Page 29 of The Baron's Return
She’d been mortified at how she’d used him for her own pleasure and had been half-afraid he would mock her for it. Perhaps use her neediness against her. But at least here, in the bedchamber, Cranston was generous with her.
His soft suckling at her breasts brought back the ache between her legs. She hadn’t thought it possible to want him again so soon after achieving her release. She’d planned to see the rest of their wedding night through, to make sure he also found his pleasure, but it appeared her body was not yet finished with this man.
She looked down to find him watching her as he released her breast.
“I believe you’re wearing far too much clothing, my lord.”
He was grinning as he rose to his feet. “By all means, allow me to remedy the situation.”
He swept his hand over the bed and she took the invitation to lie down. She longed to crawl under the bedsheets, her bravado already at its limits after stepping out of the nightdress. Amelia had assured her that men liked to watch women undress and had urged her to push aside her reservations. Still, at least now that she was reclining, she could raise her knees to shield her privates, and she draped an arm over her breasts.
Cranston’s lips quirked up when he saw her belated attempts at modesty, but he didn’t mock her for them. Instead, he proceeded to step out of his clothing.
When he was down to just his lawn shirt, which hung down to midthigh, she bit her lip, wondering if he was going to remove that as well. She’d never seen a man totally nude before. Her one time with Cranston had been a hurried celebration when she’d accepted his marriage proposal, and her late husband had always worn a nightshirt when they were together.
Cranston stared into her eyes for several seconds and then with a quick movement drew the shirt over his head. He stood proud, no hint of embarrassment on his face, and she could certainly see why.
He was more beautiful than any man had a right to be. When he was younger, he hadn’t been quite so broad across the shoulders, and now she could see that it was because he’d gained a good deal of muscle during his time of military service.
Her eyes trailed downward, noting the muscle definition of his abdomen, which was far different than her own flat stomach. But even more shocking—and thrilling—was the long, hard length of him that stood proudly, making his desire for her known.
“Do I meet with your approval?”
Embarrassed, she tore her gaze away from his body. She hadn’t meant to stare for quite so long. She wasn’t sure what she expected to see in his eyes. Mockery? Teasing? There had been a light tone to the words, but his eyes were filled with a heat that had her foolish heart turning over in her chest. And heavens, how his undisguised desire filled her with desperate need for him.
She was incapable of speech, so instead she held a hand out to him, the movement baring her breasts to his gaze again. She wasn’t brave enough to lower her knee until he took hold of that hand and joined her on the bed.
He braced himself over her on his elbows and stared down at her. The moment stretched, taut with the promise of what would happen next. It was more intense than anything she’d ever experienced. She’d thought their first time together had been special, if a bit rushed, but this night eclipsed that encounter.
Unable to speak, she reached up to wrap her arms around him again, drawing his head down to hers. He lowered himself over her then, and the shock of feeling his skin pressing against hers everywhere was almost too much to bear.
There was no softness in his kiss, and he used one hand to trace his way down her body, stopping to squeeze both her breasts and tease her nipples before continuing further.
She gasped into his mouth when he touched her between her legs, but he didn’t stop kissing her. He swirled a thumb over the bundle of nerves that rested just above her opening, the way he had done all those years ago when he’d prepared her for their first joining. Her late husband had never bothered to touch her there, caring only for his own pleasure before leaving. But Cranston… She let out a soft moan when he entered her with two fingers and began to mimic the act of lovemaking with his hand.
He raised his head to watch her, but she was beyond embarrassment. When he dipped his head to take a breast into his mouth again, that was all it took for release to sweep over her.
Twice. He’d given her pleasure twice before even thinking about himself. But he was doing that now. He lifted her leg over his back, and she did the same with the other as he finally entered her.
There was no shock of pain with him this time. And her late husband’s inept fumblings were driven from her mind as Cranston plundered her body. Gone was the finesse he’d been showing, but she found that she didn’t care. His hard strokes had her, impossibly, climbing higher than she’d thought possible.
He was panting into her ear as he moved within her, his body strong and confident, and she let out a wanton moan with each powerful thrust.
He raised his head to stare down at her again, and their gazes locked. “I need you to come for me again, Abigail.” His thrusts moved even deeper, a little slower. The drag of his body over that bundle of nerves, the feel of his hard cock filling her… She was powerless to resist the command.
Her body tightened again, and she let out a cry of surprise.
His thrusts became erratic as her channel tightened over him, and then with a groan, he stiffened deep within her and emptied himself.
He stayed frozen over her for some time, his weight pushing her into her feather mattress, before pulling out and rolling onto his back. Abigail turned her head to look at him, but his gaze was fixed on the ceiling.
She wanted to say something. To let him know that this experience had surpassed anything she’d ever imagined. But something had shifted in the air between them, and she couldn’t say what caused her to hold back the words.
Finally he turned to look at her. His expression had been wiped clean of all passion, and a swooping sense of dread settled in her belly.
She could only watch as he sat up, then stood. He bent to pick up his pile of clothing and then, without looking back at her, strode from the room.
She couldn’t help feeling that she had done something wrong. Had she been too wanton? She could have sworn he’d enjoyed wringing pleasure from her.
