Lady Griffith's Second Chance

Chapter Fourteen

There was no reason whatsoever for Regan to be nervous. She had been with Thomas once already, only hours before. And yet as she kissed him, as the shadow of his bed loomed behind them, she could not help but feel a frisson of timidity.

In the library, in the conservatory... both of those times had been ruled by the fear that they would be discovered in the act. But now, they had privacy. No one would be coming in to disturb them. Regan knew she had several hours, at least, before the maids would begin their rounds, lighting fires and cleaning out chamber pots as the first light of dawn set fire to the horizon.

For tonight...

Her own words rang in her ears. It did not have to be more than this. She could have these few moments of pleasure, enjoy this awakening, this reminder that she was still a desirable woman, one with ample desires of her own. And when the house party was over, she would return to Kent with her daughter, and she would never-

No. No, she would not think that far ahead.

For now, for tonight, she would keep the rest of the world at bay.

"Regan." The way he said her name, as if it were a holy word, spoken only in whispers, only in church. Yet the sensations his touch created were by no means something she thought should be associated with the services of a Sunday morning. He held out his hand to her. She looked at his fingers, at the deep lines etched across his palm.

His skin was warm beneath her touch. She worried that her own hands were slick with perspiration, but if he noticed, he made no sign of it. Standing so close to him, without the fear of being discovered, she could appreciate how tall he was, even in his bare feet, or how well his shoulders filled out the soft lines of his shirt, without the benefit of his outer clothes to lend him artificial breadth.

Her hands found their way to his chest, her thumbs just grazing the open collar of his shirt. She wanted to kiss him there. Instead she tugged on the fabric, dragging the last of its hem out from where it was still tucked into his trousers.

"Hm." The sound escaped her before she could stop it. Her hands trembled as she released his shirt, and she stilled them by placing them again on his chest. Eyes closed, she drew in a deep breath and released it slowly through parted lips. She was not a young woman. She was not a virgin. This was not even the first time she had been with Thomas. And yet she could not stop herself from hesitating.

"What is it?"

She looked up at him at his question. How could she explain what she was feeling? She had made a choice to come to his room tonight, all the while knowing what it would lead to. But hadn't that been her intention? She simply needed to admit it to herself, that in the end, she wanted to be with him. In his bed. Tonight.

"I want to undress you." The words were spoken before she could think over them, before she could take them back. She braced herself for a twinge of regret or embarrassment, but neither of them came.

His reaction was subtle, a lift of his chin, a slight flare of his nostrils as he breathed in deeply, but nothing more. The inside of her cheek held between her teeth, she tugged at the hem of his shirt, gently at first, before she pulled it up and up and over his arms and off of him.

She took him in. The shape of him, the leanness of him, the tapering of his torso down to his waist and hips. The dusting of dark hair across his chest that arrowed down towards his navel and further down...

The fabric of his shirt still carried his warmth. She did not want to let it go, did not want to put it down, instead holding it in front of her, bundled between her hands, her fingers tracing one finely stitched edge.