Page 15 of A Very Roguish Boxing Day
He meant it.He could fucking do this.It had been a while, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to make this good for her.She deserved a damn sight better than what she’d got from her brother and ‘husband.’
He knew something about that—about deserving better than what you got.
And he wasn’t going to let them make Gwen feel like rubbish.
“I’m going to make this fucking good for you,” he said before his lips came down on hers.
Chapter8
Gwendolyn’s thoughts scrambled.
Tom was kissing her, this time not seeming to mind that she hadn’t the faintest idea how to kiss him back.He took charge, pulling her into his lap and plunging his tongue into her mouth when she gave a startled gasp.
Not that she minded, per se.His kisses made her feel strange.Giddy, almost.Her entire body was trembling, and she thought her heart might thunder out of her chest.
But she liked it.Or at least… she thought she did.
As if Tom’s kiss wasn’t overwhelming enough, he brought a huge hand up and cupped one of her breasts through her dress.Her whole body jerked in response, but Gwen was certain she likedthat, especially when he ran his thumb over her nipple.
“Fucking hell, Gwen,” he groaned, bringing his other hand up to give her right breast the same treatment.
Being a gently bred lady, and not a daring one at that, Gwen was unaccustomed to hearing such language.To be sure, she had occasionally caught a shouted remark in the street or overheard her brother cursing with his friends when they didn’t realize she was around.She probably should have been offended, yet she found that she wasn’t, probably because Tom did not mean his comments in an insulting way.Quite the contrary, she thought, and moreover, he was a boxer.This was simply his customary manner of speech, and not all that different from a fashionable young miss sprinkling her conversation with French when she declared an ensemblea la modeorde rigueur.
Shaking herself, Gwen saw that Tom’s eyes were fixed upon her bosom, his gaze hungry.He squeezed her breasts, which made her gasp.
Abruptly, he released her, and Gwendolyn made a strangled sound.It was on the tip of her lips to cry, “Please, don’t stop!”because nothing had ever felt so good as his thumbs stroking her nipples, but she couldn’t quite summon up the nerve.
But then, she noticed that Tom’s hands had gone to the row of tiny buttons at the front of her dress.“I’ve got to see these,” he announced, his thick fingers flying with surprising deftness over the buttons.
He peeled the dress open, then pushed both it and her petticoats down.Lifting her with one arm as easily as if she were a rag doll, he shoved the mass of layers out of the way and tossed it on the floor.
Heat flared in his eyes as he took in the sight of her in naught but her corset and shift.“Well, well, well—look what you were hiding beneath that prudish gown!You’re a regular pocket Venus.”
Gwen’s hands flew up to cover her breasts, which, as usual, were threatening to burst out of the cups of her corset.
Tom laughed, brushing her hands away.“Why don’t you let me do that?”
Gwen gasped as he slipped a thumb inside her corset and traced the outline of her nipple, which had gone hard as a pebble.But then, his gaze drifted lower to her soft stomach and thick thighs, which were visible through her thin shift.“I’m sorry,” Gwen gasped.“I know I’m… pudgy.”
“Pudgy?”he snorted.“You’re ripe as a plum, is what you are.Who made you feel bad about yourself?Probably some woman who’s as bony as a fucking chicken.”
Gwen shuddered because now he was unlacing her corset.“A lithe figure is considered to be… more elegant.”
Tom snorted, giving her a look.“Lithe figure, my arse.Do you know what men like?Tits.”He made an appreciative sound as he peeled her corset off.“And you’ve got ‘em.”
Gwen couldn’t really argue with that.She certainly hadtits, as Tom had put it.It was also clear that Tom liked them.But it was the strangest thing—unlike the lewd stares she’d drawn ever since her figure filled out, she found that she didn’t mind his appreciative gaze.Maybe it was the fact that she had expressly invited him to look at her.Or that his gaze managed to walk the fine line of being lustful without being lewd and was full of enjoyment of her figure rather than entitlement to it.
Strange as it sounded, considering this was her first time being in a state of undress before a man, she felt herself relax.
Tom’s eyes were bright as he said, “Gotta get my hands on these.”He untied the ribbon at the neckline of her chemise and pushed it down so that it sagged around her waist.
“Sweet Jesus,” he breathed as he filled his hands with her.His hands were huge, but her breasts overflowed them easily.His eyes fluttered, and the groan that emerged from his throat did not sound feigned.His hands kneaded her gently, seeming to enjoy the weight and texture of her.
Gwen found that she was enjoying his touch, too.The heat of his hands made a delicious contrast to the room’s cool night air.The friction felt wonderful, especially against her nipples, making her strangely glad for the callouses she could feel against her softest, most private skin.
“Fucking gorgeous,” Tom moaned.“I’ve got to taste you.”
“T-taste?”Gwen gasped.“What do you mean?—”
