Page 25 of Raked Away in September

“Did I hurt you?” she asked, chagrined.

He shook his head. “No, it felt good. Wrap your hand around it,” he whispered. “I want your touch so badly. It seems like I’ve waited an eternity.”

She did as he asked, and he moaned as she ran her fingertips over him from base to tip, then closed her hand around him and gave him a hesitant stroke. She hadn’t thought it would feel like this. The heft and silkiness of his skin surprised her.

“Like this,” he murmured, wrapping his hand around hers and guiding her in the rhythm he obviously liked. After just a few strokes, he released her hand and leaned back, his beautiful eyes closing as he gave in to the sensation, obviously enjoying it.

She liked pleasing him. She liked it very much. Remembering what the woman at Vauxhall had done, she leaned forward and experimentally kissed the mushroom-shaped head, making his eyes fly open in obvious shock and delight.

“Oh, my darling, you are so sweet, so perfect. And I want that from you… You can’t imagine how much. But it might be too much for your first time.”

He gathered her against him and rolled them both until she was once again on her back, and he was poised above her. This time, though, he rubbed his hot shaft against her slick core, making her gasp and wrap her legs around him, trying to get closer.

“This might hurt a bit, but only this time, and I promise I won’t go any further until you’re ready,” he said, his voice rough with restraint.

She bit her lip and nodded, though she was suddenly nervous, because now that she’d held him in her hand, she worried there was no way he could possibly fit inside her.

Easing back a bit, he pressed the tip of himself to her opening, then eased forward bit by bit until he was fully seated within her. It stung a bit, and she felt impossibly stretched, but it didn’t hurt nearly as much as she’d feared.

“Are you all right?” he asked, peering down at her in concern, though she could feel his big body trembling with his restraint. “Is this too much?”

“I’m all right,” she assured him.

Kissing her deeply, he eased himself back a bit, then pressed forward again. This time, it felt a little better. The full, heavy weight of him and the friction of skin against skin were like nothing she’d ever imagined. He was patient, guiding her with soft words and lingering kisses, until the pain melted into a low, throbbing heat that radiated through her entire body.

As they moved together, Tamsin wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, wanting to absorb him into her. Nothing that Olivia had said could have prepared her for this, the closeness and intimacy of becoming one with another person.

When he eased back a bit, she almost protested, until he reached between them and touched that spot once again with his thumb as he continued to move within her, making the warm tingling start to build within her. But this time, it was even better, because he was inside her, stroking her with such passionate fury, and the combined sensations were simply too much, too raw and powerful to withstand for long.

The culmination was a blurred, breathless shattering of everything she had ever known. She cried out his name, her entire body tightening around him and then releasing. Rowan cried out as well, then collapsed against her, his face buried in the crook of her neck, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm against her chest.

Tamsin lay in the quiet aftermath, holding him tightly, never wanting to let him go. A profound sense of peace washed over her, and she didn’t think she could have moved if the house was on fire. She loved the heavy weight of him, his heat, his scent, the tickle of his hair against her skin. If this was what lovemaking was like, she didn’t understand why everyone wasn’t doing it every minute of every day.

Five minutes or more passed before either of them moved or spoke, but at last he rolled off her, onto his back, though he wrapped his arm around her and pulled until her head came to rest against his chest.

“Is it always like that?” she asked softly, running her fingertips through a whorl of hair on his powerful chest.

He was quiet for so long that a pit of unease formed in her belly. She was so stupid to ask him such a thing. He’d done this act with multitudes of women. How silly of her to think that this time had been anything special. She’d had no idea what she was doing.

“No,” he said at last, sounding deeply unnerved. He put his finger under her chin and tilted her face so he could look into her eyes. “I’ve never felt so… present. Not just physically close but emotionally close as well. You’re my wife, Tamsin. That made it very special.”

Relief flooded through her. She’d needed to hear that more than he could ever know. She hoped he meant it because the emotions flooding through her were too powerful and dangerous to put a name to. He could break her heart so easily.

“I thought it was special, too,” she whispered, finding it hard to hold his intense gaze. “You’re nothing I thought you’d be, Rowan. You’re so much more.”

He laughed softly and finally released her gaze, pressing her cheek against his chest once more. “That might just be the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

She found that sad, and she wished she had the courage to say just a few of things that were in her heart right now. But exhaustion overwhelmed her, and she drifted off to sleep before she could tell him just how special he was to her.

Chapter Thirteen

Tamsin woke to the soft, golden light of autumn filtering through a small gap in the heavy velvet curtains, and memories of the night before filled her with languid happiness. Rowan was still in the bed beside her, his warm skin pressed against hers. He stirred, his eyes opening slowly, and his lips curved in a warm smile.

“Good morning, wife,” he murmured, his voice husky with sleep. It occurred to her that after all these days, she was finally his wife in truth.

“Good morning, husband,” she replied, but any further endearments were cut short by a sudden, frantic commotion from somewhere deep inside the house. Something heavy hit the floor, a child gave a high-pitched shriek, and a woman called out commands with cheerful authority.

Rowan bolted upright, his brow furrowed. “What in the name of⁠—”