“Trust me. If you think I’ve had tutorage in the art, you’re mistaken.” She was still the same innocent girl who knew hardly anything about relations with men. “I’ve never kissed another man the way I kiss you.”
A laugh escaped him. “It was not an accusation, but an observation.”
“Oh. Perhaps you sense a need in me to make things right between us.” That wasn’t what she meant, but how could she say she lusted after her husband a mere week since she should have been marrying someone else?
“Make things right?” He straightened, his mood shifting. “I don’t want to spend every moment wondering if your actions stem from a sense of duty or a desire to make amends.” The passion in his eyes dimmed.
“And I don’t want to spend every moment wondering if you still resent me for rejecting you all those years ago.”
“Forget about the past. Just be yourself.” Frustration rang in his tone. “Tease me. Scold me. Laugh at me.”
A chuckle escaped her as an image burst into her mind. “So you want me to hurl conkers at you when you’re not looking?”
The most alluring smile she had ever seen formed on his lips. “Yes, and like last time I shall chase you, pin you down and relish the feel of your body writhing beneath mine.”
Heat flamed between her thighs as she recalled every divine sensation. “Then you must do the same. Be yourself. Kiss me when the mood takes you. Sleep with me.” Love me, she added silently. Please learn to love me again. “Let me be your wife.”
He studied her, warring emotions clashing in his handsome blue eyes.
“I don’t want to sleep alone tonight, Benedict.” She had spent a lifetime on her own. “Surely spending more time together will only help to nurture our relationship.”
He remained silent for a moment before his gaze dropped to the swell of her breasts. “We both need to bathe. It’s a little late to expect the servants to heat water for more than one bathtub. Let’s start there and see where the mood takes us.”
Despite a sudden pang of nerves at the thought of stripping naked, she smiled. “You can relax in the tub first while I wash the blood from your face and hands.” Having felt the sheer power of his muscular physique, she longed to see what he looked like without clothes.
An excitable energy vibrated in the air as Benedict assisted her out of the carriage and into the house. He calmed Mrs Rampling’s concerns over the cut to his cheek and then fired instructions. In less than an hour, Cassandra was alone with him in her bedchamber, a bathtub of steaming water sitting before the roaring fire.
She watched in awe as Benedict stripped off his coat, waistcoat and cravat. She watched every sleek movement until he stood in nothing but a shirt and breeches.
He padded over to her, his sinful grin promising something wicked. “My knuckles hurt. Perhaps you might help divest me of the last two garments.”
“With pleasure.” With trembling yet eager fingers, she tugged his shirt free from his breeches. She should have lifted the garment over his head, but the urge to touch his bare skin proved too tempting to resist.
Benedict sucked in a sharp breath when her hands settled on his waist.
“Your body is so hard,” she whispered, running her fingers over the solid muscles in his abdomen. “So hard.”
He reached under his shirt, covered her hand and slid it down to the fall of his breeches. “So hard, I’m finding it immensely difficult to keep from throwing you onto the bed and thrusting past your maidenhead.”
Her fingers brushed over the solid length of his erection.
Good Lord!
Her heart raced so fast she could hardly breathe. The sweet ache between her thighs controlled her thoughts. Indeed, having Benedict Cavanagh between her legs was her only motivation.
He cupped her nape and kissed her in the wild, reckless way of a man consumed with raging lust. With his other hand, he continued to help her massage his manhood which grew thicker, more impressive by the second.
The temperature in the room soared.
Her pulse increased at such a rapid rate she became dizzy. Dizzy with desire. Dizzy with the knowledge she would finally take the only man she had ever wanted into her body.
Benedict broke contact and panted to catch his breath. “I know I said we should bathe. I know I said we would see where the mood takes us, but the need to be inside you is driving me insane.”
“I want you,
too.” Oh, she had wanted him for so long. She rubbed his erection in the hope he would realise how much. “I know nothing of the intimacies shared in the bedroom, but I don’t want to wait, Benedict.”
They needed no further inducement.