The Christmas Heiress (23 page)

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Authors: Adrienne Basso

BOOK: The Christmas Heiress
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Her soft eager whimpers turned to sobs as his
tongue plunged rhythmically into her, her breath
grew rapid and harsh, her hands desperately
clutched at his hair. She arched upward, offering
more of herself, and he increased the tempo of his
strokes until she began to shudder uncontrollably. A
second later she cried out in release, her hips jerking
hard against his lips and tongue.

He was entranced, feeling her shiver under his onslaught, knowing he was bringing her pleasure. His
breath coming fast and urgent, Edward rose up on
his knees. It took everything he had to stay in control.

"Touch me, Charlotte," he groaned. "Feel how
much I want you." Almost roughly, he took her
hand and guided it toward his erection.

She ran her fingers over it. He jerked at her
touch, then pushed against her palm. He taught her the movement that pleased him, then allowed
her hand to explore and stroke.

"Tighter," he whispered, moaning at the exquisite sensations her fingers produced. "Harder."
-- - - - - - -- - -- - -- -

Her hand tightened on his penis and it throbbed
in her palm. The pleasure was so intense it was
almost painful. Edward rolled himself on top of
her, parted her legs and settled himself between
them. Still not penetrating her, he slid his throbbing cock back and forth between her upper
thighs. With every movement she moaned loudly
and rocked against him. She was ready, more than
ready, and he knew he had better complete the act
or else he would disgrace himself.

Edward shifted himself above her, pushed her
legs wider apart with his knee, then carefully guided
himself inside the wet heat of her body. She was relaxed from her earlier orgasm, but he soon reached
the barrier of her virginity. He had known it was
there, of course, but the tightness sent a scorching
heat through his blood.

He pushed gently and she moaned softly with
pleasure. Encouraged by her response, he thrust a
little deeper, bringing himself again against the
firm barrier. He knew he had to slow down, had to
make this good for her, but it was difficult to think
rationally with his emotions and passions riding at
such a fevered pitch.

Gripping her hips, Edward held her in place,
hoping to allay the initial pain by inching in slowly.
Charlotte lifted her head and began showering
kisses on his upper arms and his control snapped.
Her flesh resisted, but he pushed upward, stretching the soft tissue until it broke, burrowing deeper until
he was fully inside.

For a long moment he did not move, reveling instead in the powerful joy of their being one, joined together in the most basic, primal act of man and
woman. She looked up at him, dazed. His gaze locked
with hers. Her eyes were dark with wonder and passion and an emotion so keen he dared not imagine
what it meant.

"Charlotte." He leaned down and brushed his
lips against hers. "You are the most perfect woman
I have ever known."

"You are the only man I have ever known," she
murmured softly. "And that makes me enormously
happy."

"Ah, but there is so much more to experience,"
he replied with a wicked chuckle.

Edward surged forward, propelling himself all
the way inside her, then withdrawing to the tip. He
repeated the motion over and over until she was
panting and straining against him, grabbing his
shoulders for leverage, tilting her hips eagerly
upward, driving her pelvis hard against his.

Fascinated, he watched her face as he thrust back
and forth, driving himself into her heat, marveling
not only at the physical sensations of pleasure, but
the emotional joy that brought an unexpected and
profound dimension to the moment.

Wanting to savor every second, Edward slowed his
movements, propped himself up with both hands
flat on the carpet, then looked down at where they
were joined together.

The sight of his swollen cock impaling her raised his
passion to an almost frenzied level. His rhythm became urgent again, his voice cried out in a sound of
triumph as he filled her, pleasured her, claimed her.

"Does that feel good?" he asked, changing the
way he moved, using the hardness of his body and
the strength of his thrusts to stroke her most sensitive area.

"'Tis glorious," she panted. Her eyes squeezed
shut, her nostrils flared, her breath came in great,
gulping gasps.

"Look at me, Charlotte," he commanded.

Gradually, she opened her eyes. They were
glazed, unfocused as they stared into his. She
looked utterly abandoned and incredible lovely.
Though she was not seeing him, he knew she was
aware of every breath he took, every powerful move
of his body.

Edward was still watching her when he felt the
wild ripple that shook her body as her orgasm
began, as she bucked and writhed beneath him,
her naked cries of pleasure echoing through the
silent room. It made him fight harder to keep his
own release in check, even as the urgent hunger
inside him threatened to explode.
-- - --- -- - - - - - - - -

He held her quaking body tightly and continued
his careful thrusts, prolonging the pleasure for her as
long as possible. Then her body started spasming
wildly, her inner warmth squeezing tightly around his
cock, pushing his craving for release over the edge.

Crushing her to his chest, he began to thrust harder
and faster, racing toward fulfillment. He focused on
the tension, increasing the rhythm that ran through
him like wildfire, kissing Charlotte madly, as though he
could not get enough of her. His mouth burrowed into her hair, pushing it aside so he could suckle at the
delicate pulse at her neck.

She arched her back, shuddered in his arms and
tipped her head sideways to allow him whatever he
wanted, whatever he craved. Edward's muscles turned
to stone, sweat drenched him and then he began to
quake and shudder. His entire being was caught in
the grip of this blissful, profound union. With a groan
of indescribable pleasure, Edward's passion peaked
and his seed spewed from his cock in a hot, potent
stream.

The raw rush of pleasure exceeded anything he
had ever felt before. Collapsing to the side, he
buried his face in her shoulder, his fingers clutching her breast possessively, their bodies still joined.
Dazed, Edward listened to the sound of their harsh
breathing as the pleasure slowly faded.

Fearing he was crushing her, Edward move to
withdraw, then felt Charlotte's hands clinging to his
shoulders.

"Stay, please. Do not leave me yet."

Filled with languid, blissful pleasure, he acquiesced to her demands. When the heat of their
bodies began to cool, he cuddled her against his
chest, threading his fingers through the fine locks
of her hair. Her breathing became slow and even,
and though exhaustion also claimed him, Edward
did not succumb.

His mind was too restless to sleep, his emotions
too raw to be quiet. Though not a large number,
there had been other women in his life, women
with whom he had shared a physical relationship
for weeks, even months at a time.

Yet never before had he felt this way with any female. He was unsure if it was because Charlotte had
been a virgin or because their mating was a spontaneous moment of unbridled passion, or if the illicit,
forbidden aspect of their coupling heightened the
level of excitement.

Edward's jaw tensed as he realized it would serve
no useful purpose to search for an explanation, because the reason, or reasons, were unimportant.
The notion was strangely liberating, as if allowing
him for once to just feel and not think. To be
honest with himself and acknowledge that this was
truly the most extraordinary night of his life.

Charlotte must have dozed for a time, sated and
content, for when she opened her eyes the candles
were burned low, the fire in the grate all but gone.
She lay peacefully within the circle of Edward's
arms, listening to his soft, rhythmic breathing, marveling at how comfortable, how natural it all felt.

Edward's lovemaking had been more overwhelming than she had ever imagined and the strength of
her longing for him was a mysterious delight, something to be pondered and thought over in the
coming days.

There were a great many questions to ask each
other, but tomorrow would be time enough for
thinking and considering and deciding. Tonight
was for reveling in the moment, for rejoicing in the
experience.

"We cannot remain here all night," he murmured.

Charlotte nodded her head in agreement, though
in truth she felt a stab of disappointment at his pronouncement. It was a bit lowering to acknowledge that the first words he spoke to her after this profound, life-altering event were so impersonal. It
seemed that the wild, bold, impulsive lover of her
dreams had vanished and the sensible, practical Earl
of Worthington had returned.

With rioting emotions Charlotte watched him put
on his shirt and trousers, leaving both unfastened.
Their clothes were everywhere, strewn on the carpet
in a reckless, abandoned manner. He retrieved her
dressing gown, then helped her into it, tying the
sash securely at her waist. Once they were both wearing something, he gathered up her torn nightgown
and the remainder of his clothing and stuffed them
into her hands.

"You carry these," he commanded. "And I will
carry you.

Before she could even digest his words, Edward
scooped her up in his arms and headed for the
door. He re-positioned her to one side as he unlocked the chamber with one hand, then using his
foot, he kicked open the door and stepped into the
hallway.

He glanced both ways before taking another step,
she assumed to ensure that there was no one about,
even at this very late hour.

"Lurking and prowling about the house is far
more difficult with a house full of guests," he whispered, as if reading her thoughts.

"It would be easier if you put me down. I am perfectly capable of walking," she answered.

He shook his head. "I like the way you feel in my
arms.

That was certainly welcome news. "You are very strong," she said, clinging to his neck as he ascended
the stairs.

He grinned. "I feel as though I have the strength
of ten men tonight."

Her brow lifted indignantly. "Are you implying it
takes ten men to lift and carry me, sir?"

"At least. Precisely how many helpings of dessert
did you have this evening?"

"Three very large portions," she lied, pressing
her full body length wickedly against his.

"Stop wiggling or I shall drop you," he said in a
commanding tone, yet his voice was colored with
amusement.

"If I hit the floor I shall scream very loudly," she
retorted, running her fingers through his hair.

He flexed the muscles of his forearms, but held
her rock-steady. Charlotte lifted her chin and stole
a quick taste of his lips.

"Stop kissing me or else I really will drop you."

"Well, since it would be my fault for distracting
you, I will not scream, though I daresay the noise of
me thudding onto the stairs would bring the servants running."

"It is not the servants we need worry about," he
replied. "If they saw us, they would say nothing, nor
tell anyone else."

"To keep their positions."

"Partially." He reached the top of the stairs,
lengthening his stride as he turned down a long
hallway. "But they would hold their tongues out of
respect and regard for me."

Though a somewhat boastful statement, it was not
made in that manner. "'Tis true, I have noticed that
the staff admires you greatly," Charlotte agreed.

"Must you sound so shocked? I am a very likable
fellow, you know."

Warm in the circle of his arms, Charlotte toyed
with his shirt buttons. "I suppose there are certain
things about you that can be nearly irresistible."

His heated gaze swept over her. "Only nearly irresistible? Not overwhelming irresistible?"

She made a scoffing sound in the back of her
throat, enjoying their teasing banter, yet determined to maintain the upper hand. It would hardly
do to let him know how truly irresistible he was to
her at this moment, though the fact that she had
just surrendered her virginity to him should give
him a rather clear indication.

He reached the doorway of her bedchamber,
kicked it open, then carried her across the room and
set her gently on the bed. He left her to lock the
door before going to the washstand. Curious, she
watched him pour water from a small jug into a
porcelain basin. He dipped a cloth into the water
and wrung it out.

Returning to the bed, he sat beside Charlotte.
She shifted uneasily, suspecting what he intended.
"I can do it myself," she insisted, reaching for the
cloth.

"I know," he said, pressing the cloth between her
thighs, causing her to jerk in response. "But it is my
privilege as your lover to minister to you and I
intend to assert my rights."

He sounded so determined, so concerned, that
the majority of her embarrassment evaporated.
Charlotte nodded her head in silent agreement. She
lay back and tried to relax, but it was difficult to feel
completely at ease. At least the chamber was bathed in semi-darkness, with only the moonlight from the
open drapes and the glow of the low-burning
fireplace to illuminate it.

"I am sorry it's so cold," he murmured as he tenderly bathed her flesh and washed away the traces
of his seed and her virginal blood. "If it is truly unbearable I can ring for my valet to bring hot water.
It won't take long."

"There's no need, since you are nearly done," she
replied.

He leaned forward and kissed the tip of her nose,
then returned to the washstand. Using the same
cloth and the rest of the water, he cleansed himself.
"Do you want me to help you change into a clean
nightgown?"

"No. I am going to be exceedingly wicked and
sleep without one," Charlotte announced. She
untied the sash of her wrapper and slid between the
sheets of the large bed, shivering at how cold it had
become in her absence. "Will you stay with me?"

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