She removed her hand from his body and placed it neatly in her lap. Her face held regret and longing, but nothing compared to the anguish he felt at the loss of her caress.
He cleared his throat, struggling to gather his wits. “As to deflowering, Helaine, there is much that can be done without loss of virginity.”
Her eyes widened and he could tell he’d surprised her. “Something beyond kissing?”
He groaned. “Did you imagine that there was nothing else? A kiss or the full deed?”
She bit her lip and looked toward the fire. “I had wondered, but there seemed little point in speculating.”
He pushed up onto his elbow so he could face her more closely. And then he stroked her cheek. He went slowly, their gazes locked, letting her stop him when he went too fast. She barely moved, and so he caressed her cheek, then rolled his thumb over her lips. Her mouth was open slightly and he could feel the moist curl of her breath around his thumb. Without breaking the connection of their gazes, he trailed his fingers down her neck and across her bodice. Her breath caught and held, but she did not stop him. And soon he was able to cup her breast in his palm and stroke his thumb across her tight nipple.
Her mouth opened even more, and her eyelids fluttered. She probably didn’t even realize it, but she also lifted her chest the tiniest bit so that she settled more fully into his palm.
“There is so much that can be done without the loss of virginity,” he said. “Will you trust me to be careful? To show you pleasure without taking your innocence?”
She grabbed his wrist, stilling his movements. “I believe my innocence is in tatters at my feet right now.”
Now he did smile. “There are different levels of innocence, don’t you think? How old are you, Helaine?”
“Twenty-eight.”
“Much too old for naïveté. Any man who loves you will expect that you have experienced something of life.”
She pulled his hand away from her breast, but kept it between her palms as she rested them in her lap. She did not know what he could do to her with just a simple shift of his fingers.
“That’s not true, and you know it.”
He paused, wondering what he really did believe. “I think that there are more choices for women beyond wife and mistress. You are proof of that. You are a dressmaker and a business owner. And I think that if you choose to experience all that life can offer, then no man should damn you for it.”
“Just me,” she whispered. “And the man I might one day marry.”
“Is there a man?” He could scarce believe the alarm that shot through him at that thought. What if she had already selected someone? What if she knew—
“No one,” she said. “But I would like to think I could find love.” Her lips curved in a soft smile. “That is the wonder of not being the child of an earl. I have the luxury of marrying who I want. I can choose a man for love.”
He knew that she was in truth the daughter of an earl, but that an honorable marriage among his set was impossible. So perhaps she had the right of it. As plain Mrs. Mortimer, she did have options that he did not. She could marry any man she chose with no one to say she was marrying down.
“Mrs. Mortimer is not a virgin. Perhaps you should embrace your identity completely.”
She laughed at that, a sweet shimmer of sound that was real humor. “Surely you have better arguments than that, my lord.”
He smiled. “Only one. So much has been taken from you, Helaine. Allow me to give you an evening’s pleasure. That is why you came here, is it not? To have one evening of joy? I swear I will not take your virginity, my dear. Do you trust my word of honor?”
“Yes,” she said, though the word was barely more than a breath of air.
“Then kiss me again, Helaine. Place your hands here, on my chest.” He guided her palms to rest just below his shoulders. When the feelings became too intense, she could raise her arms to grip his shoulders or lower them to do what he had already taught her. “And let me give you something special.”
He kissed her. He went slowly because he had more respect for her now, and more awareness of her needs. He teased her lips, he stroked his tongue across the seam, and he slipped inside. He didn’t dominate, but he played with her. And when she relaxed into his kiss, he slid his hands around behind her back.
His fingers were deft as they slid the buttons from their holes. Her gown began to open, the shoulders slipping down. He felt her awareness of the change. Felt her tremble in anxiety, so he renewed his efforts with the kiss. And he slid his hands up from her buttons to stroke her bare flesh revealed. The base of her neck, the elegant curve of her shoulders, and the long sweep of her arms as he pushed her dress down.
Her chemise was in the way. It was a thin piece of cheap cotton, and he mentally decided to buy her a new one of sheerest silk. Especially since he had no patience with the thing. There were no straps, and he had no desire to break their kiss to lift it off her head.
He tore it, the flinch in his conscience eased by the decision to buy her a dozen new chemises. But it was nothing compared to her reaction. The low rasp as the fabric tore had her pulling back, her eyes wide and her lips wet from his kiss.
“What did you do?”
“Only this,” he said as he gently, slowly, and deliberately pulled her torn chemise from her body. It was still trapped beneath her gown, so the steady tug caressed her skin the way he wanted to. It abraded her nipples and made her shiver in delight. Or so he hoped.
“Trust me,” he whispered as he tossed the thing away. Her dress was barely held up, the neckline caught on the swell of her breasts. Her skin was flushed and her body taut. She was like a young deer torn between immobility and a full-out bolt. So he petted her as he would a terrified animal. He stroked his fingers gently along her shoulder, his thumb brushing the prominent line of her collarbone. Her skin was flushed, and her breath suspended, so he continued talking just to reassure her.
“Some nakedness is required, Helaine. But you can trust me.”
Then he leaned forward and began kissing along her neck. The position was awkward as she was sitting before him, her legs tucked to the side. But he managed to do what he needed. He pressed tiny kisses along her collarbone, to her sternum, then eventually to the top of her breast, where the gown restrained him.
He felt her relax into his attention, her breath easing out on a long sigh of delight. So he decided to be bolder. He lifted his hands, cupped a breast with one hand while the other tugged her gown down to her waist. Then, before she could react, he caught one pert nipple in his mouth and began to suck.
He could tell no one had done such a thing to her ever before. She perhaps had never even conceived that a man could do this. Her body arched as if it had been struck by lightning. Her hands rose immediately to his shoulders, holding him tightly.
He did not stop, did not release her. He began to suck in rhythmic timing that had her swaying forward and back in time to his motions. While one hand lifted her breast into the better position for his mouth, the other boldly gripped her free nipple and began to squeeze it.
She began to shake, her body coming alive beneath his mouth and hand. It was the work of a moment to ease her down to the floor, though he had to scramble at the last moment to cushion her head with the pillow. Now he had full movement with her reclined and him on his knees above her. There was so much he could do to her from this vantage point. But instead of pursuing her down, he took a moment to look at her.
She was naked from the waist up, and the fire continued to touch her skin with golden light. The rosy blush of her skin, the lifted puckering of her nipples, and the slightly dazed look in her eyes had his blood demanding more.