was powerless to rein in the need that laced it. But he needn’t have worried that he was showing his hand to her. Her response to it was more than he could ever have imagined. Her full lips opened in a small gasp, the fire seeming to have jumped from the hearth to her eyes. She leaned into him, her full breasts pressing into his chest, her stomach rubbing against his manhood. And then her mouth was on his.
If he had thought he’d wanted her before, this made it seem laughable by comparison. He was consumed, reduced to smoldering cinders under her. His cane clattered to the floor but he hardly heard it for the roaring in his ears. He cupped her face with both hands, the rich fall of her hair cascading over his fingers as he tilted her head, the better to drink of the aching sweetness that was her mouth. She opened her lips to him readily, her tongue touching his, sweeping into his mouth with a heady boldness.
But the kiss was all too short. He nearly cried out from the loss of her. It was then, however, that he felt the wet heat of her mouth on his neck. He shuddered under her, tilting his head, welcoming the exquisite torture. Her teeth dragged down the cords of his throat, working him like the finest instrument, wringing a low moan from his lips. She worked at the open neckline of his shirt, and soon her mouth trailed lower, across his collarbone, to the place just over his galloping heart.
She made a small noise deep in her throat when she could go no farther. “Well, this certainly needs to go,” she murmured. And then her small hands were on the hem of his shirt.
Instinct kicked in then. Quite without meaning to, he gripped her hands in his, stalling the removal of his shirt. She gasped, her gaze flying to his, and he fought to focus on the dazed desire glowing in her eyes. A desire that was quickly being replaced by confusion, and that would extinguish completely if he didn’t get ahold of himself.This needs to happen, he told himself firmly.Release her, and let her do what she wishes. If he was going to take a wife he needed to grow used to a woman looking at his body, after all.
But no amount of reasoning could lessen the panic in him. Instead it grew until he could no longer ignore it.
“The firelight,” he gasped, shame rearing up that his fear was so beyond his control.
Margery blinked, looking in hazy bewilderment from his still-clothed chest to his hands gently but firmly holding her own, and finally back to his face. She must have seen something in his carefully smoothed expression, however, for her gaze cleared in an instant, a look of understanding taking its place. “If you’re certain.”
He wasn’t; while she would not be able to see him well, it also meant he would be denied the glory of her unclothed. And it would be glorious. He softened—and hardened at the same time. To see Margery in all her splendor, each delectable inch of her bared to his gaze, would bring him untold pleasure.
But he couldn’t chance it. He just couldn’t.
“I’m certain,” he managed.
She nodded, immediately moving away to bank the fire. Regret crashed down on him at the loss of her, further compounded as the light dimmed to such a degree that he could barely make her out. But then she stood, and turned to face him. And the sight of her backlit by the faint orange glow of what was left of the once-roaring blaze effectively doused whatever portions of his brain were still in working order.
He lurched to his feet and strode the few feet to her, not caring if the sudden movement would bring him pain in the morning, knowing only he needed her more than breath in his lungs in that moment. Before she could react he caught her in his arms.
There was no holding back now. Their mouths clashed, teeth scraping, hands fumbling. He should perhaps worry that all intentions he might have had to be smooth and gentle had flown out the proverbial window. But all he could think of in that moment was how wondrous she felt under his hands. Her simple cotton nightgown left nothing to his imagination. And yet it was not enough.
An encroaching thought slunk into his addled mind in that moment that he would never have enough of her. Before it could take hold, however, she yanked her lips free and gasped, “The bed.”
There was much stumbling and lurching as they made their way across the room. But he would be damned if he would fetch his cane in that moment. It was bad enough he couldn’t sweep his arms beneath her and carry her in chivalrous fashion to the bed as he truly wished to. Regardless of how they got there, however, they finally did and collapsed onto the plush mattress in a heap of tangled limbs.
It was even darker here so far from the hearth, only the faintest light reaching them. Even so, pure instinct had him tensing as she once more reached for the hem of his shirt. But he didn’t stop her this time as she lifted it up and over his head. As her slender, quick fingers brushed against his lower belly to find the fall of his breeches, however, he couldn’t ignore the panic building in him. Once more he stayed her hand.
She paused. And then, her lips at his ear, she kissed his temple and whispered, “Trust me, Daniel.”
