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He ruthlessly reined in his impatience. He had been attracted to the woman since the moment they met, but he’d never imagined her to have been untouched. It explained so much about his fascination with her. She might have been married for half a dozen years, but he’d bet her spouse had never laid a finger on her.

Which meant that Merrick couldn’t rush this. He had to prepare her properly. She was utterly terrified and yet utterly determined to be seduced. He couldn’t risk botching the job or he’d never get another chance to have her in his arms.

He smoothed his hands down her back, feeling her curves beckoning him to strip her naked again. Removing her outer garments had been his way to level the field and give her time to adjust to intimacy, but he’d gone too far too fast. He’d covered her in his robe as a means of reassurance. At least now she’d ceased trembling.

He broke the kiss and moved his lips to her neck, nibbling a path across her flawless skin. Such soft, delicate flesh deserved every consideration. He kissed just below her ear and then concentrated on removing the ribbons from her hair. Once freed the blonde tresses cascaded down to the middle of her back.

He combed his fingers through her hair, catching the odd snarl and then smoothing it. He wanted Arabella so much he ached. Still, one could not rush a virgin into bed. He wouldn’t want her to regret her faith in him. He could scarcely believe she had come to him in the first place, and he wasn’t so foolish as to send her away unsatisfied.

He smiled at her, saw the same dreamy expression she’d worn the first time they’d kissed, and brushed his lips over the tip of her nose. “Come sit with me.” He caught her fingers and drew her to the settee.

She settled primly beside him, appearing uncertain of herself again. Did she really expect him to have just thrown her over his bed and be done with her already? “What did you do after dinner?”

“Not very much at all.” She sighed when he leaned into her and nibbled her throat. “Was Holland’s news urgent?”

“Not really.” Holland had lectured him about Arabella again until Merrick had confessed to his change of mind about the urgency of marriage. He wanted to see what came of a longer friendship with Arabella before he hunted for a wife again. “I swear that man should have been a woman the way he fusses.”

“He is very fond of you.”

“And of course I am so very lovable.” He laughed as he removed his footwear and flexed his toes. He wanted Arabella comfortable with nudity, hers and his. He planned to explore every inch of her lush body, and it would certainly not be under the cover of a comforter. He would coax her lustful impulses and hope she enjoyed his.

She smoothed her hands over his banyan, straightening what didn’t need straightening. Merrick removed the pin from his cravat and tossed it carelessly behind him. Holland would find it in the morning. There would be little chance of hiding what he was about to do anyway. Merrick untied his cravat. “Have you written to Grayling and his wife yet?”

“Not yet. Grayling will be sorry to have missed you.”

He shrugged, finished removing his cravat, and dropped it to the floor. “I will catch Gray another time or he will catch me in London.”

When Arabella smiled, a little of her tension seemed to slip away. He moved closer and set his lips to her neck again. Her spine arched and a soft moan left her lips.

Merrick cupped the other side of her face. “Enough of tomorrow. What will come will come.”

He kissed her lips when she turned her face to his. He brushed his thumb over the smooth curve of her dewy, soft cheek as he deepened the kiss, using his tongue to induce further pleasure. Her response was to clutch at his shirt and pull him closer. Merrick quickly shifted her onto his lap and plundered her mouth, listening to the little whimpers she uttered. Pleasing Arabella was the one thing that mattered tonight. He would face the rest tomorrow.

He cupped her breast gently in the palm of his hand, noticing the way she stiffened against the intimate touch and treasuring her response all the more. Truly untouched. He thrilled to know he would be her first lover. He had never expected that.

Merrick slowly thumbed her nipple, brushing over the peak until it pebbled. When she pushed her chest into his hand, he squeezed and massaged her, all the while giving in to the impulse to indulge in never-ending kisses.

She had a mouth made to be kissed. Sweet, lush, and hungry like his. He slowly removed his hand from her breast and stroked down her body. She tensed again when he touched her hip and he lingered there a long while, allowing her to grow used to the pressure.

When her hands threaded through his hair, he progressed down her leg, caught the bottom of the banyan, and lifted it until he touched her bare knee. Arabella broke the kiss and squeezed her eyes shut, her breath a fast pant against his cheek.

He stroked up her calf. “You have lovely legs. It is a pity ladies’ fashions hide them from proper admiration.”

She drew back, stared at him, and then buried her face in his throat with a laugh. “My whole life I have wanted to be short.”

Merrick smiled at her mood. Playfulness in bed was preferable to terror. “You are the perfect height. Never doubt that.” He raised his hand higher, sliding it under the banyan she wore, letting her warmth brand his fingers. When he touched softer skin, he paused. Smooth, slim thighs greeted him. But they were firmly pressed together.

Determined to proceed, he sought her mouth and when she kissed him in return and relaxed again, he took the opportunity to part her thighs. She squeaked a protest, but he continued, sliding his hand up her inner thigh until he reached the apex. Damp curls brushed his fingertips and he lingered, knowing he was the first to touch her there.

The experience was heady and he drew back to look into her face, to memorize the moment. She looked so surprised that he kissed her cheek. “Sweetheart, I cannot wait to bring you pleasure.”

Her hand settled against his chest, her fingers playfully twisting into the light dusting of hair revealed by his parted shirt. “And how will you do that?”

“Wait and see.”

He nudged her thighs wider and then stroked between her legs. Arabella jerked away, but he soothed her with inarticulate words and brushed against her a little more firmly. She was wet, but she likely didn’t know why. Poor darling. He’d soon show her the pleasure he could give. He stroked his fingers along her sensitive skin, catching the twist of her hips when he neared her clitoris.

He focused there, softly at first but returning again and again with firmer pressure until she was sobbing, churning her sex against him. He paused to probe her entrance with the tip of his finger and then alternated the pressure so she’d grow accustomed to his invasion.

The tension in her thighs softened and allowed greater access. His fingers slipped through her moisture easily, and encouraged, he kissed her brow. “Ready for more?”

Arabella nodded quickly as he slowly pressed one finger inside her tight confines. She squirmed, clearly unnerved by his actions. As he teased her, repeating the movement, he brushed his thumb over her clitoris, bringing her deeper into her desires. Merrick increased his movements, listening to the rasp of her breathing, enjoying the scrape of her fingertips against his chest, and finally the sudden tension that clamped her body around his finger. Her breath hitched as she experience her first release of the night.

Merrick stilled the movements of his hand but laid it over her mound. “There now. Isn’t that better?”