All About Seduction(107)
“I thought you were brave.” And foolish to be so demanding with Mr. Broadhurst, but the man had turned around and helped her down. At the same time, the exchange sparked something in him.
Jack crutched the remaining distance and leaned his crutches between the bed and the nightstand. Caroline had already put the lid on the crock and placed it on the far bed table. Using the post, he started the awkward struggle to get on the bed.
He wanted to show her the world, to be one together, to simply share the wonder that could happen between a man and a woman. She wanted a baby.
But he had made progress, and there would be tomorrow night, and the night after, because he sure as hell wasn’t going to make it to his appointment in London without any money.
He succeeded in getting his backside on the edge of the bed, and from there he used his good leg to push back. He almost groaned from the effort it took. How in heaven’s name could he expect her to desire a man who was lame? “Tasks will get easier as I figure them out.”
“I have no doubt you will achieve anything you put your mind to,” she said softly.
He wasn’t sure she was talking about everyday tasks challenging him or if she meant in a larger sense. But he couldn’t keep her interest focused. He didn’t feel capable of much.
He pushed his drawers off and moved to the center of the space, pulling the sheets and coverlet over his lower half. He turned toward Caroline, who stood beside the bed, gnawing on her lip.
Her hesitation stirred hope.
He lowered himself to his elbows, all the while watching her face. “Caro, if you are ready to release me from the conditions of our bargain, you have only to say the word.”
She didn’t, though. Her shoulders lifted toward her ears.
“Or not,” he added softly, trying not to be disappointed.
“It is late, and you are tired.” She stepped onto the rail and then put a knee on the bed. She made climbing in look easy. She knelt beside him, her knees brushing his hip.
Her forehead crinkled in a worry pattern and her eyes darted to him, down to his body, and then away.
He supposed it was to be the businesslike affair she wanted. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t think of the taste of her lips, or the sweet yielding of her mouth. Next time he wouldn’t give her time to think. Next time, when he sensed her resistance waning, he would press his advantage. In spite of his failure to lure her into a more equal pairing tonight, anticipation tingled in him.
Sidling closer, she put her hands on his chest. His skin leaped. Her eyes widened as if his response surprised her.
“I love when you touch me, Caro.”
Her gaze jerked to his. Offering silent encouragement and reassurance, he met her wide blue eyes. Then she shuttered her lashes and turned her attention to where she was touching him. She lowered her bum to her heels and traced the lines of delineation on his chest.
Her cool fingers slipped lower and his abdomen quivered under her touch. She splayed one hand and slid it down. His heart raced as her palm caressed his length. Then she curled her hand around his member and rubbed. Desire pounded in him. He watched her slender fingers as she stroked his length. Her hands were white and so soft, the hands of a lady—on him.
His breathing quickly grew ragged and urgency burned through him. Yet, he wouldn’t stop this sweet stimulation for the world.
Her lips parted. Her chest rose and fell rapidly. Had he been going about this wrong? Was the best path to awakening her desires to show her how aroused she could make him? Certainly his partner’s pleasure always served to send him to new heights.
Yet, he couldn’t ever remember wanting a woman so badly or wanting her to feel pleasure worse than he wanted his own release. Having her and feeling she was holding herself apart was driving him insane.
She drew her hand away and shifted back onto her knees. Bunching her nightgown with its ragged bottom edge at mid thigh, she hesitated. Her nostrils flared and her lips pressed together as if she were gathering her resolve to press on. As she had earlier, she seemed more like she wanted to bolt than to join with him.
He had to remember not hurting was the oddity to her. He tilted his head back and stared at the canopy. He didn’t want to rush her, but his need for her was making him ache. Waiting for her to join them together had to be one of the hardest things he’d ever done.
“You know, I would never intentionally hurt you.” He couldn’t even say he wouldn’t hurt her, because he had last night. He’d made her sore and swollen. And tonight he couldn’t be sure that the honeymoon ointment would be enough. It was soothing, but not a miracle cream.