having that kind of release from another person and she didn’t want to let him down.
She didn’t want him to think less of her.
“Owen,” she whispered.
His brow wrinkled, an expression of concern and care. “He never made you come?”
She shook her head. “He…he didn’t care about my feelings. He always reminded me that our sharing a bed was a duty, one created by the vows we took. We only did it a few times and I…no, he never made me come.”
His lips thinned. “Well, that is his loss, my dear. But I don’t consider touching you a duty, I don’t consider…” He let his hand drag down her body, over where her gown was bunched at her waist, around to cup her hip and pull her more flush to him. “…I don’t consider this anything but a gift. And I want to make you shake, Celeste. I want to make you cry out my name. I want to make you come.”
She nodded. Right now she would have given him anything he asked, anything at all. But he didn’t take advantage. He didn’t do anything but tug her dress down her waist. She lifted her hips and he freed the wrinkled mass of fabric and set it aside. Then he removed her slippers and her stockings and she was entirely naked, spread out on his settee like a wanton.
“My God, you are everything,” he whispered, it seemed more to himself than to her. She blinked at the tears that entered her eyes, turning her face so he wouldn’t see. But of course he did. “Celeste, please don’t cry. We don’t have to do this if you’re not ready or changed your mind or just don’t want to.”
She caught her breath. “It isn’t that. It isn’t any of that, Owen, I promise you. It’s that…you said I was everything. I’ve been nothing to anyone for so long, I can hardly believe anyone could think otherwise.”
Chapter 13
Owen stared down at the beautiful woman naked on his settee. He had never met any other person like Celeste, and yet she thought so little of herself. He understood why, of course. He’d met her horrible parents. He’d researched her awful husband. And given his own past, he knew exactly why she might feel less thanks to their actions and words. His father, or lack of a father, had certainly worn him down, made him question himself. He’d been lucky enough to have a life filled with people who helped him find the light inside himself.
All he wanted was to do the same for her.
“If you have been surrounded by fools,” he said, caging her in with his hands, “who were so blind that they couldn’t see your worth…” He bent to nuzzle her neck. She shivered and he smiled against her skin. “Then that is on them, not you, Celeste.”
He drew his mouth lower, across her collarbone, lower to her breast. “Because you are the most remarkable person I’ve ever met.” He kissed lower, over the curve of her stomach. “And I’m lucky to get even a moment with you.”
His lips trailed across her hip and he pushed her legs open a little wider, allowing himself a space there. He scented her desire, saw it glisten on the folds of her sex, and his cock twitched.
But this wasn’t about what he wanted. He’d get his pleasure and it wouldn’t even take effort. Celeste, on the other hand, deserved to be worshipped. And that was what he was going to do.
She leaned up on her elbows and looked down at him, watching through a hooded gaze as he peeled her open, as he smoothed his thumb across her wet entrance. She gripped at the cushions of the settee when he did, a little groan escaping her throat.
He stroked her again with his thumb, pressing against the hooded nub of her clitoris. He flicked it gently, revealing the shining pearl beneath. Now when he touched her, she arched, her eyes widening. He stroked his thumb around her in a slow circle, increasing the pressure with each turn, watching her reaction to find just the right rhythm, just the right touch.
She was so responsive, it was almost effortless to make her moan. The fact that her bastard of a husband hadn’t even tried to give her release was a crime in itself. And yet that meant Owen had a unique opportunity to give her that pleasure himself.
He bent his head, closer and closer to her sex, and at