Lady Match (Howertys #2.5)

Chapter 8b: Save Tonight (pt 2)

Leaning to the side, he grazed his palm over her breast, the combination of the light touch and the cool air making her nipple tighten into a tight bead. She bit her lower lip as he repeated the motion before he palmed her and massaged gently. When he rubbed her nipple with the pad of his thumb, she held back a moan, shocked by how his ministrations made another part of her ache for his touch. Holding back became impossible a moment later when he bent his head and took the nipple in his mouth, sucking and licking.

"James..." She moaned. Her body hot and feverish, she writhed underneath him, wanting more.

He lifted his head, but his hand remained cupped around her breast. "Do you want me to stop?"

She shook her head. It was already a lot more than she had ever experienced, but she wanted to see it through. The fire between them might singe her, but she was willing to take the risk. His wicked smile at her answer sent a spear of excitement through her, and as he bent his head to treat her other breast to the same, she hesitantly ran her hands down his powerful back, enjoying the feeling of muscles moving underneath her touch.

Sliding her hand down between them, she traced the muscles of his chest and stomach, following them down to the top of his breeches. In a moment of unexpected boldness, she pushed her hand lower, sliding over the hardness covered by the cloth of his breeches. He moaned against her skin as her inexperienced fingers traced his length. She bit her lower lip. He certainly felt larger than George.

He pulled back, out of her reach, and she actually felt a stab of disappointment. Looking down at her with a sweet grin, he pressed a quick kiss against her lips.

"Sorry, love, but I'm quite tightly wound tonight. I can't handle too much."

She blushed. "Oh."

Sliding his hands down along her sides, he hitched his thumbs under the nightgown and pulled it down. She lifted her hips to allow him to slide it off, then had to force herself not to use her hands to cover herself. Honestly, she must be the most prude widow ever. She didn't have to worry about it long as James returned to kiss her, chasing away any other thoughts. His large hand slid down her stomach, grazing the curls at the junction of her thighs before he gently caressed her legs. As of their own volition, her knees parted, and his fingers trailed gently across the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. A tingling sensation spread from his touch to the heated part of her that longed for his touch.

Was this how wanton women felt? Should she be ashamed? No one had ever affected her like this before, and both from the way her mother had spoken about it when telling her what to expect on her wedding night, and from her experiences with her late husband, she had the impression that it was not meant to be something enjoyable. Then why did she want this man so badly? Her body was yearning for his every touch, always wanting more.

When his hand covered her, caressing softly, she pulled away from his kiss and buried her face in his shoulder, shocked by how much pleasure the simple touch evoked. His hand stilled, uncertain.

"Are you all right?" he whispered, his hot breath fanning her ear.

She nodded jerkily, then had to grab hold of his shoulders as his hand and fingers began doing deliciously wicked things to her that brought the fire within to a roaring crescendo. Gently, he pushed a finger inside her, stroking her, building the tension even higher. When his thumb rubbed over a certain spot, she bit his shoulder to hold back a cry as the fire exploded, sending a wave of molten lava through her limbs, leaving her trembling. He held her in his arms as the wave receded, caressing her hair and kissing her temple.

"I—" She cleared her throat. "That was... I've never..."

"Never?" He sounded surprised. "Not even on your own?"