Page 59 of Pride & Petticoats

“I suppose that is the point,” Charlotte muttered. Freddie kissed her hands again, then came down next to her, the warmth of her body flowing into him.

“You are beautiful,” he whispered into her ear, then took her earlobe gently between his teeth.

Charlotte sighed and snuggled closer.

“I want to look at you.” His hand skimmed down her breasts to her stomach as his mouth traced her earlobe. He felt her tremble as his hand flattened on her stomach and his fingers splayed, just touching the auburn curls at the juncture of her thighs. “And I want to touch you. All of you.” He slid his hand lower and was horrified to note that it was shaking.

“Are you nervous?” Charlotte asked, watching his trembling progress.

He couldn’t stop a low chuckle. “I believe I am supposed to ask you that question,” he answered.

“Oh,” she said. “I didn’t mean—”

“Shh,” he whispered, pulling her closer and coming up on his elbow to lean over her and kiss the tip of her nose. “I’m not nervous.” He ran his hand across her stomach, then over the curve of her hip, and Charlotte inhaled sharply. He silenced her with a long kiss, then drew back and said, “But I am at a loss. I’ve never done this before.”

Charlotte pulled back. “But I thought surely you—”

“That’s not what I meant,” Freddie answered her, kissing her cheek as his hand slid slowly into the curls below her stomach. Charlotte gasped breathlessly. “I meant I’ve never been with an innocent.”

“I see,” Charlotte whispered. He heard her swallow. “So in a way, I’ll be your first, too.”

He smiled, gazed up at her. “You like that idea, do you?”

She nodded. As Freddie’s fingers inched even lower, her eyes rounded. “I do, too.”

His fingers flicked over her, and she moaned softly, then thrust against him.

“But we have one small problem, Charlotte,” he murmured against her cheek, cupping her where she arched for him.

“Pr-problem?” she gasped.

“Yes,” he whispered. “I am going to have to hurt you. I would give you only pleasure if I could, but I’m afraid the first time will not be very enjoyable for you.” As he said this, his fingers crept against the lips of her womanhood. Gently he parted them and ran his fingers along her slick folds until he reached her hard nub. There he paused and glided over her, feeling her wetness increase.

Charlotte moaned loudly, apologized in a mortified tone, then went ahead and arched her hips even more as his fingers pressed against her. Clutching the bedsheets, she fought for control— alternately begging him and apologizing for her wantonness. “You must stop,” she gasped. “It’s not proper and—”

She moaned again as he slid down, spread her legs wider.

From between her legs, Freddie murmured, “Are you certain you want me to stop?” He entered her slick folds with two fingers, testing her readiness for him. Charlotte bit her lip and nodded violently. “If that is what you want, I will stop, but before you issue that order, wouldn’t you like to know what you’ll be missing?” His fingers slid along her sleek folds again, then he replaced his fingers with his tongue and Charlotte screamed.

Freddie took her response as an affirmative. He slid his tongue over her hard nub, flicking and sucking until Charlotte’s breathing was ragged. With his every movement, she was more his, was more swept away by passion.

“Still want me to stop?” he whispered, looking up at her. But she was too far gone to answer.

He rode the tide with her, holding her when it was over and she was breathing deeply. Her head was buried against his shoulder, and she whispered, “I don’t know what came over me. I didn’t mean to . . . yell quite so loudly.”

“Ah,” Freddie said, rising from his position on the pillow next to her. His arm rested lightly across her stomach and his hand was wrapped around the swell of her hip. “I gathered from your . . . pleas for me to continue, that you agreed with my judgment in the matter?”

“Oh, God,” Charlotte moaned and tried to turn away from him, but his hand tightened against her waist and he pulled her back.

“Yes, I think you called me that as well,” Freddie teased.

“Oh!” Charlotte tried to pull away again, but he held her so that the small of her back pressed tightly against him. “You are wretched! Let me out of this bed!”

“Not until I make you mine,” he murmured, lips grazing the back of her neck. He felt her stiffen, and he understood the reaction. He didn’t rightly know where the words came from, but he knew they issued from the depths of his soul.

“This was not part of our agreement.”

Freddie moved his hand to fondle her breast, and the nipple hardened at once. “I’m revising the agreement.” His hand slid from her breast down the length of her body to her thigh. “I intend to make you mine.”