Page 23 of A Gentleman Never Surrenders
“Very well.” His laugh was soft and rich, burning her inside like the gin.
Owen stood and with deft hands, swung her up into his arms and walked the few feet to the bed and set her down.
“Stay here while I find you a nightdress.” He exited his chamber.
While he was gone, she unbound her hair and combed her fingers through the long strands, detangling small knots. Then she peeled back the covers of the bed and slipped beneath them. His bed was warm, and the fire heated the room much better than her chamber down the hall.
The walls of Owen’s room were a buttery yellow with portraits of his ancestors hanging there. She saw a slight resemblance, mainly about the mouth and eyes. Owen’s lips were seductive, full and soft. She’d studied them often enough over the last few days that they’d become a part of her waking fantasy. She leaned over the edge of the bed to see past the canopy hangings and took in the sight of the elegant plasterwork ceiling. Tree branches and vines with flowers created a forest above her head. Wesden Heath may be old and in much need of care, but what was here was elegant, beautiful. It would be easy to come to love this house as much as she did Pepperwirth Vale.
“You like it?” Owen’s voice made her tense, then relax. He’d snuck back into the room without her noticing. A nightdress hung over one of his arms.
“It’s beautiful,” she agreed, nodding at the ceiling.
“It was inspired by the Vine Room at Kellie Castle.” He walked around the bed to stand in front of her.
“I’ve been to Kellie Castle.” She smiled. “I thought this looked familiar but couldn’t quite place it.” She looked up at him, feeling the height difference much more acutely because he stood over her while she sat upon his bed. A little shiver wracked her at the thought of being so much smaller than him. She hadn’t thought she’d ever like feeling smaller, but with Owen, it didn’t seem frightening; rather it felt exciting. Every time he was close to her and she felt the heat of his body and the size of him compared to her, it made her heart race and her breath catch in her throat.
“Would you like my assistance in helping you change?” He held up the nightdress.
“What?” Her voice came out high-pitched and breathless.
“Would you like me to help you out of those clothes?” His reply was low and soft as he grasped her hands and lifted her out of the bed to stand on her feet.
When she turned her back to him, he began undoing the hooks of her navy skirt. The pressure of his hands was hot against her skin through the thin fabric of her blouse and chemise. Cold air kissed the backs of her legs as her skirt fell into a pool on the floor. Before she could turn or speak, his hands were coming around the front of her to unbutton her blouse. His body was so warm behind her that she couldn’t resist the temptation to lean back against him as he parted her shirt. He gently pushed her forward a few inches so her shirt could slide off her body. A shiver wracked her as she stood there, wearing nothing but her chemise.
Practically naked. Her shoulders were bare since the chemise had slender lacy straps, rather than sleeves. Owen stroked one hand up her right arm to her shoulder, then across her collarbone and down to the valley of her breasts. Her breathing quickened and she panted softly as he pressed his hand above her heart.
“It’s beating so fast,” he whispered. The featherlight touch of his lips against the shell of her ear sent a bolt of heat to that secret spot between her thighs.
“Don’t be frightened,” he coaxed. “I would never hurt you.” He curled one arm around her waist, keeping her pressed back against him. His other hand began to lift the edge of her chemise up, inch by inch. Her knees locked together, but he continued to glide his hand up her thigh, sliding his fingers over to fall between her legs. As he did, his mouth pressed lingering, soft kisses on her ear, her jaw, the nape of her neck. The delicate flick of his tongue in her ear was enough to make her gasp and jerk against him as her body hummed to life.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” he encouraged moments before his hand reached the juncture of her thighs. He cupped her mound, gently rubbing. His other hand on her waist moved up to grip her throat, and she arched her back. He seduced ruthlessly, his kisses perfectly placed on her throat to make her purr and moan. It was overwhelming, the feel of him possessively cupping her sex, putting pressure on an area she didn’t know would respond with such a potent touch. When his teeth lightly raked her skin and he nipped her earlobe, she thought she was going to die with the building tension and pleasure. Wriggling her bottom against his groin, she tried to get him to do something, anything to ease the ache in her womb.
Owen parted the slick folds of her sex, exploring her with one fingertip, the sensation so shocking she hissed out a breath.
“Owen, what are you doing?” she demanded, breathless and scandalized.
His rough chuckle against her neck made her belly quiver.
“I’m learning your body, sweetheart. What touches, what strokes, drive you to sweet madness.”
Sweet madness? She was certain she was already there. His intimate touch would have made her blush and shy away from him if she hadn’t already been flushed and caught in his embrace. They moved two steps forward, until the front of her knees and lower thighs hit the bed. He used his own body to trap her against the mattress.
“God, Milly,” he groaned against her neck, and that ragged exhalation of her name sent her spiraling into a frightening, yet exciting place within herself she’d never experienced.
“How does it feel?” he asked, his finger drawing teasing patterns in the most sensitive part of her.
“Good…” She hesitated and then tensed and grasped his wrist, but didn’t pull his hand away from between her thighs.
“Please don’t tell me to stop.” It was the closest thing she’d heard to begging from him.
Could she let him do this? Push her past a boundary of intimacy she’d never thought she’d give any man?
“Let me show you how good it can be.” His fingers nudged her entrance and the strangled little sound of shock and his heavy breathing were the only sounds in the room besides the fire.
“Owen!” She clung to his arm that still held her by the throat, keeping her against him as he thrust one finger inside her. The feeling of that small penetration into her swollen channel made her instinctively clench around him. He rocked his hips against her from behind and the hard press of his arousal in the cleft of her buttocks built a new wave of heat inside her.
“Just tell me one little word, Milly. Yes. That’s all I need to hear.”
