"No…" The word was a breathless gasp as his thumb moved slowly over the sensitive crest, circling and teasing.
Aurora shut her eyes, giving in to the pleasure he was determined to rouse in her. His warm, commanding mouth returned to claim hers as he gently tormented her aching breasts, leaving her whole body fiery with shame and excitement.
She was scarcely aware when he slowly drew up the hem of her gown or when he reached beneath the edge of her chemise. But then his stroking palm moved higher, brushing the soft, swollen flesh at the apex there, lingering.
Aurora went rigid. When she tried clamping her knees together, he insinuated his hand even deeper between her thighs.
He was breathing deeply, his lashes a dark sweep against his tanned face as he cajoled in a husky voice, "Open your legs for me, siren, and let me touch you."
Unable to deny him, she did as she was bid. Coaxing her further, he stroked the soft curling thatch of her womanhood. A moist, aching weakness pulsed to life in the secret place between her legs. She felt so strange, melting, throbbing… Instinctively she whimpered and arched her back, longing for some fulfillment that seemed to elude her.
Yet he seemed to know exactly what she wanted, needed. With exquisite care, his finger slipped between her cleft lips and penetrated her.
She gasped into his mouth, but he continued his tender assault, exploring, probing, learning her secrets. He was wooing her, his fingers sheathed in her pulsing warmth while the rough pad of his thumb brushed the now slick bud of her femininity.
She clutched at his shoulders, not certain she could bear any more, but he went on stroking, surging and withdrawing rhythmically, driving her on to greater heights, until instinctively her hips lifted and sought to match his pace.
Almost desperate now, she moaned and twisted under his hand, the coiled tension inside her growing more urgent with every stroke that rubbed against the bright center of sensation. All she knew was the devastating heat of his mouth on hers, the hot pounding of her blood, the fierce delight of what he was doing to her.
Suddenly the pleasure was too keen, too fierce to be borne. Frantic, she writhed beneath his possessive hand, yet the glowing spark grew till it seemed to shower her with burning embers. Aurora felt wave after wave of hot, shameful sensation wash over her helpless body.
His hand rose to cradle her throat, soothing her thundering pulse beat, while his mouth feathered kisses over her flushed face.
A long moment passed before the sensual reverberations waned. Her limbs felt weak, limp, her senses dazed by the bewildering surge of fire through her body.
Opening her pleasure-hazed eyes, Aurora stared up at him. Nicholas was lying on his side, supported on one elbow, watching her. She was sprawled inelegantly on the bed, her legs dangling off the edge, her skirts hiked up to her hips, totally exposed above her stockings and garters. His heated gaze drifted over her – her bare breasts with their peaked nipples, and lower, to the juncture of her naked thighs.
Her face flushing with awareness, she reached down to put some order to her dishevelment, but Nicholas stopped her by covering her hand with his own.
"There is no need for shame or shyness between us, angel."
She averted her gaze. "I behaved like a wanton. I am not usually so… licentious."
"Only because you never before had the opportunity. I suspect you are quite a passionate woman at heart. There is a fire inside you that you keep hidden…" When she remained silent, he raised his fingers to her chin and forced her to look at him. "A man finds an aroused woman incredibly desirable."
Her flush deepened. "I never imagined…"
"How pleasurable lovemaking could be?"
"Yes."
His half smile was indulgent. "That was only a taste, sweeting. There is more – much more – for you to learn about carnal desire. And with your permission, I intend to spend the rest of the night showing you."
Aurora returned his gaze solemnly. She wanted Nicholas to teach her about passion. She wanted to feel that bewildering fire again. Tonight could be her only opportunity, this her sole experience with lovemaking. She might very well never marry again. If so, she would never again know a man's touch, or know what it was to be a woman. Yet there could be complications…
"Jane said… there could be a child from our… union."
His gaze never wavered. "Jane is very practical, it seems."
"Yes. She wanted me to know the possible consequences of being with you."
"There are ways to prevent conception, but it is possible a child could result from our union. Would that be so very undesirable?" he asked.
A strange longing filled her at the thought. "No." She would want his child, she realized. To keep some part of him after he was gone. "It wouldn't be undesirable in the least."
His expression softened. "Then there is nothing for you to fear."
Nothing except losing my heart. But the thought fled when Nicholas surprised her by sitting up.
"I suppose we should begin by shedding all these unnecessary layers of clothing."
When he reached down to help her, she reluctantly accepted his assistance. "The light," she murmured self-consciously, rearranging her bodice to cover herself. The lamplight was too bright to be merciful.
Nicholas hesitated a moment, but then obligingly turned down the lamp, leaving only firelight to illuminate the room. "Is that better?"
"Yes, thank you."
He took her hand and brought it to his cravat. "You may do the honors, love."
"You want me to undress you?"
The faint curve of his lips was devastatingly sensual. "That seems a fitting place to begin if we are to conquer your nervousness. It's only unfamiliarity that makes you apprehensive, sweetheart. When you become accustomed to me, you'll find you have nothing to fear." His compelling eyes held hers while his husky voice cajoled. "You may take the lead, set the pace. I won't force you to do anything you don't wish to do. You are in complete command."
Reassured in some measure, she tentatively did as she was bid, removing first his cravat, then his coat and waistcoat and linen shirt. His boots and stockings he removed himself. When she hesitated, he followed with his breeches and drawers.
When he stood before her, his tall, nude body lean and hard and well-muscled, she stared spellbound.
"I am your husband, Aurora," he said, his voice a velvet murmur. "You needn't fear me. I am just a man, flesh and blood like you."
He was not at all like her, she thought skeptically, viewing his naked, sun-bronzed flesh and taut sinews. He possessed a broad chest and narrow hips and powerful thighs, like the statues of Greek gods she'd seen. And the alien hardness springing from the curling, dark gold hair at his groin made her heart beat erratically. She didn't fear him exactly, but neither was she in the least at ease.
"Now your turn," he murmured. When she hesitated, he smiled. "Of course you are accustomed to a lady's maid. Would you like my assistance?"
"Yes."
"It will be my pleasure."
He began with her hair, pulling out the pins and letting the pale gold mass cascade down her back.
"You have beautiful hair," he murmured, his fingers gliding through the silken tresses. "Like spun gold."
After a moment, his hands slid beneath her hair to the fastenings at the back of her gown. Well-bred and shy about her body, Aurora stood silently as he dispensed with her gown and corset and stockings. Her chemise was the last to go. Feeling the cool night air caress her nakedness, Aurora shivered.
"Your body is exquisitely lovely as well," he said, turning her to face him. "I intend to show you all the pleasures it was made for."
When instinctively she moved her arms in front of her body to hide from him, he gently pushed them aside.