I felt my pale skin flashing in anticipation as we peeled away the layers of each others’ clothing, our eyes locked and burnishing, that now-familiar heat building intensely between us, as the shadows flickered all around us.
It was James who finally closed the distance between us with a single confident step, and it felt so right to me, this moment: our shared nakedness, our beating hearts, our shivering silence ...
I trembled as he kissed me, his lips so soft against my own, his tongue slipping into my mouth, and his hands moving through the chestnut locks of my hair, my own fingertips grazing his body, stroking his broad back, my nails raking against his skin, my body shuddering as his fingers slipped between my legs, discovering the heat and wetness of my womanhood
Oh, I felt as if I were melting beneath his touch; my body yearned for him so completely.
And that evening, reader, it seemed as if all that existed in our hearts was tenderness – for tonight there would be no punishment, only reverence.
He lifted me so easily in his arms and laid me gently upon the bed as if I were the most precious cargo in the world, his body covering my own so completely, his lips dancing lightly against my collarbone, his hands cupping my bosom, his manhood brushing the inside of my thigh as I parted my legs wide for him.
We had still not uttered a word — our bodies speaking to each other in a much more primal language, now — and it took but moments before they had fused together as one, his hot thickness pushing deep inside me, as my hands cupped his muscular rump, urging him ever deeper.
His mouth moved to my breasts, his tongue encircling my stiffening buds, and I felt his pace quicken as he drove us both closer to the very edge of sensation with each new thrust of his hips.
As my pleasure built inside me, so too did the urge to speak, to utter the words I had been holding back for so long.
I held his head tightly between my hands, searching out his eyes with my own as I spoke the words that finally broke our silence: “Darling James, my husband, I love you.”
A moment later, I cried out as the pleasure overtook my body completely, strong enough to shatter me into a thousand tiny pieces, and it seemed as if my moans and cries sent James tumbling over the precipice of delight too, for with a final urgent thrust of his hips, he gasped then threw back his head as he filled me with his warmth.
Afterwards, as we lay upon the sheets together, our bodies still joined, James turned and drew me close in a tender embrace, brushing a lock of hair tenderly from my face as his eyes sought out my own.
“Oh Amelia,” he whispered, “I hope you realise that I too love you. For each day, I thank my lucky stars that you are my wife, and I look forward to all the many pleasures that lay ahead of us. Fate has brought us together, but our love shall ensure many happy times in the years to come. I wish for Sandwell Hall always to be filled with joy and laughter.”
“And the occasional quiet moment, too?” I teased.
“Yes,” he murmured. “I know that we both treasure our time alone, for reflection and contemplation. And I know how lucky I am to have a wife that understands this.”
“Oh James,” I replied sincerely. “I feel as if I understand you now as well as myself!”
“I do believe we are kindred spirits,” he laughed in reply.
And I laughed too, knowing for certain that no truer words had come from his lips.
About the Author
Victoria Whitlock lives in the beautiful Lake District countryside in England. Her writing is inspired by the beautiful countryside and history she sees all around her. She loves visiting country houses and imagining her very own Lord Hartford ...
To be the first to know when Victoria publishes her next novel, be sure to drop her a line at [email protected] and she’ll make sure to add you to her mailing list.
Awakened by a Lord: Victorian Nights Page 10
