What the Duke Wants(68)
“Perhaps I can help.” Turning in his arms, she reached up, glanced up into his smoldering gaze and began to untie his cravat. The soft silk floated to the floor. Reaching up on her toes, she kissed his neck as she began to unbutton his white shirt after she removed his jacket. His pulse raced against her lips, his breathing far more unsteady than earlier.
Carlotta rejoiced in the knowledge that she was the one causing it.
Once his shirt was loosened she slid her hands over his warm chest, across the hardened planes until it fell to the floor along with his cravat and coat. With a wicked grin, one she didn’t know she possessed, she reached down to remove the last barriers between them. Biting her lip, she made quick work of the remaining clothing till she was free to do some exploring of her own.
Taking a step back, she followed his example earlier and walked in a slow circle, studying him, memorizing every hardened plane and every valley in the ‘V’ of his back. Never could she have imagined the magnificent appearance of a naked man. He was perfect, solid, strong and gazing at her as if there was no one else in the world. She stilled, not quite knowing what to do next.
She should have known that he’d take command.
He always did.
Without a word he swept her into his arms and laid her on the bed, covering her with his body as he kissed her deeply, his hands raking over her body in desperation
An emotion she was learning to appreciate.
He was so warm, setting her skin on fire every place his skin touched hers.
Which was everywhere.
It was delicious, it was overwhelming. It was perfect.
“I—Carlotta, I might… as in… the first time I might cause you some pain.”
“Pain?”
“Bloody hell… please tell me you know what I’m talking about,” he swore, his face a mask of determined passion.
“I trust you,” she whispered, closing her eyes and giving herself over to the feel of him.
“But—”
“I trust you, Charles. I love you, I’m quite mad with it, if you cannot already tell. There’s nothing I want more than for you to make me yours. In. Every. Way.”
“Carlotta.” He groaned and kissed her fiercely, as if a man starved.
Then he moved.
And everything Carlotta imagined about the intimacy of marriage was put to shame as she discovered what the physical act of love could do.
Her world rose.
It fell.
It shattered into a million pieces of light.
And never had she felt more whole. More loved.
It was the amazing feeling of being completed and realizing the missing piece she had always been missing was found in someone else. Not herself.
It was blissful, amazing and she had the whole experience to look forward to for the rest of her life.
Charles pulled her into the cocoon of his warmth as he lay beside her. His soft breath tickled her hair as she leaned against him and felt the rapid beating of his heart against her back, knowing hers was pounding just as hard.
“I love you,” she murmured against his arm as it curved around her, pulling her in tight.
“I love you.” He took in a breath, as if preparing to say something then thinking better of it.
“What were you going to say?” she asked, turning in his embrace to face him.
“I was going to say something then thought better of it.”
“Oh? Why?”
“Because I want nothing more than to live, to dwell in this perfect moment. Life happens, Carlotta, but when these perfect moments happen, you have to live in them, own them, commit them to memory so that you have them with you always.”
“When did you get so wise?”
“I have had the unfortunate necessity of learning from my mistakes.”
“Haven’t we all?”
“Perhaps, but I have quite a list of sins, my love.” He paused and raised an eyebrow. “What I was going to say was… never in all my life, my sordid, blasted and black past have I ever experienced what we completed this night, ever. Nor could I have ever imagined that love could feel like this. What I’m trying to say is that whatever my sins, that is one thing I can give you that I’ve given no one else. You have my heart. It’s never been given to another and in that, you are my first, my last and only.”
“Thank you,” she whispered and kissed his forehead, closing her eyes and doing just as he suggested; owning the moment, memorizing it. “I’ll guard it with my life. Guard mine too.”
“With my life.”
****
Good Lord, why weren’t there more children in the world?
So maybe it wasn’t the most romantic thought, it was still the first thought in Carlotta’s mind when she awoke, nestled in the shelter of her husband’s arms, with his very warm, very tempting skin on hers, and her memory all too vivid from their night of passion.
Yes, it was a strange thing that there were not thousands of babies born every day if that was how it came about.
Groggily he shifted so that the sheet covering her didn’t actually cover her any longer. For a split second, she thought about pulling it up.
For propriety sake.
And then realized she was being quite proper being undressed, naked, and languid.
Because she was married. Every warning flag of passion was now a white flag of surrender. It was intoxicating, it was freeing and it gave her imagination far too much to work with.