Page 77 of Unforeseen Affairs
Suddenly he shifted, and his movements felt more deliberate now. He was waking up. Charlotte was about to scoot away, but he gently pulled her closer, pushing the bedlinens down her legs. His mouth came to her shoulder and pressed a soft kiss against the lace trim of her chemise.
She released a ragged and relieved sigh.
“Charlotte,” he murmured against her skin, “if I—”
“Shhh,” she hissed, not wanting him to cry her off, to deny her this.
“But—”
“Please,” she begged, arching back into him.
He made his own muffled moaning sound as he accepted her into his hold, his arms encircling her slowly and hesitantly as if in disbelief.
“I cannot,” he protested, even as one hand slid down her middle, between her legs. Even as he kissed her neck, firm and demanding. “Not without asking—”
“Please!” Charlotte cried, her hand moving to grasp her breast seemingly of its own volition. She ground herself back against him. He felt even more rigid, even more exciting. “Please, Colin,” she gasped softly as she palmed herself. “You promised not to apologize.”
Then his fingers ghosted the slit in her drawers, and she cried out.
“Charlotte, I must ask you, before we continue—”
“Yes!” she keened, her breath hitching as he slid his hand underneath the fabric. “Of course yes.”
How could he think otherwise? How could Colin evendreamthat she might not wish for this? She shoved her back into him again, and was rewarded with a strained groan.
And then his entire bearing shifted in an instant, and he fell upon her like a starving man. Charlotte could barely catch her breath as he dipped into her with a finger, then two, thrusting in and out with such a natural and needed movement that she wondered why she’d never considered such an act before. She was certainly no simpleton; she’d read plenty of books, seen plenty of lurid imagery. She’d even petted herself on occasion… but this she’d never attempted.
When he removed his fingers she wanted to whimper, but he deftly dragged them up her sex, slick and wet, to circle the center of her pleasure.
It felt thrilling, powerful… and yet at the same time, the simplest and most human thing she could imagine. She sank into the delight, into a heightened awareness of all of her senses—from the taut anticipation coiled in her body to the smell of him, to the strong, collected energy she felt emanating from each of his touches. He kicked away the rest of the bedlinens, freeing her completely, and she hooked her foot around his, opening her legs wider and allowing him more room to pleasure her. With his other hand he took her breast, which he began kneading unyieldingly as his fingers worked between her legs, quickening just as her breath did.
By the time he slowed long enough to tease at her hardened nipple—brushing it gently at first before rolling it between his fingers—she’d nearly reached that height of ecstasy.
And then Charlotte did cry out, moaning his name in a low, urgent voice with all the wildness and hot, molten pleasure that coursed through her.
When she finally stopped trembling, she felt profoundly at peace; it was as if she floated in a large, warm tub, her entire body at ease.
With a shuddering breath, she relaxed even deeper into Colin’s hold. His kisses upon her neck resumed, slow and languid.
If that had been desire, then this—lying here with him, two people setting aside the worries of everyday life to find respite from their loneliness—must be contentment.
Satisfied to remain like this forever, Charlotte let her eyes flutter shut. How long they remained so she could not say. But the light in the room was much brighter when Colin gently shifted her, turning her so that she could face him while cradled in his arms.
In the morning light he was somehow even more perfect, with his hair falling over his brow, his lips wet and parted, the masculine lines of his face no longer stern, but rugged and romantic. His eyes, earnest and heavy-lidded, were fixed on her, waiting and wanting.
Looking at him now felt different. But she did not quail, and held his gaze as she wet her own lips.
Those kind, gentle eyes fell to her mouth. Another wave of delicious heat washed over her.
He kissed her.
But more meaningfully than before, that time in the alleyway. More certain, full of feeling and hope, rather than desperation. Her hand came naturally to his shoulder, and she caressed his neck as she returned the kiss, parting her lips to deepen the connection between them, to taste his mouth and allow him to taste hers.
He still wore his shirt and trousers from the day before, and beneath that, whatever undergarments men wore. She wanted to see, to find out and then peel them off. Thinking of her own half-undone chemise, she began fiddling with the tiny, terrible buttons that remained. Colin seemed to understand; without breaking the kiss he reached for her drawers, the linen wrinkled and damp, the slit parted so wide she was completely exposed. Sparing her one gentle stroke, his palm ghosting over her hair, he came to the tie at her waist and deftly undid it.
And then he left the rest to her, continuing to kiss her as she shimmied out of her drawers while he undid the fall of his own trousers. Only then did he step back, needing two hands to work effectively at his own buttons. Once that was done, he went to work at his shirt’s placket, staring at her with an intense and determined gaze all the while.
Charlotte stared back, nude from the waist down and with her chemise hanging completely open. He shucked his shirt off, and she felt a leap of excitement at the broad line of his shoulders. Her fingers itched to touch him, to dig into the hard, muscled flesh, but she waited.
