Page 53 of Marriage with a Proper Stranger

Words failed her. His light blue eyes glowed with sapphire fire. She nodded, her breath coming in short gasps as every part of her body throbbed with yearning. Heavens. He was falling for her. The prospect thrilled her to her toes. She returned the sentiment a hundredfold, but could not put voice to it yet, for her deep-rooted vulnerability bade caution.

“We must trust each other. Without trust, there cannot be…love.” He took her hand and laid it flat against his chest. His heart pounded fiercely under her palm. “Do not allow my confession to scare you. Let us discover. Open our hearts. Bare our souls.”

A lump of emotion lodged in her throat as her eyes welled with tears. His passionately spoken words moved her. “Yes,” she whispered. “Discover.”

“Once I climb into the bath, I wish for you to continue to touch me,” he murmured. An image formed in her mind, of him standing before her completely naked. What was the word in the bold seduction book? Resplendent. How it fit Riordan. “And wash all my bits,” he winked, using her jesting words from their marriage night. “If you wish, grab my shaft and stroke me to completion.” His heart sped up, as did hers. Her cheeks flushed red-hot. “Have I shocked you? Disgusted you?”

How surprising to find he hadn’t. “No. Not at all.”

Still grasping her hand, he slid it down his torso until it lay on his erection straining against the fall of his trousers. “This part of me is not a weapon, nor a means to hurt and humiliate. This part of me will bring you pleasure. I will not brutalize or hurt you. Instead, I’ll show you how desire can enhance existing emotions. We’ll move forward at your pace. Any time you wish to stop, say the word.” He squeezed their hands, and the thickness of him caused her to moan. “Shall we begin?”

“Yes. Begin.”

Riordan kissed her hand, then stood. He turned on his heel and headed to the door, opened it, then stepped outside, no doubt to fetch the copper tub. She quickly gathered the dishes and hurried to the kitchen. After placing them on the sideboard, she grasped the edge of the counter, trying to catch her breath.

Sabrina was aroused, and relieved to find that what Riordan described had not filled her with abhorrence. Images of the past tried to push into her mind—Pepperdon’s cold hands roughly grasping her breasts. Him forcing his…his—he called it a cock—into her mouth until she choked. No. The contemptible earl would not ruin this evening, nor dominate her thoughts. Be gone, you miserable reprobate. I no longer fear you. Taking gulps of air, she exhaled as she primed the pump. Locating the kettle, she filled it with water and placed in on the stove.

Unfortunately, she did not know how to light it yet. Riordan entered, efficiently lit the stove, filled a bucket, and carried it to the parlor. Together they filled the tub with a mixture of cool water from the pump and hot water from the stove. The copper tub stood in front of the fire. Mittens, who had awakened during all the activity, sauntered off to Sabrina’s room, no doubt to continue her nap undisturbed.

They faced each other. “Take off my clothes,” Riordan said, his voice as rough as sandpaper. Sabrina stepped closer. He’d already removed his frock coat before supper. Her trembling fingers fumbled with his neckcloth. Once unknotted, she tossed it aside.

Next, his waistcoat. After slipping the brass buttons through the holes, she pushed it from his shoulders, but not before trailing her hands across his broad chest. Muscle flexed under her touch. The garment dropped to the floor. Then she concentrated on his shirt. It was finely made, with porcelain buttons and a high collar. The material soft to the touch. Cotton perhaps?

Pushing the sides of his unbuttoned shirt, she gazed at his bare chest. He did not wear an undershirt—how scandalous. How delicious. Delineated planes of taut muscle hugged his torso, swirls of curly black hair spread across his chest and around his nipples. They were as hard as hers. She flicked one with the pad of her thumb and Riordan shuddered, a low groan escaping his throat.

Slowly and with concentrated purpose, she slid his shirt from his shoulders, her hands moving across his muscled biceps. With the tip of her finger, she followed a prominent vein that ran along the length of his arm. His skin, silky and warm to the touch, made her insides flutter with anticipation. “You are…well-made.” Sabrina took her time, trailing her hands across his chest and down his arms. Pulling his shirt from his shoulders, she admired the view. Never had she seen a man her own age in such a state of undress. She’d had no idea a man could look like this: masculine, muscular. Enticing.

The garment hung at his elbows, then Riordan straightened his arms and allowed it to fall to the floor next to the waistcoat. Stunning specimen. Thankfully, he looked nothing like Pepperdon, which helped to further banish past memories.

Once she looked her fill, Sabrina all but threw herself at him, giving him a fierce embrace as she’d done before. Her breasts, already full and heavy, smashed against his bare chest. He stood absolutely still, but took sharp breaths as she reached behind him and traced the valley of his spine and explored his muscled back. Inhaling his masculine, musky scent, she moaned, completely lost in sensations.

His trousers were next. Not a weapon. He will not hurt me. Repeating the phrases over and over until she gathered her courage, she released Riordan and took two steps in reverse.

As she reached for the waistband, he clasped her hand, halting her. “Wait.”

Sabrina gazed up at him. “I’m ready to do this.”

He gave her a sensual smile. “I am gratified to hear it. Only I should remove my boots and stockings first.”

“Oh. Of course.” She returned his smile with a shy one of her own. Riordan sat on the chair and quickly removed the items. Lord. Even his bare feet were elegant, if feet could be described as such. He jumped up and faced her. “Please, continue.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. “Please.” The pleading tone in his voice sent sparks along her nerve endings.

“Since you asked politely.” She pulled her hand from his and with rapid efficiency undid the buttons of his fall. Steady on. Without hesitating, she gave his wool trousers a tug until they dropped to the floor. All he wore was his drawers. There was no denying his arousal, as his shaft lay thick and heavy and clearly outlined against him. Curious, she grasped him, and he released a low rumble sounding suspiciously like an animal growl. The heat emanating from his shaft set the palm of her hand on fire.

Oh, she wanted to hear that wild sound again. She squeezed him and ran her hand along his length and was rewarded with another husky groan. His bath was growing cold. Grasping the waistband of the silk drawers, she gave them a yank and they pooled at his feet. Riordan stepped out of them and kicked them aside.

Every nerve ending in her body crackled with awareness. Drinking in his form, Sabrina’s intense gaze scanned him head to toe and back again. How wonderful it must be to be completely confident in one’s own skin. Broad shoulders tapered to a slim waist and lean, muscular hips.

Shamelessly, her gaze slid to the most masculine part of him. He was hard; his shaft stood straight up on his stomach. It was part of Riordan, and because of that she did not fear it. “Shall you climb into the bath so I can…wash you?” Her own voice was hoarse, her own arousal plain to hear.

“All is well, Sabrina?”

Bless him, he looked genuinely concerned. “More than well.”

He sat in the tub, leaning against the back of it. Though the tub was large, he could not stretch out his long legs. Instead, he bent them at the knees. Resting his arms on the sides of the tub, he motioned his head toward the table. “The soap and flannel are there.”

She lifted the soap to her nose and inhaled. Yes. All Riordan. The lime and bergamot scent she adored. Sitting in the chair Riordan had placed next to the tub, she dipped the soap and flannel into the warm water. Already her body thrummed with sensual alertness; if she continued to touch and caress him she would surely combust. Besides a lone oil lamp, the fire cast the only illumination in the parlor, making Riordan’s skin glow with a golden luminescence.

With slow circles, she scrubbed his chest, trailing the lathered cloth across his shoulders and down his arms. Riordan closed his eyes, as if reveling in her touch. Sabrina continued for several moments, enjoying the quiet intimacy they shared. “Lean forward.”