Stepping back, he pulled the fashionable white wig from his head and tossed it to the dressing-table where it landed in a cloud of white powder. Beneath, his hair was dark, cut short, but not too short for her to clutch if she needed to. He watched her while he dealt with the buttons at his cuffs. The shirt ended in double ruffles of Brussels lace, but on him their delicacy seemed a mockery, especially when he dragged the shirt over his head and revealed what was underneath.
The sound of her gasp was loud in the quiet room. The fire crackled, attracting his attention. With a glance at her, he went to the fireplace and picked up a taper. Transfixed, she watched him move around the room, lighting candles. First he lit the ones in the double sconces above the fireplace and the ones by the bed, then the branch of candles set on a side table.
She cleared her throat. “Do we need all those?”
“Every one,” he said softly as he strolled to the window and closed the drapes. “I want to see all of you, sweetheart.”
Annie caught her breath. Nobody had used an endearment more fond than “My dear” to her before. She hadn’t considered the power of a simple word until it was used on her.
Every step he took toward her sealed her fate. She opened her arms, and he moved into them, taking another kiss as he deftly unhooked her bodice. She went on tiptoe, pressing her lips against his, stroking his shoulders, the heavy muscle moving under the satin skin as he worked on her.
Drawing away, he urged her to turn around, pressing one side of her waist in an unspoken request. He slid the gown off her shoulders, and slipped it away, returning immediately to begin on her stays.
She’d worn her best pair. They were of blue satin, the whalebones firm and secure. Her body relaxed as he loosened the cords, pausing to drop a kiss at the nape of her neck, then another, a little below it. He gave her shoulder blades the same treatment, tracing their shape with his tongue until she shuddered.
Finding the drawstrings to her petticoats, he loosened them, too. She let them drop. He came around to her front and held out his hand, helping her step out of the ring of silk and wool as if they were performing a minuet. Her hoops had gone with her petticoats, so she was left in her shoes, stockings and shift. Nothing else. And since she preferred to have shifts of the finest, softest lawn, she was veiled, but not hidden from his gaze.
Gently, he drew her close, as if afraid she’d break away like a frightened bird. “You’re so delicately made. I hadn’t realized.”
He made her feel like a girl on her wedding night, giving herself for the first time to a man she adored. She could keep that illusion in her mind and draw on it in the days and weeks to come.
This encounter would be more than coupling. This was two people opening themselves to each other. When she had dared to imagine this, the encounter had been feverish and short. Gerald seemed determined to make her feel his every touch, his every kiss.
He folded his arms around her. “I want to hold you like this forever, keep you safe and shelter you. Even though I know you are a wonderfully strong woman, every instinct I possess is telling me to take the greatest care of you.” He shook his head and gave a wry smile. “Don’t think too hard of me.”
She swallowed the lump that had unaccountably risen to her throat. “I want you to, although I have always chafed against the restrictions men have put on me. But it’s just for tonight, and here, is it not?”
When she gazed into his eyes she found confusion there, as well as a well of tenderness she would never fathom. He didn’t answer her question, instead kissed her, with a softness she did not expect. His warm tongue slid into her mouth, caressing rather than taking possession, learning her and delivering pleasure.
Every touch pushed her higher. He made her aware of every inch of skin, every dip and hollow. He ran his fingers slowly down the length of her spine until he reached the base, then spread his hands over her buttocks and groaned into their kiss. Her flesh alive with sensation, she pressed her lips harder against his. She brought her hands to the fall of his breeches, fumbling with the six buttons that lay between her and paradise.
Shoving them roughly aside, she went for the drawstring of his underwear and soon had it undone. She didn’t wait for the garments to fall, but touched him.
His hard, hot shaft rose into her hand. Groaning, he gripped her bottom harder, squashing her breasts against his chest, her nipples finding the smooth, muscled planes a perfect match in sensitivity.
Panting, he dragged his body away from hers. “Get into bed,” he commanded. Pausing only to rid herself of her shoes and stockings, Annie climbed between the sheets.
She had fully expected the bed to be unaired, even damp, but the sheets were new and crisp, rustling as she got between them. He unbuckled his breeches at the knees, and impatiently kicked off the remainder of his clothing. He came to her naked.
Annie could have gazed at him all day. Gerald was power personified, appearing bigger out of his clothes than in them. Fine hair was sprinkled across his chest, drawing into a line that led to his groin, and what reared there. His cock was huge.