He was an arrogant man that
had tricked her into marriage. The slightest ember of anger flared
as she recalled their hurried marriage and his unorthodox proposal.
It vanished when he sighed and his warm breath tickled her
ear.
“ I-I’d like to remove my stays,” she whispered, feeling less
brave by the second. “I’m uncomfortable.”
“ Of course.” William’s gruff voice caused an inexplicable
tightness to squeeze her chest. “You were so sleepy, I didn’t
think.” He cleared his voice. “I apologize, Emily.” He released her
instantly. She scurried out of the bed to the darkest corner in the
room. She shivered. The room was surprisingly cold.
“ Do you need any help?”
“ No ,” she shrieked.
She cleared her voice. “Thank you,” she managed to say more
quietly.
Good God, she was insane or possessed or… anything. Certainly,
she’d lost her mind, for what else could explain the way she felt?
Her fingers shook as she fumbled to remove her dress and unlace her
stays. If William helped her she’d be back in bed in no time. How
could she even contemplate such a thing? A tempest of passion. That
was all. They’d been in close quarters for too long and William was
a good-looking man. She was attracted to him. That was all. She
would rationalize this and overcome it. Attraction could be
overcome. She’d done it before with the bastard that had wanted her
as nothing more than a mother for his heirs, so she could do it
again with a man that had forced her into marriage.
Finally,
Emily shimmied out of her stays. She let out a long sigh. She could
do this. She approached the water basin and splashed some cool
water on her face. Everything would be all right. William might be
her husband but he was not a good man. He’d coerced her into this
unseemly situation. He was a ruffian. She climbed into bed beneath
the covers, making sure to keep as far away from him as
possible.
No sooner had she lain down her head, his
arms came around her pulling her rife against him. No. No. No. Her mind
protested vehemently, but her body sank into his comforting hold.
He was not pressuring her, he was not forcing her. He was simply
holding her close. She had to say something. She had to ask him to
release her. Tears prickled at the back of her eyes. He was the
enemy. She had to hate him. She had to
hate him. Principles. It was all about
principles, love, desire, passion… and the hard rod of flesh
pushing against her bottom. It all came down to that thing that was
making her quim weep.
“ Oh God,” she whispered.
“ Emily?”
“ William.”
She placed her hand over his, splaying his fingers on her
flesh. His surprise mingled with hers. What was she doing? She
dragged his hand across her hip and to her thigh. Where was she
taking him?
She
didn’t have a clear answer, but William did. He continued moving,
dragging their hands to the apex between her thighs, softly rubbing
her mound over her shift. Her lips parted in a silent gasp. He was
touching her and it felt so good. His other hand moved slightly,
his long fingers brushing the bottom of her breast. Could her
temperature rise any further? Her nipples hardened into pebbles,
scraping against her shift. Her legs parted slightly and William’s
hand moved lower rubbing her pubis in circles.
“ William.”
“ Tell me to stop, Emily. Tell me to cease and I will do so at
once,” he said in a strangled voice.
No, no, no. She
didn’t want him to stop. She replied by pushing her body against
his groin. William groaned. His hands moved more boldly. The one
between her thighs clamped over her quim, driving the movements of
her hips. The other searched for her breast. He found it and
squeezed it. Emily gasped and arched into the touch. William
pressed his palm flat against her nipple and rubbed before grasping
it, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger and tugging. She
cried out as pleasure slammed between her legs, the earlier
throbbing becoming a relentless
had tricked her into marriage. The slightest ember of anger flared
as she recalled their hurried marriage and his unorthodox proposal.
It vanished when he sighed and his warm breath tickled her
ear.
“ I-I’d like to remove my stays,” she whispered, feeling less
brave by the second. “I’m uncomfortable.”
“ Of course.” William’s gruff voice caused an inexplicable
tightness to squeeze her chest. “You were so sleepy, I didn’t
think.” He cleared his voice. “I apologize, Emily.” He released her
instantly. She scurried out of the bed to the darkest corner in the
room. She shivered. The room was surprisingly cold.
“ Do you need any help?”
“ No ,” she shrieked.
She cleared her voice. “Thank you,” she managed to say more
quietly.
Good God, she was insane or possessed or… anything. Certainly,
she’d lost her mind, for what else could explain the way she felt?
Her fingers shook as she fumbled to remove her dress and unlace her
stays. If William helped her she’d be back in bed in no time. How
could she even contemplate such a thing? A tempest of passion. That
was all. They’d been in close quarters for too long and William was
a good-looking man. She was attracted to him. That was all. She
would rationalize this and overcome it. Attraction could be
overcome. She’d done it before with the bastard that had wanted her
as nothing more than a mother for his heirs, so she could do it
again with a man that had forced her into marriage.
Finally,
Emily shimmied out of her stays. She let out a long sigh. She could
do this. She approached the water basin and splashed some cool
water on her face. Everything would be all right. William might be
her husband but he was not a good man. He’d coerced her into this
unseemly situation. He was a ruffian. She climbed into bed beneath
the covers, making sure to keep as far away from him as
possible.
No sooner had she lain down her head, his
arms came around her pulling her rife against him. No. No. No. Her mind
protested vehemently, but her body sank into his comforting hold.
He was not pressuring her, he was not forcing her. He was simply
holding her close. She had to say something. She had to ask him to
release her. Tears prickled at the back of her eyes. He was the
enemy. She had to hate him. She had to
hate him. Principles. It was all about
principles, love, desire, passion… and the hard rod of flesh
pushing against her bottom. It all came down to that thing that was
making her quim weep.
“ Oh God,” she whispered.
“ Emily?”
“ William.”
She placed her hand over his, splaying his fingers on her
flesh. His surprise mingled with hers. What was she doing? She
dragged his hand across her hip and to her thigh. Where was she
taking him?
She
didn’t have a clear answer, but William did. He continued moving,
dragging their hands to the apex between her thighs, softly rubbing
her mound over her shift. Her lips parted in a silent gasp. He was
touching her and it felt so good. His other hand moved slightly,
his long fingers brushing the bottom of her breast. Could her
temperature rise any further? Her nipples hardened into pebbles,
scraping against her shift. Her legs parted slightly and William’s
hand moved lower rubbing her pubis in circles.
“ William.”
“ Tell me to stop, Emily. Tell me to cease and I will do so at
once,” he said in a strangled voice.
No, no, no. She
didn’t want him to stop. She replied by pushing her body against
his groin. William groaned. His hands moved more boldly. The one
between her thighs clamped over her quim, driving the movements of
her hips. The other searched for her breast. He found it and
squeezed it. Emily gasped and arched into the touch. William
pressed his palm flat against her nipple and rubbed before grasping
it, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger and tugging. She
cried out as pleasure slammed between her legs, the earlier
throbbing becoming a relentless
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