Page 90 of His Spirited Lady
“I have it managed, Rose.” His deep voice soaked through Amelia. “Thank you.”
The maid might have giggled as she slipped out the door that led to Amelia’s sitting room.
“Where were we?” Richard asked as he untied her laces.
Amelia tangled her fingers in his hair and dragged his lips to hers. “Here, I believe.” She kissed him the way he’d taught her, her heart swelling as he groaned his approval.
The laces loose, the gown slipped from her shoulders. Her corset followed, and then her chemise, until she was naked in a pile of clothes, like Venus coming out of the sea. She’d seen that painting in Rome and thought—
She couldn’t remember what she thought, because her husband was staring at her like she was the painting, his lips slack and his eyes bright. His fingers were a soft brush, like he was the artist himself.
Amelia wanted to see him the same way. Stepping close, she slid her fingers under his jacket and up to his shoulder. Her touch broke the spell, and he shrugged free of the garment. The tint to his cheeks might have been a blush.
“I’ve never forgotten to get undressed before,” he murmured as she undid the knot in his cravat. He undid his waistcoat as she pulled the cloth from his neck.
This time when he kissed her, she curved her hand around his warm, strong neck. His jaw was heavy against her thumb, and the skin under his hair was velvet against her fingertips.
He walked her backward to the bed until her knees hit the mattress. The sheets were cool against her bare bottom as she sat, but the shiver had everything to do with watching the man across from her rid himself of his boots, then his shirt, and finally his trousers.
Richard was magnificent. Long muscles flexed as he joined her on the bed, pushing her backward until his chest hair teased her breasts, his large bare feet against hers as his knee nudged her legs open.
But it was his mouth that stole her breath as he claimed a nipple and sucked it until she was arching into him, like in London on a night that seemed a lifetime ago.
“Put your hands on me,mon amour,” he whispered as his hands slid down her body.
Amelia was happy to follow his lead, reveling in the play of his back muscles under her hands as his mouth reclaimed her nipple and his hand found the other. Heat pooled as though she were melting in the sunshine.
It wasn’t enough. She writhed against him, trying to get closer. Richard rewarded her by dragging one hand down her body and slipping it between them. His fingers stroked her as they had once before. Just like then, her body shimmered to life, drawing her muscles tight as her shoulders bore into the mattress and her toes curled against his knotted calves.
And then his body was where his hands had been, and her legs were around his hips, making it easier for him. “Look at me, Amelia.”
It was difficult to open her eyes because he was still stroking the spot that sent stars across her vision. Her reward was watching his eyes darken as he slid inside her, uniting them in a way she’d never considered possible. It brought tears to her eyes.
Richard stopped. “Am I hurting you?”
Amelia shook her head. His stubbly jaw scratched her thumb. “To think I might have missed this.”
His throat bobbed as he nodded. And then he was moving, withdrawing and returning, stoking the fire inside of her until it was unbearable, and then continuing until she was clinging to him, his shoulder solid against her teeth and his skin salty on her tongue. His neck trembled against her lips, and his hips flexed against her ankles. She wasn’t satisfied until he poured himself into her and quieted against her, his heart pounding against hers. Even then, when he tried to move away, she held him tight, her hands on his backside.
“I’ll crush you,” Richard whispered as he wrestled free. “And I have plans for many more nights like this.” He kissed her nose. “Years of them, in fact.”
The bed chilled when he left it, but the sight of him walking away reminded her of a tiger she’d seen at a zoological exhibit. He was all power and grace, her husband.
He returned with a basin and cloth.
“What’s this?” He moved a wrapped box from the bedside table to make room for the basin.
“It’s a wedding gift from me.” Amelia had forgotten it in her drive to get him naked. Now, after something so sensual, the gift seemed childish. “You don’t have to—”
Richard was already unwrapping it. “A book?” He flipped it open, the parchment pages shuffling against each other before thumping against the leather covers. “A diary?”
“I thought you could use it to write your stories with Simon. So you could remember them, and maybe tell them to—”Our children.She couldn’t bring herself to say the words. After what had just happened between them, her emotions were too close to the surface.
His lashes shaded his eyes for a moment, but when he looked at her, the blue was bright and glassy. It was like looking at a summer sky and seeing forever. “It’s a perfect gift, love. Thank you.”
He wrung the water from the cloth and smoothed it over her skin, cooling her outside and heating her insides once again. By the time he was finished, his shaft was erect. Amelia gave into her curiosity and closed her fingers around him.
“Oh God, yes,” Richard groaned as he curled his hand around hers and showed her how to stroke him. His head fell back while his hips flexed.
