“It’s true,” he insisted, falling to his knees before her. “A goddess stands before me, and I intend to worship her, though I’m unworthy to kiss her feet.”
His breath was hard to find as he reached for her, his hands sliding around the stocking encasing one elegant calf with care, afraid his coarse hands would snag the delicate material. His hands slid higher, over the back of her knee, over her thigh, until he found the garter tying it in place. She reached for the edge of her shift, raising it higher so he could see the garter was a bright cherry red.
His breath hitched in throat.
“Red?” he said in surprise, smiling up at her in delight.
“I had a choice,” she said, and he saw a glint of something mischievous in her eyes that made his heart race faster. “Green or yellow, or blue—to match the dress—or… red. I thought you would like these best.”
“Aye,” he said. “Ye thought right and I thank ye for it.”
He tugged the first one free, burning with the knowledge that Grace was nothing like Sarah. She enjoyed his desire for her and would encourage it. There was an earthy quality to her that he recognised, and which had survived her cold upbringing. She found no shame in her body, or in his, or the way they could find their pleasure together.
His heart soared.
Ned eased the stocking from her shapely leg and then bent to kiss her toes, smiling at the breath of laughter than escaped her as he did so.
“My own goddess,” he murmured as he kissed her feet as he’d promised to do.
Returning his attention to the remaining stocking, he discarded this one a little faster, and sat back to look up at her. Her hands still held the hem of her shift, exposing her thighs.
“Higher,” he said, swallowing as she understood at once and raised the shift to expose the dark gold curls that nestled between her thighs.
He was breathing hard now and wondering how long he could last before his body exploded with lust and wanting.
“If ye are wanting to have that bath, ye had best make haste,” he warned her, feeling something hot and primal melting the tenuous grip of his control, like wax over an open flame. “I’m not sure how much longer I can wait.”
Happiness bubbled up inside him as she flashed him an impish grin, tugged the chemise over her head and clutched her arms about her breasts to hide them from him as she turned, laughing and stepped into the steaming tub of water.
She could not hide her lovely backside, though, and Ned looked his fill at the way her sleek back tapered to the curve of waist and hips and the lush swell of her bottom. He had to clench his fists to stop himself from reaching out and grasping hold of the fullness revealed to him, but then she’d never get her bath, and she’d been cold all day. He’d not deny her the pleasure of a soak in hot water, no matter his impatience.
Ned forced himself to allow her a few moments privacy and took the time to strip off his own coat and waistcoat and remove his boots. When he turned back, clad in only his shirtsleeves and trousers, it was to find Grace watching him intently.
His cock, already hard, seemed to swell further under her scrutiny and the obvious interest he saw there. Her gaze was heated and it felt as if her hands were already on him, a touch he felt right to the marrow of his bones. He smiled helplessly at her. He was hers, heart and body and soul at her mercy, to do with as she pleased.
He loved her.
Ned wasn’t certain when it had happened, though he’d known from the first moment he’d seen her it was inevitable. What man could resist such a combination of sweetness and beauty? Not he. Not that he’d even tried to resist. He’d seen his fate and run towards it full tilt, caring for nothing else. There had been no point in guarding his heart. The poor thing had been living in the dark for so long that even the most fleeting glimpse of the brightness Grace brought to the world would have blinded it and left it dazed and overwhelmed.
He knelt by the tub and reached for the scented soap, lathering it between his palms before reaching for her hand. He washed her, increasingly breathless as his hands slid over her slick skin, up her arms and over her shoulders, her neck. She moved, leaning forward so he could wash her back and his hands swept down, following the elegant curve of her spine.
She sat back, anticipation in her eyes and he knew his hands trembled as he moved behind the tub and reached forward to run his soapy palms over her breasts. His breathing was ragged now as he cupped the full swells that filled his hands and felt the nipples harden beneath his thumbs.
Ned smothered a groan as he gently squeezed, and he heard her gasp. Grace closed her eyes, her head falling back against the edge of the tub as she arched into his touch.
“So beautiful,” he murmured, wishing he were more eloquent, wishing he were a gentleman with a fancy education who could recite poetry, or give her words worthy of everything he felt in this moment.
As it was, he worshipped her, hoping everything he felt could be expressed without words, for he had none to give her. He could barely breathe, let alone speak as his hand slid down beneath the water and sought the secret place between her legs, cupping her sex against his palm.
He watched her face, gazing down at her, alert for the slightest sign of distress or discomfort, but her lips parted on a sigh, her lovely skin flushing a deep pink as she eased her legs farther apart and lifted her hips, pressing herself against his hand.
Ned buried his face in her hair, clinging to the fragile threads of his control as his fingers slid through her curls and inside the tight heat of her body.
“Oh God,” he said, ragged now as he lifted his head and watched her as he touched her so intimately.
His free hand toyed with her breast as she sighed with approval, the whispered sound leaving him dazed with desire. The water undulated back and forth as she moved against his hand, unabashed as she took her pleasure and drove him wild with desire.
Her lips curved into a smile and she gasped, her body growing taut as tension simmered through her. She grasped at his arms and flung her head back as she came with a breathless cry that was almost enough to undo him completely. Ned leant down and captured her mouth, kissing her hard and deep, whilst he fought the urge to lift her from the tub and take her on the carpet like a madman. He felt mad, mad with lust and joy, out of control with the barrage of emotions he’d not felt in more than a decade, if he’d ever known them at all. He certainly could not remember a moment which more exquisitely combined the tormenting combination of love and desire and the need to possess, with the need to take care of and treat the woman before him with the utmost tenderness.
He held her, pressing kisses to her lips, her cheek, and the beautiful line of her neck as she came back to herself.
“How lovely,” she murmured, gazing up at him through the haze of pleasure that still filled her eyes. “Thank you.”
He laughed at that, helpless to do otherwise. “It was my pleasure,” he said gravely.
She sighed and smiled at him. “I’d best get out, so you might wash before the water gets cold.”
Ned almost opened his mouth to protest that he didn’t want a bloody wash, but thought better of it. He’d not want her thinking he’d not take the trouble for her, so he’d wash, even if the time it took to do so killed him. Was it possible to die from desire? It felt as if it might well be, as his arousal tented his trousers and fought to get free, to get to her.
It was the most delightful form of torture to dry her while his body ached and protested. It continued as he undressed before her, her hot gaze drifting over him as he stripped off first his shirt, and then his trousers and drawers.
Her eyes grew wide and dark, her lips parting a little as he stood before her.
“Oh, Ned,” she said, the words spoken with a breathless quality that made his cock leap with pride and desire.
He’d had offers enough from women, even after he’d been married. Offers he’d been too wary of accepting, his confidence too dented by Sarah to try again despite his lone
liness, but enough to know that he was well made and handsome enough to turn a woman’s head in his direction. It was nothing, though, nothing like having his wife’s gaze turn hot and sultry as she looked him over with obvious approval.
“You are very fine,” she said, her lovely mouth curving into a smile. “Indeed, I think I must do my wifely duty and help you with your bath.”
Ned’s mouth grew dry, and he found he couldn’t answer, though he wasn’t about to deny her if she wanted to wash him.
He stepped into the bath and sat down, though there was barely enough room for him to do so without hanging his legs over the outside of the tub. This he did, watching with a mixture of longing and trepidation as Grace knelt beside the bath. She took a moment to take the pins from her hair and he watched, entranced as the golden tresses fell to her shoulders before she moved towards him and lathered the soap between her hands.
Ned took a deep breath, very afraid he’d climax the moment she touched him.
He swallowed as she reached for him, lathering first the hair on his chest and working outwards over his arms. He squirmed and laughed as her delicate hands soaped beneath his armpits and she gave a whoop of delighted laughter to discover he was ticklish.
“Oh, that’s good to know,” she teased. “I shall take full advantage of that in the future.”
That mischievous glint lit her eyes again, making his heart squeeze in his chest at how easy this was with her. He’d never imagined he might find such a wife, a woman with a tender heart and a sweet nature, who would not only welcome him into her bed but make him laugh, and laugh with him.
“Gracie,” he murmured and reached for her, pulling her to him for a kiss.
Chapter 10
“Wherein the bliss of a shared night, and the reality of a shared future.”
Grace was enraptured by her big, beautiful husband. She’d guessed he was a well-made man. No amount of winter clothing could disguise the broad shoulders and powerful arms and the long, strong legs. Guessing and knowing were two very different things, however, and when he’d stood before her, naked and aroused, she’d feared her legs might buckle.
She put her hands on his massive chest, the thick quilting of muscle twitching beneath her fingertips as she soaped his skin, and the liquid heat that had overwhelmed her as he’d pleasured her in the bath rose within her again. The place between her legs was hot and aching and empty, clamouring for him to make her his, demanding with such ferocity it was all she could do to concentrate on the job at hand. Yet she wanted to explore him, and to treat him with the care and tenderness he’d shown her.
It was difficult to take her time, so very difficult when she was eager to touch and discover. His chest was rising and falling with growing speed as she followed the intriguing line of dark hair down his taut abdomen. He shifted, restless beneath her touch, and she looked up to find his dark eyes glittering. If she’d not known in her heart that he was a gentle soul who would rather die than hurt her, that look might have given her pause. It was a little wild, something primitive and urgent glinting there that made her own heart thud harder still, and the throb between her legs kept time with it, pulsing with need.
She slid her hand beneath the waterline, and he groaned, deep and low, as she found what she sought and curled her fingers about him. He was hot, so hot and so hard, so large she trembled at the idea of him inside her, even as her eager body thrummed with exhilaration and impatience.
“Oh, God, Gracie,” he said, and she felt the power of the body that quivered beneath her hands, felt instinctively the tremendous force of will holding him still, allowing her to touch him as she wished.
She wanted at once, and with a desperate desire, to see that control shatter for her. Guided by memories of what she’d seen in the stable all those months ago, and an innate knowledge of what seemed right, she slid her hand down the hard length of him and up again.
His long fingers curled on the edges of the bathtub, clutching so tight his knuckles went white. Grace did it again and saw the muscles in his arms bulge, his huge shoulders set in a rigid line. She thought perhaps he was holding his breath.
Grace decided this was a good sign and carried on, picking up speed and watching with fascination as her husband’s big body trembled and he sweated and gasped and, at last, he shattered. His cry of pleasure was harsh and guttural as his large frame bowed and shuddered helplessly, sending a visceral thrill of desire burning through her like a flame catching dry tinder.
She let go of him and sat back, staring, a little overwhelmed by what she’d done to him. He was very still for a moment, breathing as if he’d run for miles, and then he laughed.
Grace felt an answering smile tug at her own mouth as he turned to look at her.
“Aye,” he said, his tone wry. “Ye might well look smug, ye little devil. Now ye know as well as I do, ye have only to crook ye little finger and I’m at yer mercy.”
She did smile then, and she didn’t doubt she looked smug indeed, smug and happy.
He stood then, the water sliding from him and making him look like Poseidon rising from the sea. Her mouth opened with wonder at the sight. He truly was magnificent.
She watched as he made short work of washing the parts of him she’d missed, and then he stepped out of the bath. He snatched up a towel and gave himself a perfunctory wipe down with it before flinging it to one side and advancing on her with a wicked glint in his eyes.
“Turnabout is fair play, Gracie,” he said, a warning note to the words.
“B-But that was m-my turnabout,” she protested.
Not that she cared—she was more than happy to let him have another turn—but it was a game, and she sensed it would delight him to have her tease him. So she darted away, giggling and letting the towel fall to the ground when he lunged towards her.
The room was small, and he was large, and she didn’t really want to evade him, so it was a matter of moments before he caught her and swept her up. Grace threw her arms about his neck and kissed him, still smiling as her lips touched his and he carried her to the bed.
He laid her down and settled beside her, gazing at her in such a way that Grace felt every inch the goddess he’d compared her to.
“My beautiful wife,” he murmured, such reverence in his tone that Grace wondered if it were possible she could fill the void his first wife had left after all. She hoped so, with all her heart, for she had fallen irrevocably in love with her husband.
His hands moved over her, his rough palms gentle and warm.
Grace sighed. “I love your hands,” she said, covering the one which cupped her breast. “I’ve dreamed of having your big hands on me.”
Surprise lit his eyes and she knew she’d pleased him. “I worried they were too rough. You’re like silk, Gracie, so delicate. I worried they’d damage your fine skin.”
She laughed at that. “Foolish man, I’m all a-tremble for your hands. They’re just the right amount of rough, and….” She shivered as his hand slid over her belly. “Quite delicious.”
His gaze was intent as his hand moved lower still, until he found the place which clamoured for him. Grace shivered with pleasure as his hand slid between her legs and watched his face as she heard his sharp intake of breath.
“Do ye need me here?” he asked, his voice almost a growl.
Grace gasped as he slid one finger inside her, arching and opening to him, to his touch.
“Oh, wicked man, that’s—”
The finger slid back and forth and stole her reason.
He bent and nuzzled her breast, moaning quietly. “Ye do want me,” he said, the words full of masculine pride and tinged with awe. “Ye need me here, ye need me badly, don’t ye?”
It was difficult to form an answer as her brain had ceased to function, only her body responded now, though the words were dragged from some dim part of her mind through the thick fog of desire.
“Yes, yes,” she said. “Yes, please.”
“Hmmm,” he said,
the sound a rumble that thrummed through his chest and into her.
He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her stomach, swirling his tongue around her navel as she squirmed beneath him.
“Ah-ha,” he said, amusement lighting his dark eyes as he raised his head. “Ticklish?”
“N-No,” she protested, and then squealed as he did it again, wriggling his tongue into her naval until she shrieked and gave in. “Yes, yes,” she admitted. “I am.”
Ned chuckled, his breath huffing against her skin and setting her to shivering again. The sensation began inside her too, her body quivering inside and out as his mouth trailed hot kisses over her, easing down farther down his tongue painting a line down the juncture of her thigh. He moved down the bed, spreading her legs wide and bending his large frame to the task. Grace clutched at the bedclothes beneath her, tension singing through her until he parted the delicate folds of her private flesh and swept over her with his tongue.
She made a sound, so wanton and so loud she could hardly believe it. For a moment she stilled, wondering if she’d shocked him, but then she heard a huff of amusement, the little breath of air against her oversensitive skin enough to make her whimper.
“Like that, did ye?” he murmured. “Let’s see what else pleases my lady.”
It seemed a great deal pleased her as his clever tongue sent her spiralling into that giddy, wonderful place where her body was nothing but sensation and she knew only pleasure. She climaxed with a ferocious cry, her fingers clutching at his hair as waves of intense joy rippled through her.
She looked up, incoherent and dazed still to discover Ned moving over her, taking his place between her legs.
“I can’t wait any longer, love,” he said, sounding almost apologetic.
Grace thought that rather funny and laughed a little as she slid her arms around him, her legs sliding over the backs of his as she lifted her hips to him.
“Me either,” she managed, before his mouth covered hers and he was pushing inside her.
Once Upon a Christmas Wedding Page 40
