Page 51 of Let Me Be Your Hero
Izzie was enjoying driving him out of his mind, possibly a little too much. She managed to undo enough buttons that his falls sagged open, and she eagerly reached inside his breeches to take him out.
She had no trouble locating his man-part; indeed, the wordsimpossible to misscame to mind. The moment she grew concerned was when her fingers failed to meet when she attempted to wrap her hand around it.
“Archibald!” she exclaimed as she brought it out for her examination. Although she was an innocent, she had wormed information out of a housemaidandmade a detailed study ofher brother’s book of scandalous prints. She had thought herself relatively well-prepared for this moment.
But nothing she had learned up until that point had suggested that he would be sothick. She knew where Archibald’s shaft was supposed to go, and this was not going to work.
“It is going to work,” Archibald insisted. Apparently, she had spoken that last bit out loud.
Izzie considered him from another angle. “I don’t believe it is.”
Archibald kissed the top of her head, then pulled her into his lap. “This is what I was trying to avoid. I will admit, we may have a rough time of it on our first go. That’s true no matter what, though. But just as my body swells and changes whenIgrow aroused, your body will respond in kind whenyoubecome aroused. You may not think it will fit now. But if I pleasure you enough, it will.”
“That doesn’t sound entirely bad,” Izzie conceded. Well, there was nothing for it. A bride wasn’t permitted to inspect her husband’s intimate bits before the ceremony. You got the husband you got, and she’d managed to marry the one who was part Clydesdale. “I suppose let’s give it a try.”
Archibald kissed her deeply. Without warning, he tossed her back on the mattress. With a snarl, he seized the neckline of her chemise in both hands, then ripped it clean down the front, baring her body to his gaze.
Izzie whimpered, and something between her legs gave a damp pulse. Archibald was studying her, the corner of his mouth twitching. “I thought you would like that.”
“I did,” she gasped, shrugging off the remains of her shift.
He sat up so he could look at her. “God, Izzie. I’ve been dreaming about seeing you like this for so long.”
“You have?” She had never been naked before a man prior to this moment and had wondered if she would findit embarrassing. But there was nothing tawdry about the way Archibald was looking at her. His eyes were full of yearning, full of worship. Just when it occurred to Izzie to feel abashed about her meager bosom, Archibald reached out a hand, then paused as if he didn’t dare touch her.
“What is it?” Izzie asked.
He swallowed thickly. “It’s just… you’reperfect. It’s like touching a goddess. I feel so unworthy.”
Well, if he liked her diminutive curves, who was she to go telling him he was wrong?
“Funny,” she said, placing a hand on his firm chest and letting her fingertips trail lower across the sculpted muscles of his stomach, which flexed beneath her touch. “I think you’re the one who looks like a god.”
His breath had gone shallow. “Not a god. Just a blacksmith.”
She traced one side of the vee where his hips met his abdomen. “Hephaestus, then.” She began tugging at his breeches, which were sagging around his thighs.
He turned to sit on the side of the bed so he could pull them off. He didn’t meet her eyes as he said, “Aphrodite despised Hephaestus. She would have been happier with Ares.”
He made the remark with a forced lightness that made Izzie suspect it contained a kernel of truth, or at least, whathebelieved to be the truth. “That’s because she was an idiot, as shallow as she was insipid. In fact, I refuse to assume the role of Aphrodite in this scenario. I think we can all agree that I have much more in common with Pandora.”
That earned her a smile as he tossed his breeches aside. “But Pandora didn’t marry Hephaestus.”
She forced herself to tamp down her curiosity and keep her eyes on his face as he turned toward her, fully nude, as she sensed this conversation was more important than he was letting on. “She did this time. That’s the best part about beingthe author—you get to write the ending any way you want. And include as many guard bears and naked pirate swordfights as you wish.”
Archibald paused in the act of reaching for her. “Wait—are you referring to your book?” At her nod, he continued, “So, you’re saying you wrote a scene where naked pirates, er… cross swords?”
“My goodness, it sounds tawdry when you phrase it that way! Of course, there is. Just the regular kind of swordplay, mind you. But my point is,weare the authors of this story. And I say things would have worked out splendidly for Hephaestus had he married someone worthy of him.”
“Hmm.” He didn’t look convinced. “What happens next in our story?”
“This.” Without warning, she pushed his chest with both hands.
Archibald did not budge so much as an inch. He sat there blinking at her, confused, before comprehension dawned in his eyes, and he obligingly fell back on the bed.
She threw a knee across his torso to straddle him, placing her hands on his chest. “I’ve got you now, Archibald Nettlethorpe-Ogilvy!”
“I surrender,” he groaned as she lowered herself to lie on top of him.
