Lord Will & Her Grace by Sophia Nash Page B

certain vulnerable weakness he had
discarded early in life. No, this had not been pleasant.
    The times he had had carnal relations with
women in the past had been slow, sensual, pleasurable, mutually
satisfying, invigorating. He had explored and exceeded every
delight that could be performed on the body. He had mindlessly
pleasured his bed partners and they had eagerly pleasured him in
return, filling him with an ill-gotten sort of satisfaction.
Fornication, in short.
    But, this had been a release. It had
liberated him from his past connections and it bound him to a
future unlike anything he had imagined.
    Yet, he had hurt her. He had not taken her
innocence in the proper, least painful way. He should have touched
her, tasted her, massaged her for many, many long minutes. Instead
it had been she who had comforted him. He felt indebted to her— an
uncomfortable, weak sensibility.
    When the long pulses of his body stopped, he
gathered her in his arms and rested against her. She smelled
faintly of roses.
    She was gliding her palms up and down the
length of the back of his coat. Good God, he hadn't even removed an
article of his clothing. She quietly said his name, and a stream of
soothing words spoke of loving devotion.
    It was so tight and inviting inside of her,
he could not stop his arousal from hardening again into a need more
familiar than before. He grasped her hand and moved it to his lips,
kissing it and noticing the deep fire of the sapphire now resting
on her finger.
    His took his first full, long stroke within
her and felt her quick intake of breath. This would be all for
her.
    His mind had returned and he used every last
skill he knew to bring her to the brink of pleasure. He touched her
with his deft fingers, and his mouth, always stroking into her
slowly, expertly, for a very long time until he knew, without
doubt, that she would find her release.
    He pushed himself as deeply as he dared,
filling her completely and yet encouraging her body to take even
more of himself inside her. And when he felt the pulsing of her
muscles, he held himself rigidly still, then stretched her even
more to bring her fulfillment for as long as possible.
    When she was quiet, he raised himself on his
arms and looked down at her. She was dazed and exhausted, on the
brink of sleep. He kissed her forehead and gathered her back into
his arms, making sure to take as much weight off of her as he
could.
    She sighed and was asleep in moments.
    His arousal was now painful and still deep
and full within her. He regulated his breathing and slowly, ever so
slowly withdrew from her. He did not even try to understand why he
refused himself this second release.
    He understood so little of what had overcome
him. There was only one thing he understood with crystal clarity.
He had been entirely wrong to think that he was master and
commander of this match.
     

     
    Sophie tiptoed up the servant's stair in the
darkness to avoid the dozing footmen at the main staircase. Shoes
in one hand, touching the thin banister railing with the other, she
silently crept to her bedchamber. Each step proved an effort as
she was swollen and sore where William had been.
    Sophie prayed her smug maid had refused to
wait up as she would be unable to bear Karine's knowing eyes.
    The chamber's latch screeched long and loud
when she moved the intricate brass lever. Sophie peeked around the
edge of the door to find Karine seated before Sophie's little gilt
table, littered with articles from Sophie's personal toilette. Her
maid was trying the new subtle rouge she had forced Sophie to buy
in London. The one Sophie had disdained to wear. Karine's
appraising glance reflected from the oval looking glass.
    "It is as I thought," the pretty, petite maid
stated matter-of-factly. "Let us remove that gown before any stains
set."
    Sophie knew she was blushing, but refused to
speak as Karine rose from her perch to remove the gown.
    "I tried to warn you, mademoiselle, did I
not?" Karine