The Regency Season Collection: Part One. Кэрол Мортимер
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Was something wrong? Why was he looking at her like that? It was her figure, that was it. She was no longer fresh and young and virginal... Just when she could not stand the suspense any longer he bent his head and licked, lavishly, slowly, over her right nipple. And then the left. And back. They went hard and tight and he caught first one, then the other in his teeth and Julia sobbed, arching again, wanting more. He increased the pressure until it was a tiny stab of pain that arrowed into her belly and became something else entirely: heat and weight and need. Then he licked again while his hand took hold of the torn edge of her nightgown and yanked down hard and it tore as far as her knees.
Now he would cover her with his body, push her legs apart, take her. She fought a silent battle with the memories and the fear. It had hurt and Jonathan had not been careful. And Will was very aroused, she knew enough to understand that. Julia tried not to let her apprehension show, tried not to freeze.
But Will kept on tormenting her breasts as he stroked down into the brown curls that were embarrassingly damp. Wet, she thought, shocked, as his fingers parted her and then she forgot to be self-conscious as the strange deep ache got worse and worse and she twisted, pushing up against the heel of his hand.
Am I supposed to feel like this? It was so much more than when she had lost her virginity. Then she had felt a little of this, but not the all-consuming desperate need for something. ‘I want you inside me,’ she gasped, beyond shame. That must be it, that was what her body was clamouring for.
‘Patience,’ Will said and blew on her nipples while his fingers played and teased and suddenly found a point of perfect, shocking pleasure.
‘Will.’
He came to his knees, freed her completely from the nightgown and finally, finally, covered her with his body. But his fingers did not stop their torment and everything was tightening into an impossibly tangled knot and she did not know how she could bear it.
‘Julia. Look at me.’ Will’s voice was husky and she dragged open her eyes and stared into the amber heat of his. ‘Are you all right?’
‘No! No, I’m not...I can’t bear it. Please...’ She had no idea what she wanted, only that she needed him inside her and his weight on her and his mouth on hers. And by some miracle he understood her incoherent plea. He lowered himself, speared his fingers into her hair, drove with his hips and filled her in one long, hard thrust. Everything unravelled, broke apart as she heard herself scream, felt her body close, tight, on Will as he moved and then he froze, shuddered under her clutching hands and collapsed on to her body.
* * *
Selfish bastard, Will thought as his brain stopped spinning. He lay pillowed on Julia’s sweet warmth and contemplated her lover, the one she had eloped with, the one who had not, apparently, thought to give her any pleasure at all while he took what he wanted.
She had been as ignorant of what her own body could experience as a virgin. He smiled into the crook of her neck and lipped gently at the warm skin. Her arms were still around him and he became aware of the gentle movement of her fingers. She was stroking his shoulders lightly, as if exploring, like someone blind reaching out to map their world with their fingertips.
Had she any idea how seductive that innocence was? How sensual and responsive he found her? Of course not. Which was a very good thing, he decided, as he reached out a hand and pulled the covers over them. If she had any idea, then she would use it against him, use her feminine power to try to weaken and undermine him. It was bad enough having her fight him for control of every aspect of the estate without her deciding she could seduce him into letting her carry on being master here. Not that it would work.
Still, it was a pleasure how she had reacted to him. And fortunate, because after all those long months of celibacy he found it a miracle he had held out against his climax as long as he had. The next time—which had better be soon, he thought with a wry grin—would be even better. He was looking forward to teaching Julia the arts of love.
His harsh words when he had accused her of being another man’s mistress, of lying about her lack of experience, came back to deliver a sharp jab to his conscience. Her story had obviously been true and he must make that up to her. If only he did not have this nagging instinct that she was still not being completely honest with him.
God, this is comfortable. I must be squashing her. He rolled off the soft fragrant body cushioning his so uncomplainingly and gathered her into his arms. She came with a little sigh, snuggled up against his chest and went quite limp. Asleep. It was endearingly trustful, the way she simply let go, just as she had on that strange wedding night so long ago. He should slide out of bed now, let her rest, go back to his own chamber. In a minute...
* * *
Her right arm had gone to sleep and there was a warm draught in her ear which tickled, but was oddly pleasant. And a strange beat under her ear. In fact, the pillow was rather harder than feathers and was not a pillow at all.
Julia blinked her eyes open and found she was wrapped in Will’s arms, her cheek on his chest. He was asleep, breathing into her ear. And neither of them was wearing a stitch.
It was tempting to press her lips to his skin. She could smell the faint muskiness of sex and sleep and warm man and the nipple close to her mouth was puckered and hard, perhaps from her breath.
But if she did kiss him, then he would know how much she wanted him and she would only demonstrate all over again how inexperienced she was. She needed to think and she couldn’t do it here with her body distracted by Will’s closeness. He had not hurt her even though he had been so strong, so forceful. She could not quite believe it.
Her dreams had been as bad as always, the wisps of them still hung around her mind like dirty fog. The dream where she was running away on feet that were raw with blisters, the dream where she was so mired in guilt she could not move, the dream where they told her that her child was not breathing... But the waking memories were amazing. Would it always be like this?
Julia slid out of bed, held her breath until she could lower his arm to the mattress, and got to her feet. She would just tiptoe into the dressing room, put on her habit...
‘Good morning.’
She turned to find Will regarding her with sleepy appreciation. There was nothing to wrap herself in. ‘Good morning.’ Julia began to back towards the door.
‘Where are you going?’
‘Riding. I wanted the, er, exercise.’
One eyebrow lifted in mocking disbelief.
‘And the fresh air.’
‘Open a window wider for the air and come back to bed for the exercise.’
‘But I wanted to ride.’ I need to escape before you realise that you only have to touch me and I turn into melted butter. If you don’t know that already.
Will flipped back the sheet and lay back. ‘Come here and I’ll teach you to ride astride.’
There was absolutely no mistaking his meaning. Julia could feel the blush spreading from her toe-tips to her cheeks. She wanted to flee, she wanted to run to him. She tried to look