Page 29 of Counting on a Countess
It hadn’t felt bad, just different. She’d touched her own breasts before and knew they could give her pleasure. Clearly, men liked them, too, because they were often the sought-after prize the few times she’d kissed lads. But they had pawed at her like trying to catch fish with their bare hands. Not exactly delightful.
“Let’s start slowly,” he offered, plucking her glass from her hand and putting it beside his own.
She struggled for calm. “How?”
“With a kiss,” he answered.
Chapter 8
Kit slowly moved his hand to cup the back of Tamsyn’s head. Her pupils were huge, her breath shallow, and her body tense as an iron beam. He’d never kissed a skittish woman before, and now here he was on hiswedding night,trying to guide a virgin into bed.
Damn and hell, he wanted her. The ferocity of his desire was shocking. She was both bold and innocent, and the combination inflamed him. He could look for hours at the juncture where her neck met her shoulder, while he ached to learn the feel of her and taste her again.
In every way, this was far beyond his usual experiences with women. Yet none of them mattered at this moment.
There was desire and something more. Though he didn’t know Tamsyn very well, what he’d learned of her he genuinely liked. Hurting her, or making her do anything she didn’t want to do, never entered his mind. He truly wanted to make this good for her. Perhaps that desire was selfish. Having a wife who was unenthusiastic about lovemaking made everyone’s life difficult and disagreeable. But if he could teach her that sex was, in fact, one of the greatest pleasures that existed—everyone benefitted.
“Easy,” he murmured, gentling her as her breathing accelerated. “It’s nothing but a kiss.”
“We’ve kissed before,” she whispered.
“Did you like it?”
She nodded.
“Now shouldn’t be any different,” he said.
“It shouldn’t,” she agreed. She glanced at him with trepidation. “But...”
“It does feel different,” he deduced.
Another nod.
“Don’t think about where it leads,” he said gently. “All that matters is this moment.”
Slowly, he lowered his head and brushed his lips over hers. Ah, she was soft and lush. Her skin smelled of warm flowers.
He softly stroked the curve where her head met her neck. Her abundant silky hair spread over his palm, and at his touch, she drew in a breath. As though gaining strength.
He pressed his lips more firmly to hers. At first, she held herself still, but then she stirred, kissing him back with growing confidence. Taking a chance, he parted his lips slightly and stroked her with the tip of his tongue. She tasted faintly of wine and a hint of sugar. Tentatively, her tongue touched his.
God knew he’d had far more deliberately carnal kisses than this. Yet his blood roared in his ears and his groin tightened in reaction. This was new for her. She was discovering herself, and that made her response all the more potent.
“There,” he purred. “That’s my girl. Give me a little—just a little.”
He took the kiss deeper, his tongue now caressing hers, their mouths opening. She made a soft, low sound of pleasure. The honesty of her response inflamed him far more than any practiced kiss. She was finding her path, learning the ways of her desires. It was a humbling, wonderful sensation to be the man lucky enough to partner her in this exploration.
He brought his hand up to rest at the curve of her waist where her warmth seeped into him. As he caressed her, she exhaled again and made more noises of pleasure.
She angled her body toward his. It was a silent demand for more.
Yes, he thought.Yes.
With a leisurely pace, he eased his hand up and up over her rib cage. Then higher, until he cupped the full, velvet weight of her breast.
She pulled away abruptly. Her eyes had gone wide, and she wore the expression of one who’d misjudged the distance to jump from one side of a chasm to the other.
Kit struggled for breath, shocked by his own reaction to hardly any touching at all. The artlessness of the desire she’d shown—its complete candor—shook him. He was hard as a pike, his body primed for more.
