Page 32 of His Scandalous Lessons
He had no experience with virgins — not since he was one — but he ignored the need to take her hard and fast. That would come later, with time. They would have years ahead of them to learn different paces, their likes and dislikes.
Which parts of her body she liked to have nibbled.
Which she liked to have kissed.
Richard couldn’t wait. He clasped her hand and guided her to the bedroom in the cottage. He felt her shiver as he brought his lips to hers. Their kiss was soft, tentative. It was a beginning, an introduction, as if to grow accustomed to each other. Richard marveled at the taste of her, the perfection of how her body felt against his.
“Are you sure?” he whispered.
He wanted to give her the opportunity to say no. Every opportunity. He wanted her to know that if nothing else, she could trust him with this, that he would respect her wishes no matter what — here and in the future.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
Oh, thank god.
Richard finished unbuttoning her dress and it slid off her body to the floor. He began anew with her underthings, rewarding every new inch of skin with a kiss. How could he help but worship her with his lips? How could he resist? Her skin was smooth like velvet, and she smelled of roses, and she made small little noises in her throat that made his cock hard for her.
Better than dreams, he thought as she smiled up at him.Much better than dreams.
“My turn,” she told him.
Anne was not as gentle. She shoved his coat off, his waistcoat, and almost rendered his shirt apart in her haste. His soft laughter filled the room, stopping with a groan when she had her hands at his trousers. She tugged them down his hips and those, too, joined their pile of clothes.
When he was as naked as she was, she gazed at his body with a heat and ferocious need that he’d never seen before. And he wanted her just as badly. Every part of her. He wanted to be inside her.
“Beautiful,” she said to him as she pressed kisses to his chest. “You’re so beautiful.”
“There you go, stealing my lines again.”
“Tell me honest vocabulary,” she said, grazing her teeth across his throat. “Plain speak. Filthy words.”
“Here I thought ladies enjoyed poetry.”
“Poetry later.”
“Poetry later, then,” He kissed a path across her shoulder. “For now I’ll talk about how I’m going to set you down in that bed and lick your cunny until you scream my name.”
“Yes,” she gasped.
Richard gently pushed her onto the bed and kissed his way down her body. Then, just when he felt her tremble with need, he kissed her betwixt her thighs. She arched off the bed and said his name in a hoarse whisper. His name on her lips was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. It was a litany, a benediction. This bed was their altar, this bedroom their church, where he was on his knees in supplication.
Her fingers found his hair, and she held him against her as he pleasured her. He listened to the crescendo of her noises, as they rose like the waves of an oncoming tide, and when she peaked, it was with a cry of something like surprise. Then, soft laughter.
“What?” he asked her, smiling.
“Again,” she said, opening her eyes. They were still glazed with pleasure and he loved it.
His smile was slow as he climbed over her. “Again and again,” he promised her, settling between her open thighs to position himself at her entrance. “I’m going to bury my cock so deep inside you. Is that what you want?”
“Yes,” she whispered, trying to draw him closer. Her legs gripped his hips. “Please.”
Suddenly, he found himself serious as he gazed down at her. It was her first time. She had to know...
No, he needed to be sure. He did not wish to betray her trust.
“Anne. It — this — the first time isn’t always—”
She cupped his cheek. “I know. That’s why I’m glad it’s with you.”
