Page 66 of The Sea Siren of Broadwater Bottom
“Edward,” she said, squeezing his hands until he looked at her. She could see her own reflection in the dressing table mirror behind him, and her face was every bit as red as her hair, but she forced herself to say it again. “I know where it is.” He was staring at her, bewilderment etched across his features. “The spot,” she clarified, trying not to cringe. “Where I, er, love to be touched.”
His eyebrows shot up halfway to his hairline. “Oh! You mean to say that you—that you like to… ”
She swallowed, fortifying herself. “I do.”
She was in agony awaiting his reaction. Because she could not have confessed to something more taboo. On this matter the church was clear: self-pleasure was strictly forbidden. Yet it was one thing for a man to admit to such a failing. It was still thought wrong, but it was a common enough sin. Men were allowed to have desires. They weresupposedto. Women, on the other hand…
She peered at him uncertainly, trying to glean any emotion other than shock from his expression. Oh, but this was awful. He probably thought her the worst kind of strumpet. His good opinion of her had just been destroyed in an instant. He would want nothing to do with her now. He would leave, and she wouldn’t even have tonight to look back upon.
“ThankGod,” he said, his voice shaking.
“Wha—what?”
“That is the most wonderful news!”
“It—it is?” she asked, befuddled.
“Of course it is.” He looked down at her then, his eyes full of relief. “Elissa,you can show me what to do. To please you.” He let his head loll back. “Never have I been so relieved.”
She gave a nervous laugh. “I was afraid you would, er, think poorly of me.”
He snorted, dropping his gaze to hers. “Well, that would make me a rank sort of hypocrite, now wouldn’t it?”
“Do you mean that you—that you—” She trailed off, unable to say it.
His expression was incredulous. “I am atwenty-seven-year-oldvirgin.” He said this as if it explained everything, but seeing her blank look, he added, “I would have absolutely lost my mind if I didn’t… you know.”
“Oh! I—I see,” she said, even though she did not. She cleared her throat, gesturing to the bed. “Shall we, er—”
“Let’s,” he said, and she giggled at how formal and awkward they were being. He sat upon the bed, and Elissa climbed into his lap, looping her arms around his neck.
He enveloped her in his embrace, and then they were kissing. She could tell he was trying to go slowly, to be gentle. But his hands trembled as they framed her face, and when her thigh brushed the insistent bulge in the front of his trousers, he broke off his kiss with a moan. Elissa found his artless fervor more arousing than the most practiced seduction could ever have been.
Elissa delved inside his dressing gown to trace the broad planes of his chest through the fine linen of his shirt. He could tolerate only a minute of that and soon rolled back upon the bed, taking her with him so they were lying side by side. It was becoming more real now. They were lying together on her bed.They were going to do this.Slowly, reverently, his hands began stroking her breasts through the fine fabric of her shift, while hers had worked their way under his shirt to caress his bare back. Impatient to feel more of him, she struggled to tug his dressing gown down his arms. He shrugged it off onto the bed, then, seeing her efforts to pull his shirt up, he rose to sitting and obligingly removed it.
Elissa propped herself up on one elbow, staring at him in awe. Not that she had seen so much Greek and Roman sculpture, but she couldn’t imagine that there existed anything out there as exquisitely sculpted as Edward Astley. His shoulders were broad, his waist trim, and every inch of him was firm planes of muscle. As she had ascertained the other night, he was not overly hairy, just a sprinkling of dark hair across his chest, and a thicker trail extending below his navel and disappearing beneath the waistband of his trousers. She reached her hand out tentatively to stroke him. His skin was surprisingly smooth to the touch, the texture of silk when it was warm from the iron.
She caught him looking at her, and she took it by the hungry expression in his eyes that he was keen for her to return the favor. She sat up nervously. “Have you ever seen a naked woman before?”
His reply was guttural. “No.”
She smiled in spite of her nerves. He must have been longing for this moment for years. She was happy to be the one who got give it to him.
She tugged the hem of her chemise up around her thighs. “Wait,” Edward said, reaching out and taking the end of her plait. He untied the cord and began awkwardly unravelling her hair. “Do you mind?” he asked belatedly.
She felt her heart squeeze. “Not at all. Here,” she said, reaching up and taking over for him.
He said only one word as he drank in the sight of her in naught but her shift, her red hair tumbling in waves past her waist, and that word was, “Siren.” The admiration in his eyes gave her the confidence to peel her shift up over her head and cast it aside. That was the limit of her courage, however, and she squeezed her eyes shut as she laid back down upon the bed. It took her a moment to work up the nerve to open her eyes, but she was so glad when she did. She knew at once that she would never forget the expression in Edward’s eyes in the moment she lay naked before him for the first time, a potent mixture of longing, reverence, and awe.
He reached for her, then paused. “Elissa…” He swallowed thickly as his hand came to cup her breast. “You’re so beautiful. You’re the most perfect thing I’ve ever seen.”
Hesitantly, he stroked down her side, and she shivered. She wanted his hands all over her, but he seemed to need a moment to drink in the sight of her, so she bit her lip, trying to tamp down her impatience.
He didn’t make her wait long. After a moment, he lay down beside her and took her into his arms. They both moaned aloud in the moment his body pressed against hers, overwhelmed by the delicious sensation of so much skin-upon-skin.
“God, that feels good,” he groaned.
“Sogood,” she confirmed.
