Page 38 of The Hidden Lord
“No,” he replied honestly, straining to maintain control. “This is extraordinary, Miss Bigsby.Youare extraordinary.”
What followed was unlike anything Gabriel had ever experienced. This was not the practiced coupling he had known with other women, calculated to bring mutual pleasure and nothing more. This was deeper, more profound. A joining of not just bodies but souls that left Gabriel shaken and transformed.
She moved beneath him with increasing confidence, her initial hesitation giving way to passion that matched his own. Gabriel found himself drowning in her responses, in the way shecalled his name, in the perfect fit of their bodies together. The sound of skin against skin, the soft cries of pleasure that escaped her lips, the scent of their joined bodies. All of it combined to create an experience that transcended mere physical pleasure, and he was very much afraid it was going to be difficult to suppress his feelings as he had done in the past.
When release finally claimed them both, her climax triggering his own in a rush of sensation that left him gasping, Gabriel collapsed against her with a groan of satisfaction that came from the very depths of his being. For long moments they lay entwined, breathing hard, hearts racing in perfect synchronization.
Gabriel knew he should move, should withdraw from her body now that they were sated. Miss Bigsby was inexperienced, a maiden who would likely experience some soreness from their coupling. But he found himself strangely reluctant to break the connection between them, to end this perfect moment of intimacy.
She shifted beneath him, her amber eyes fluttering open to look up at him with such rapturous satisfaction that Gabriel felt his breath catch. Her smooth thighs bracketed his hips, and the soft globes of her perky breasts were pressed against the hard planes of his chest. Gabriel found himself in lavender-scented heaven when, to his surprise and dismay, he felt his softening cock already beginning to stir back to life within her tight heat. It was unprecedented for his body to demand a second helping so soon, but the sight of her flushed cheeks and kiss-swollen lips was proving irresistible.
“I apologize, Miss Bigsby,” Gabriel murmured, capturing one of her hands and raising it above her head, which caused her magnificent breasts to arch upward enticingly. “But I am afraid we are not yet done.”
He leaned down to capture her plump lips yet again, thinking with wonder that being married to her might not be such a penance after all. In fact, as she responded to his renewed passion with eager enthusiasm, Gabriel began to suspect that marriage to this remarkable woman might be the greatest blessing of his entire life.
The calculated seduction had become far more—genuine feeling that threatened to transform him completely. And as he lost himself once more in her sweet responses, he found he no longer cared about strategy or manipulation.
All that mattered was this woman in his arms, and the hope that she might come to care for him as deeply as he was beginning to care for her.
Henri laybeneath Gabriel’s weight, her body still trembling from the extraordinary sensations he had introduced her to. She felt changed, transformed in ways she could never have imagined when she had awakened that morning. The ache between her thighs was a strange mixture of soreness and satisfaction, a physical reminder of what had transpired between them.
Henri was nearly thirty years old, so she had overheard a thing or two about carnal relations in a well-attended place like Westminster. The wives of politicians were not always as discreet as they might be when they thought themselves among friends, and Henri had gleaned enough information over the years to understand the basic mechanics of what occurred between husband and wife. Yet she was surprised to feel Gabriel’s appendage swelling and lengthening inside her, growing firm and insistent once more.
Her mouth fell open with the realization that it was hardening again, his body preparing to take her a second time, just as his mouth claimed her lips in a deep and drugging kiss. The sensation was startling and terribly erotic. She could feel him growing within her, stretching her anew, making her breath catch with the unexpected indulgence of it as her pleasure mounted again.
Henri pulled away from his kiss for just an instant, just long enough to meet his eyes and whisper the words that had been hovering on her lips since they had entered the bedchamber. “Henrietta,” she said breathlessly. “Henri to my family.”
Gabriel’s eyes darkened, as though her permission to use her given name meant far more to him than simple courtesy. “Henri,” he murmured, testing her name on his lips like a prayer. “My beautiful Henri.”
This time, their joining was different. Where before Gabriel had been careful, gentle, mindful of her inexperience, now there was a new urgency between them. Henri found herself responding with equal fervor, her body already knowing his rhythm, already craving the pleasure he could bring her.
She marveled at the way her body knew what to do without instruction, how her hips rose to meet his thrusts, how her legs wrapped around his waist to draw him deeper. The sounds that escaped her throat were foreign to her own ears and seemed to drive Gabriel to greater heights of passion.
“You feel so perfect,” Gabriel groaned against her throat, his voice rough with desire. “So tight, so warm. I cannot get enough of you.”
Henri felt a surge of feminine pride at his words, at the evidence of how thoroughly she affected him. This powerful, controlled man was losing himself in her, and the knowledge filled her with a heady sense of her own power.
Gabriel’s movements became more urgent, more demanding, and Henri found herself swept along in the tide of sensation. Her hands roamed over the broad expanse of his back, feeling the play of muscles beneath his skin, the slight dampness of perspiration that spoke to his exertion.
When Gabriel shifted his angle slightly, Henri cried out in shock and pleasure as he found a spot within her that made stars dance behind her eyelids. He understood her reaction immediately, repeating the movement until Henri was writhing beneath him, her hands clutching at his shoulders as sensation built to an unbearable peak.
“Let go,” Gabriel commanded, hoarse with need. “Let me see you fall apart again, Henri. Let me watch you come undone.”
The words pushed Henri over the edge, and she found herself convulsing around him, her body clenching rhythmically as waves of pleasure crashed over her. The intensity of it was even greater than before, leaving her gasping and shaking in Gabriel’s arms.
Gabriel’s own release followed moments later. He growled deep in his throat, tossing his head back in ecstasy, and Henri was amazed, smugly proud, that she could solicit such primal responses in a man so aloof and controlled. To see him lose that careful composure, to know that she was the cause of his abandon, filled her with a satisfaction that went far beyond the physical pleasure they had shared.
Then he collapsed his long, hard body over hers, catching himself on his elbows so he would not crush her with his weight. His face pressed into the side of her neck in an oddly affectionate gesture that made Henri’s heart clench with unexpected tenderness.
For long moments they lay like that, breathing hard, hearts thumping in unison. Henri found herself thinking about what Mr. Tyne had told her earlier. Gabriel was intensely private, howeven his closest associates struggled to understand what he was thinking. Despite his stoic exterior, Gabriel did hold her in high regard. He wished to forge a closer connection.
The aggravating man needed her. Henri recalled that glimpse of raw thirst she had seen lurking in his eyes. The realization made her spirits soar as she understood better how to make this new path palatable. Perhaps marriage to Gabriel would not mean the loss of her independence so much as the gaining of a purpose she had never considered. It was up to her to draw him out, to help make him whole.
“Gabriel,” Henri whispered, her fingers combing through his sandy hair as he nuzzled against her throat. “Are you well?”
He lifted his head to look down at her, and Henri was startled by the vulnerability she saw in his hazel eyes. Gone was the careful mask he usually wore, replaced by naked honesty that made her breath catch.
“More than well,” Gabriel replied quietly. “Henri, I … what we just shared …” He seemed to struggle with words, as though the emotions coursing through him were too complex to express easily.
