Once Upon a Maiden Lane (Maiden Lane #12.5)(38)

He scowled, but stood obediently and began to throw off his clothes at an alarming pace. Mary thought she could hear seams ripping, and then he was in only his smalls.

She inhaled as he paused. Her husband had broad, muscled shoulders. Black hair curled between his nipples, and below his navel a line of fine hair led into the waistband of his smalls. A heavy weight tented the fine fabric there.

He was gorgeous.

He locked gazes with her and slowly unbuttoned his smallclothes.

She held her breath, dropping her eyes to watch as more and more was revealed. She saw the black thicket of curls and then his penis, big and hard and standing proudly erect.

Oh. Oh, it was bigger than she’d expected, which should alarm her, she knew, but all she felt was a curl of heat low in her belly.

Henry dropped his smalls and kicked them aside. Then he climbed into the bed with her. “All right?”

“Y-yes,” she replied, stuttering not from fear but from something else. His mere presence was making her tremble, it seemed.

His smile had a hard edge as he bent over her on all fours and kissed her gently on the mouth. “May I take off your chemise?”

She could only nod, closing her eyes in sudden and ill-timed shyness.

She raised her arms, sitting up a bit, and felt the delicate cloth brush her arms, her breasts, and her face as it was lifted from her.

There was silence.

Finally she opened her eyes and looked at him.

He was staring at her with a dark look in his eyes, his mouth unsmiling, the chemise still clenched in one fist. “Oh, Lady Blackwell, I am indeed a fortunate man.”

He tossed aside the chemise and knelt down over her, placing his mouth on her nipple.

He sucked and her back arched. She’d never thought that one little point should provide such pleasure.

She took his face between her palms, not knowing if she wanted to draw him closer or push him away, but he lifted his head.

“Your breasts are perfect,” he whispered. “Lush and sweet and beautiful beyond the telling of it.”

Her eyes widened, but before she could respond he’d moved to her other nipple.

It was…

Well, she was certainly glad he seemed to be enjoying this, too.

Her legs moved restlessly as he suckled one nipple and flicked his thumbnail over the other one.

It made her…

Oh, it made her so hot. She yearned.

“Henry,” she groaned. “Please. Please.”

But instead of coming to her, he moved downward, scattering kisses across her belly.

“Open for me, darling,” he murmured when he came to her maiden hair.

She parted her thighs, anxiously anticipating what he would do next.

“You’re wet for me,” he said, touching her there with his finger.

She gasped. His touch was light, but it was so intimate. So blunt.

“Are you ready for me?” he breathed across her wet flesh.

“Yes,” she cried, pulling at his shoulders. “Yes, yes, now.”

He lunged up her, placing one hand beside her shoulder. The other was down there between them.

“Spread your legs,” he whispered. “Wider. Wider.”

She did, exposing herself completely. But that was all right.

This was Henry. She wanted to be as close to him as possible.

She felt him brush against her and then a firm nudge.

She looked up at him, staring into his blue, blue eyes as he widened her impossibly.

“I’m joining with you,” he said softly. “I’m entering you, my wife.”

She’d heard tales of pain. Of blood, even. But aside from a small pinch, she felt no pain.

But the pressure, the weight of him, bearing down on her.

In her.

That, that she hadn’t been prepared for.

It was wonderful, somehow, holding him cradled between her legs, letting him see and feel all of her.

He came to rest finally, thick and lodged within her, and Henry took a breath, sounding a little strained. “All right?”

“Yes,” she said, stroking his side, running her fingers to his bottom, so firm and nice.

He closed his eyes for a second, then opened them. “I love you.”

Her eyes widened.

And then he moved.

Drawing his hard penis out of her before thrusting back in.

It felt…

She watched him as he did it again. His face was solemn, his lips slightly twisted.

He looked as if he might be in pain.

Except he wasn’t.

He shut his eyes again. “God, Mary, your eyes.”

Then he bent and opened his mouth over hers, and she stopped thinking.

He kissed her as if he drew life from her lips.

As if he would die if he ever stopped.

She clutched at him. At his buttocks and his shoulder. Moving her hips up to meet his descent. Spreading her legs even wider.

Feeling the jolt when he rubbed her just there.

Sweat slicked his back, hot and real, and he moved faster now, his hips thumping into hers.

She felt the tension build, felt his penis thrust in and out of her, felt her body coil tight.

He hitched his hips and made a swiveling motion on her and stars exploded behind her eyelids, white and sudden, hot and bright, shattering her.

She gasped into his mouth as he kept kissing her, his tongue claiming her, his lips rough and hard.