She shivered and he paused, forcing himself to recall her past, feeling the potential for fear and anxiety. He took a deep breath and leaned with her against the high edge of his bed.
“I want to make love to you, Helena,” he whispered. “I want that more than anything. But not if it causes you grief. So tell me, is that what you want?”
She didn’t hesitate, but nodded immediately. That put some ease into his heart. As did her words when she said, “All I can think about is you, Baldwin. It won’t last. It can’t. But I want tonight.”
“Good,” he said, and slid his hands to where her simple gown fastened in the front. He never broke her gaze as he slipped each button free. “But if you need me to stop or wait or go slowly, I want you to tell me. We have all night. And I want to make it perfect.”
Helena shuddered as Baldwin parted her gown and revealed the plain chemise beneath. His warm fingers slid beneath the fabric and slowly eased it from her shoulders, down her arms, her hips, and let it fall around her feet.
She shifted slightly, uncomfortable about being seen in such a revealed state. Her shift was thin cotton, washed too many times, and she knew it was almost see-through in some places. Under that she wore a pair of drawers, the pleated edges of which peeked out from beneath the chemise. She felt her skin getting hot as he just stared at her, silent. Reverent, even.
“You are so beautiful. I want to memorize every line of you. I want to burn this image in my mind forever so I never lose it, no matter what age and infirmity bring.”
She shivered at those sweet words. And again when he tucked a finger beneath each thin strap of her chemise and tugged it down, too. Inch by inch her skin was exposed, lower and lower until her breasts were bared and kissed by the warm air in the room.
She turned her head, unable to meet his eyes anymore.
“So lovely,” he muttered, more to himself, it seemed, than to her. As her chemise fluttered to join her gown, he lifted a hand and gently cupped her bare breast. He stroked his thumb over her nipple and electric pleasure sizzled through her veins until she gasped in surprise.
He slid a hand beneath her knees and lifted her onto his bed. She settled against the pillows and watched as he stepped away and stripped open his jacket buttons. He cast it aside, the same with his waistcoat. He unwrapped his cravat and unbuttoned his shirt. Pulling it from his trousers, he tugged the contraption over his head and her world just…stopped.
He was something. Broad-shouldered, perfectly muscled, with just a sprinkling of chest hair that made a path into his trouser waist. She had not had much experience with naked men. Her attacker hadn’t undressed. Her only points of reference were garden statues that made her eyes boggle.
This was different.
He tugged his boots off, then moved back toward her, leaving his trousers in place, just as her drawers were. He took a spot beside her on the bed, rolling to his side to face her.
“Still fine?” he asked.
She nodded. “Yes. You must understand, Baldwin, what happened, I’ve already been broken from it. But broken bones heal stronger. I’m that.”
“Yes, I can see that’s true. I admire it enormously.” He met her gaze. “It doesn’t mean that I won’t take care with you. Not just because of your past, but because you are lovely and wonderful and you deserve to be—” He leaned in and traced his tongue around her bare nipple. “—worshipped,” he finished.
She arched beneath him, in wonder at all the amazing things this man could make her feel and want and do. Tonight she wanted everything. It might be the only time she experienced such bliss.
There was no turning back from her needs now.
If he sensed that surrender, he made it clear by lifting her breast a little and going back to licking. Sucking. Little bursts of pleasure shot through her every time he did so, mimicking the way her body fluttered when he touched her intimately. This wasn’t release, exactly, but it drew her toward it. Muted pleasure that promised so much more.
“There is nothing like your taste,” he whispered against her skin. “I’ll never forget it.”
She lifted to him, her fingers combing into his hair as he sucked a bit harder, right to the edge of pain, but never over it. Just enough to make her feel alive and wanted and free.
As he pleasured her, he slid a free hand down the apex of her body, stroking his fingers over her bare skin until he came to the drawstring of her pantalettes. He pulled away from her breast and lifted his gaze to hers.
She was shaking. She knew he could feel it. Anticipation pulsed through her, but also anxiousness. Also fear. No matter how long it had been, the fear fluttered back and settled in her chest.
He glanced down, and together they watched his fingers work to untie the bow on the drawstring. With a few expert flicks of his wrist, he untangled the string and let the tension off her waistband. Slowly his hand slid in, over her stomach, across her mound. Her legs opened, granting him access to her sex once more.
He stroked there, sliding the wetness of her body across her sex. “It hurt before,” he said.
She sucked in her breath, trying not to go back to that dark night and the man who had stolen her innocence and her dreams in one cruel act. “Yes,” she admitted.
“It won’t tonight,” he promised. “Tonight is about you and your pleasure. If you trust me, I will make every effort to wipe away the past and make this time, this first time, something you do not regret.”
She gasped as his finger breached her slightly. “I already regret nothing,” she managed to croak out as the pleasure he could so easily generate began to build. “Please, just…just give me this.”
He gently pumped his finger in and out for a few strokes, then pulled away, leaving her body clenching against nothingness. He took himself off the bed and she stared as he unfastened his trousers and shucked them off in one smooth motion.
Her eyes boggled. Half-naked was one thing, fully naked another. She hardly knew where to look. Trim hips? Heavily muscled thighs? Or that thing between his legs. A cock, she’d heard it called. It was hard and jutted toward his stomach.
He said nothing but moved to the bed. He caught the edging of her drawers and tugged them off, tossing them over his shoulder and leaving her as naked as he was.
They stared at each other. His face contained as much wonder as she knew her own did, although a man like him had to have had lovers before. She was merely the next in a line, so why he appeared so enthralled was beyond her.
He moved closer, placing a hand on her calf. He watched her face as he drew his fingers up and up, skin on skin in places where no other person had ever touched her. Now he brought her to life, making her ultra-aware of everything he did to her.