to do now? Jonathan had simply ripped off his clothes, then her clothes, tossed her on to the bed and threw himself down beside her.
Will pulled the shirt over his head, dropped it at his feet, flipped back the covers and waited courteously for her to get into bed. ‘Now that is a very piquant contrast,’ he said as he stood and studied her. ‘All that prim white cotton tight around your legs and all that slipping lace up above.’
Julia looked down. Her nervous shifting about had wrapped the nightgown around her legs. Then she looked up at Will. Looked properly and felt dizzy. When she had met him on the bridge that night and had held him in her arms she had felt nothing but skin and bone. Now she was contemplating muscle as defined as that on any classical sculpture of an athlete. Only this was not cold white marble, this was golden tanned skin, a dusting of dark-brown hair, the blue of veins, the nipples so much darker than her own.
Jonathan’s body had not made that much impression on her, she realised. When he had first undressed it had all been so fast she had no time to look at him and afterwards... Afterwards she seemed to recall thinking that he was beautiful. But not with the emotions that looking at this man produced. Better not to think about Jonathan.
It was hard to think about any other man clearly at all with this one so close and so nearly naked.
‘I am all in favour of piquancy,’ she managed, her gaze fixed firmly on his chest and the curls of crisp dark-brown hair.
‘Good,’ Will murmured, ‘because I am intending to leave you nicely wrapped up for a while.’ And while she tried to work out what that meant he slipped open the fastening of his breeches, slid them down his legs and kicked them away. Underneath he was quite naked. And quite magnificently aroused.
Will lay down on his side on the sheet, his body touching hot down the length of her. He propped himself up on one elbow so they were eye to eye, reached out, tugged one of the pillows away and followed her down when she fell back with a little gasp of surprise.
A gasp that left her mouth open, Julia realised as Will leant in and kissed her, his mouth warm and moist and tasting of brandy. The move had been assured and predatory and she found both amazingly arousing.
She had learned from that morning’s kiss and had learned, too, what she liked. If she tangled her tongue with his then Will thrust more deeply, if she closed her lips a little then he would nip and nibble at them. She tried nibbling in return and felt his mouth curve in response. He likes that. She tried a little nip and was rewarded by a growl deep in his throat.
That was encouraging, she thought. He no longer seemed shocked or angry with her. But what now? Jonathan had been fast, and, she was beginning to realise as Will nibbled down the line of her jaw and sucked gently at the base of her throat with leisurely relish, not at all subtle.
She should be doing something seductive, but it was difficult when she was not at all sure what that involved and when her legs were restricted by her twisted nightgown and Will’s arm was effectively pinning hers to the bed.
Julia moaned in frustration and arched up to try to free herself, squashing her breasts against Will, who was nuzzling into her cleavage. The effect was startling. He growled, twisted, seized the collar of her nightgown, ripped it clean down to her waist, then spread the two halves open and stared down at her.
Was something wrong? Why was he looking at her like that? It was her figure, that was it. She was no longer fresh and young and virginal... Just when she could not stand the suspense any longer he bent his head and licked, lavishly, slowly, over her right nipple. And then the left. And back. They went hard and tight and he caught first one, then the other in his teeth and Julia sobbed, arching again, wanting more. He increased the pressure until it was a tiny stab of pain that arrowed into her belly and became something else entirely: heat and weight and need. Then he licked again while his hand took hold of the torn edge of her nightgown and yanked down hard and it tore as far as her knees.
Now he would cover her with his body, push her legs apart, take her. She fought a silent battle with the memories and the fear. It had hurt and Jonathan had not been careful. And Will was very aroused, she knew enough to understand that. Julia tried not to let her apprehension show, tried not to freeze.
But Will kept on tormenting her breasts as he stroked down into the brown curls that were embarrassingly damp. Wet, she thought, shocked, as his fingers parted her and then she forgot to be self-conscious as the strange deep ache got worse and worse and she twisted, pushing up against the heel of his hand.
Am I supposed to feel like this? It was so much more than when she had lost her virginity. Then she had felt a little of this, but not the all-consuming desperate need for something. ‘I want you inside me,’ she gasped, beyond shame. That must be it, that was what her body was clamouring for.
‘Patience,’ Will said and blew on her nipples while his fingers played and teased and suddenly found a point of perfect, shocking pleasure.
‘Will.’
He came to his knees, freed her completely from the nightgown and finally, finally, covered her with his body. But his fingers did not stop their torment and everything was tightening into an impossibly tangled knot and she did not know how she could bear it.
‘Julia. Look at me.’ Will’s voice was husky and she dragged open her eyes and stared into the amber heat of his. ‘Are you all right?’
‘No! No, I’m not...I can’t bear it. Please...’ She had no idea what she wanted, only that she needed him inside her and his weight on her and his mouth on hers. And by some miracle he understood her incoherent plea. He lowered himself, speared his fingers into her hair, drove with his hips and filled her in one long, hard thrust. Everything unravelled, broke apart as she heard herself scream, felt her body close, tight, on Will as he moved and then he froze, shuddered under her clutching hands and collapsed on to her body.
* * *
Selfish bastard, Will thought as his brain stopped spinning. He lay pillowed on Julia’s sweet warmth and contemplated her lover, the one she had eloped with, the one who had not, apparently, thought to give her any pleasure at all while he took what he wanted.
She had been as ignorant of what her own body could experience as a virgin. He smiled into the crook of her neck and lipped gently at the warm skin. Her arms were still around him and he became aware of the gentle movement of her fingers. She was stroking his shoulders lightly, as if exploring, like someone blind reaching out to map their world with their fingertips.
Had she any idea how seductive that innocence was? How sensual and responsive he found her? Of course not. Which was a very good thing, he decided, as he reached out a hand and pulled the covers over them. If she had any idea, then she would use it against him, use her feminine power to try to weaken and undermine him. It was bad enough having her fight him for control of every aspect of the estate without her deciding she could seduce him into letting her carry on being master here. Not that it would work.
Still, it was a pleasure how she had reacted to him. And fortunate, because after all those long months of celibacy he found it a miracle he had held out against his climax as long as he had. The next time—which had better be soon, he thought with a wry grin—would be even better. He was looking forward to teaching Julia the arts of love.
His harsh words when he had accused her of being another man’s mistress, of lying about her lack of experience, came back to deliver a sharp jab to his conscience. Her story had obviously been true and he must make that up to her. If only he did not have this nagging instinct that she was still not being completely honest with him.
God, this is comfortable. I must be squashing her. He rolled off the soft fragrant body cushioning his so uncomplainingly and gathered her into his arms. She came with a little sigh, snuggled up against his chest and went quite limp. Asleep. It was endearingly trustful, the way she simply let go, just as she had on that strange wedding night so long ago. He should slide out of bed now, let her rest, go back to his own chamber. In a minute...
* * *
Her right arm had gone to sleep and there was a warm