The Redemption of Julian Price

“That’s not how I meant it,” she protested. “I only meant that you are now the model to me, the ideal.”


Calmed by their easy banter, her fingers ceased trembling enough to go to work on his waistcoat buttons. Once open, she slid her hands inside and over his shirt, relishing the heat of his body and the planes of hard muscle covered in soft linen. Teased by the mixed essences of manly musk and ambergris, she drew in a breath. Closing her eyes, she memorized the scent of Julian. It wasn’t enough. Her senses cried out to feel his warm skin. She tugged impatiently at his shirttails, freeing them from his breeches. “Take it off.”

He removed his shirt, revealing to her gaze what she had only imagined, but the amorphous images her mind had conjured were no match for Julian in the flesh. His shoulders were broad, his chest and arms well developed and dusted with dark hair that beckoned to be touched. Her gaze followed the dark line of it that led to his falls. Once more, they revealed his arousal.

“The breeches too,” she said.

His mouth twitched again. “All in good time. First, remove your shift,” he said.

He stepped in to assist, his heated gaze seared her by inches as he took in her nakedness. His breath was warm and sweet on her skin as he dipped his head once more to her neck. “I want to taste you, Henrietta.” She titled her head to allow him full access. “I want to devour you whole, but I’ll begin by slow inches.”

He took her mouth with long, languid kisses. Their mingled moans and synchronous sighs filled the air as he backed her to the bed. Breaking from the dizzying kisses, he sat her on the edge of the mattress and removed one shoe and then the other. He raised one foot to his shoulder, kissing the length of her leg from ankle to knee as he slowly rolled down her stockings. Henrietta shivered with the unfamiliar sensations that created warmth in her belly and moisture between her thighs. Would he touch her there again? She hoped so.

Stockings removed, he wordlessly urged her to lie back and nudged her trembling legs apart. She was growing breathless with anticipation, but she didn’t resist. She wanted this fervently. She didn’t care if it hurt or how much. She wanted him. But most of all, she didn’t want to disappoint him with miss-ish fears.

This time, both of his hands caressed her thighs. She shut her eyes on a blissful sigh only to have them snap open at a brand new sensation, the light scrape of beard bristle and the feel of his hot, wet tongue approaching—Dear God! What was he doing?

“Julian!” She reached down to grab a handful of his hair. “What are you about?”

“I told you I wanted to taste you, Hen.”

“But . . . but . . . I thought you meant to kiss me.”

“I do. I intend to kiss you very thoroughly.”

“Down there?”

“Yes. Down here. Do you recall what I told you in the carriage? If you truly wish to please me, you will allow me to pleasure you.” He nuzzled into her sex and then followed with a long swipe of his tongue. She sucked in a gasp and exhaled it on a long, shuddering breath. “Do you like that, Henrietta?”

“Yes,” she confessed. Shutting her eyes, she gave herself up to his masterful ministrations. Plying knowing lips, a skillful tongue, and seeking fingers, he stroked and tongued her until she writhed with an emptiness that ached to be filled. “Julian,” she called out. “I want . . . I need . . .”

***

Julian knew he couldn’t avoid hurting her, but there was a way he could minimize her discomfort. He slid a fingertip inside her passage, gently massaging and stretching her membrane as he applied himself single-mindedly to her pleasure. He added another finger as he continued to lick and kiss her until she begged for release. In that precious moment when she edged toward the brink of ecstasy, he plunged his fingers into her passage, breaching her just as her body climaxed. Moments later, he came over her as she lay panting and dazed, spent from the throes of ecstasy. He kissed her passionately.

“I don’t understand,” she said. “Why didn’t you take your pleasure with me?”

“Because a virgin almost never attains release with the first penetration. I couldn’t save you from the pain, but I wanted you to find pleasure in the experience.”

“As I desired for you. I wish you to take your pleasure from me, Julian.”

“I can wait,” he said. “Now that you are breached, it will be easier for you to accommodate me.”

“I don’t want you to wait. I want to feel you inside me. I want you to stop the ache.”

“Are you sure, Hen? You really want this now?”

“Yes, I’m sure. It was wonderful, but it feels somehow incomplete.” She reached out to him as her gaze sought his. “Please, make me complete . . .”