Blame It on Bath Page 0,52

onto the bed, bearing her down onto her back without breaking contact between them. She took a deep breath, thinking of what was to come, and he cupped her cheek to kiss her. By the time she realized what he was doing, he had settled his weight between her legs, and she could feel the head of his organ brushing against her. “Shh,” he crooned again. “Don’t worry—let me make it better . . .”

Katherine nodded, although whether he could see in the darkness, she didn’t know. She hoped he would kiss her again, for she forgot everything but the drowning pleasure of that when he did, but instead his lips whispered over her brow before moving down the side of her neck. The slight scrape of stubble against that sensitive skin made her shiver. He murmured wordlessly, his lips traced over her collarbone and shoulder. His other hand began stroking in long, sure sweeps up her arm, then down, then raising her arm above her head and draping it over the pillow. His knee nudged her thigh, and she obediently shifted her leg out of the way. He hummed a deep note of approval and slid down until his head was level with her breasts.

He explored them gently. He nuzzled the underside of one while palming the other with his large, warm hand. Katherine dimly thought she should be mortified—she knew gentlemen liked large breasts on a woman, and hers were so small Howe had merely sighed in pity over them—but goodness, what Gerard was doing felt wonderful. His tongue traced delicate loops and whorls across her ribs, his thumb mirroring those actions on the opposite side. When he scraped his teeth lightly across one nipple, she gasped, and when he sucked it into his mouth, she shook like a leaf in a breeze. Her flesh seemed to burn under the touch of his mouth and his fingers until she was sure her skin was glowing. Both her arms were over her head now, clutching at the pillows to keep her body from floating off the mattress in sheer bliss.

When he touched her lower, his palm cupping over the nest of curls between her legs, she arched off the bed—not in fright, as he evidently thought from the way he soothed her again, but from shock at the sensation. Howe had touched her there, but it never felt like this. Gerard’s fingers were gentle but insistent; he didn’t poke them inside her at once, but danced around, stroking, circling, working his way through the folds of flesh until he reached one spot so sensitive, she made a strangled noise of alarm. It wasn’t right—she’d felt that to the tips of her fingers and the soles of her feet.

“Shh,” he whispered even as he made the torment worse. “Trust me, Kate.”

Hadn’t she already? Trusted that he was honorable enough to marry, bound herself to him, handed over her fortune to him, left London with him, and now surrendered her body to him? He could have anything he wanted of her if he only asked. She wanted to please him in bed. With a big breath, she nodded, and let him do as he wished.

Sometime later he moved, the hair on his legs tickling her inner thighs, and he adjusted himself against her. Katherine told herself to stay relaxed and let him, but it had been a long time since a man had made love to her. She tensed, which only made his entry harder. Gerard had teased her into a quivering tangle of sensation, and now he seemed so large, so thick, her nerves screamed as he pressed into her body. He was a much bigger man than Howe had been, in all ways. It didn’t hurt and pinch as it often had before, but she felt invaded and stretched. She spread her legs wider apart, hoping to make it easier.

Gerard paused, sucking in a deep breath as she moved. “God, Kate,” he growled. “My God. Like that, yes.” He caught her knee and hooked it over his hip, sliding deeper in the process. She arched her back, truthfully trying to wiggle away from him for a moment, but he took hold of her other knee and urged it around him, too. He pushed until she thought she would faint at the fullness inside her.

Finally he stopped. Katherine realized she was trembling again and breathing just as hard as her husband, who seemed to be trying to master himself. One