Page 35 of Wed By Proxy

“Don’t cover up on my account,” he said gruffly, and almost swore. She sank back into her seat, staring fixedly down at her plate. He closed his eyes briefly as his mind raced with how to make reparation for his ineptness. He was so badly rattled at this point that he could only think of honesty. “You’re very beautiful,” he said abruptly. “I’m just not used to such company. In truth, I’m overwhelmed by it.”

She gasped and looked up at that, their gazes clashing. Whatever she saw in his eyes seemed to embolden her, for she squared her shoulders and smiled again, her dimples flashing at him from her cheeks. Gods, that smile. He felt dazzled and befuddled by it. He longed to kiss that mouth, those pretty lips right now. He had never wanted anything so badly before in his life. She would taste of wine and sweet, sweet woman, he just knew it. He’d never craved sweet before. He’d never had sweet. He couldn’t remember now what kind of women he’d squandered his youth chasing, but they had been the wrong sort. They had never made him feel like this, such savage longing and need.

He glanced down at his half-consumed plate with a frown. He didn’t want food. How the hells, was he even going to get through this meal? He had no earthly clue. Suddenly she gave a squeak, and jumped up out of her seat.

“What is—?” he didn’t even get the chance to finish his sentence before she dropped down into his lap. He drew a shocked breath.

“Oh Guy,” she trembled almost violently in his lap. “I—I think I saw a mouse.”

He stared at her uncomprehendingly. Her words barely registered. He just knew her sweet, fragrant, practically naked little body was pressed against his, her hands resting lightly on his chest, her flowerlike face turned up to his. He gazed at her lips, just inches from his. He needed a taste. Just a swift, fleeting taste. She would not refuse him, a starving man. She was far too kind.

With a moan, he pressed his lips to hers, his hands landing on her waist and gripping her there, convulsively. She gave a muffled sound of surprise, but then surged forward with an enthusiasm that stole all breath from his body. Her arms wound around his neck and she clasped him to her with a willingness that made his mind go blank. When his brain stuttered to a start again, moments later, he found they were both still melded together, their lips sealed in a kiss such as childhood sweethearts might share. He felt himself quiver, though how such an innocent kiss could fire up his blood to this extent, he knew not at all!

Her lips were so soft, it made his insides turn over. Her eyes drifted shut and she sighed against his lips. He felt himself tense. She liked this. She wanted more of this. In that case, he needed to steel himself to give it to her. No matter how much he hungered to deepen their kiss, to swipe an arm across the table, clearing it of its fare, and throw her down on it and devour her instead! Instinctively he knew she was not ready for that. She would be scared by his desire if she knew how it raged inside him. He needed to reign it in, and take it slow.

She shifted on his lap, and he winced. He had been hard since she shrugged off her damn blanket, but he needed to put her needs first. He was damned lucky she was even letting his clumsy hands touch her precious little body. He forced himself to relax his grip on her waist, then cursed when his hands shifted down to trace the flare of her hips as if they had a will of their own. Abruptly he wrenched back his head to draw a ragged breath. She gazed up at him, through half closed eyelids.

“Guy,” she whispered. “Please.”

“Anything,” he found himself answering shakily.

“Please don’t stop.”

He swore filthily, and she didn’t even murmur a reproof. Just stared at his lips in unspoken invitation.

“I don’t know how long I can do this,” he confessed, his voice raw. Already without conscious thought, his hands were sliding down around her sweet little rounded backside. He wasn’t good at sweet. He squeezed her buttocks through the silky scarlet fabric, wondering what her bare skin would feel like there. He already knew it would be soft and plump, a pleasing contrast to her slightness elsewhere.

“Just a while longer,” she pleaded, and unable to resist, he crushed his lips to hers. Already, gentle is going out of the window, he thought with a regretful pang. She moaned against his mouth, but didn’t part her lips. Gods, he wished she would. He had thought only moments ago he would pass out from the sweetness of her lips alone, but now he wanted a taste of that mouth. Like the filthy beast he was, he drew his tongue along the seam of her lips and felt her gasp right the way through his body. Her open-mouthed surprise was too good an opportunity to miss. His tongue sought out hers, and when he found it, the kiss exploded. Gods, this was all that mattered.

This was his. He reveled in the sensation, his body reeling at the pleasure that flooded him. Her arms tightened about his neck, and for a moment, he paused, to check there was no hesitation, no alarm on her part. Then he felt one hand slide up the nape of his neck and tangle in his hair there, gripping him tight. No, she wasn’t asking to be let loose. Thank the gods. He ravished her mouth, the kiss turned carnal. He stroked his tongue against hers, no longer coaxing, but demanding. She shuddered, and angled her head the other way.

With a jolt of shock, he realized she was now squirming in his lap in such a way that was exciting him beyond all reason. Would she move like that on his cock? Gods! He could scarcely imagine the pleasure that would give him. He felt almost wild at the notion.

Seizing her hips, he dragged her across his lap, to where such movements would maximize his pleasure. She stilled a moment, and drew back her head, her eyes very wide. They regarded each other, panting hard.

“Is that—?” she ventured. Words seemed to fail her.

He cleared his throat. “Should we stop?”

Her answer was a swift cry, “No!”

“Mathilde—” But she forestalled his words by grabbing one of his hands between hers and lifting it with great daring to her bosom. He sat very still as she placed his large paw over the rapid rise and fall of her breasts. Now he lost the ability of speech, as he closed his hard, callused hand upon the soft swell of flesh there. “My gods,” he whispered.

She stared into his face, breathlessly, as if unsure what happened next. He bit back a pained smile, and slid his fingers beneath the scrap of silk defending her modesty there. Her little nipples were hard as beads. He dragged the fabric down to her waist, exposing the pink tips to his greedy gaze.

“Gods!” he whispered again, and adding his second hand, cupped her perfect little breasts, trapping her nipples between his fingers and squeezing them gently there. Mathilde arched her back and closed her eyes with a breathy moan. As soon as her questioning gaze was extinguished, Guy bent his head and traced her nipples with a swirling tongue. Mathilde cried out again, and he drew them into his mouth, one after the other, sucking greedily. She shivered at that, and started to move again in his lap. He drew a shaky breath. Did she realize how much she was stimulating him?

Unable to resist, he dropped his hands down to her thighs, clasping her there and pulling her roughly where he needed the friction. After only the tiniest hesitation, she started to grind against the hard swell of his cock, and Guy gritted his teeth to withstand the fierce pleasure it gave him. If we were naked, I could be inside her right now, he thought with a shudder. Imagining the tight clasp of her body, had him almost spending in his breeches.

XVII

Something clicked into place inside Mathilde’s brain. Now this position was almost like the one where the lusty widow sat astride Sir Pelemon! So when Guy pulled her flush against his… her mind paused, unsure of the vocabulary. The evidence of his arousal, she supplied in lieu of anything else, and urged her to move against it… It was almost as if they were mimicking the act, but with their clothes on! She flushed at her deductive reasoning, and bit her lip. If only she wasn’t wearing the remnants of the scarlet dress, she thought ruefully glancing down at where it puddled at her waist. The tops of her arms and breasts were entirely bare. Wickedly, she had removed her shift earlier and was completely naked underneath it. How could she make this work?

Guy’s hot mouth was at her breasts again, tormenting and teasing her. She didn’t know how to move to the next stage, and after the thrilling baring of her breasts, he did not seem to be in a hurry to bare anything else. She trembled violently.

Oh, how she longed to unlace his tunic at the strong column of his neck and slide her hands against his naked chest. But her stupid tight sleeves were shoved down to her elbows, trapping her upper arms to her sides. She could almost weep with frustration. Earlier, she thought, when she had wound her fingers into Guy’s hair and pulled at its roots, she had been able to guide him to deepen their kiss. She flushed hot at the memory of the giddy rush of power she had felt. But with her arms trapped she couldn’t maneuver him at all, and he seemed entirely riveted to her exposed bosom.

Her nipples were so sensitive now, she could hardly bear it. With a gasp, she remembered that morning, when she had felt his crisp chest hair against them. It had felt so good.