“I shall stand first.” After another sip of tea, Caroline set her cup on the bureau top. “You may begin.”
Hardly an auspicious beginning to any sort of romantic overtures, but they had to start somewhere. And she had been receptive that day at the duck pond.
At his leisure, John tugged off his boots. They fell to the Aubusson carpet with two dull thuds. Socks followed. While she watched him, he kept his gaze focused on her. What went through her mind right now? Did she understand enough to become aroused? That remained to be seen, and if he could, he’d usher her closer to that point. She’d certainly been slightly that at the duck pond. Once he’d removed his gloves, cuffs, collar, and cravat, all of that fell to the floor at his feet.
“I assume you still wish me to remove at least part of my clothes?”
“Oh, yes.” She turned to a fresh page in her sketchbook, the charcoal pencil waiting in her fingers. “Please.”
He nodded. The struggle out of his jacket wasn’t exactly noteworthy, but finally his arms were free of the tight-fitting garment. John tossed it to the foot of the bed. His fingers trembled as he worked the ties at the back of his waistcoat. What is wrong with me? Perhaps this afternoon’s expectations were too high. What if he made a mistake and spooked her? Would she retreat back into herself, and they’d lose all headway? Shoving the thoughts from his mind, he removed the waistcoat and tossed it to the floor. Then he grabbed the hem of his lawn shirt. A few tugs had the garment up and off his body. He threw it to the bed.
“What would you have me do?” It was a tad awkward standing before his wife in such a state of undress for the specific purpose of her studying his body as if he were a statue at the British Museum, yet it was somewhat flattering at the same time. If that’s what it took to arouse her, then so be it.
The scratch of her pencil over the paper filled the silence. Had she not heard him? But as she glanced between him and her drawing, a slight grin curved her lips. Was she… enjoying this? The little minx. Perhaps it wouldn’t be such a leap to go from this point to eventually coupling. “Turn toward me.”
“All right.” He did as requested. More scratching of her pencil followed, and his nerves felt strung too tight again. “Do you, uh, wish to touch me?”
“Yes.”
His shaft awoke. Where she’d like to touch him remained a mystery. “Sweeting?”
She showed him the drawing. The quickness of the sketch was a true testament to her talent, for he stood on that page exactly as he appeared in real life. “Details later. Now I want to fine tune through touch.”
“Would you like me to undress you?” He had no idea how any of this would work, for his wife had never been around many people let alone men. Would she cry off at the last minute?
“Not yet.” Caroline rested her sketchpad and pencil next to her teacup. Then she closed the distance between them. “Gorgeous. Like art.” She placed her palms to his chest, and he inhaled sharply, for the heat of that innocent touch branded him. “Such definition.” Her fingertips danced over his skin, caressing, seeking, learning. When she leaned closer and pressed her lips to his left pectoral, he gasped.
It might not be intercourse, but her tentative exploration was just as erotic. Perhaps even more so. He stood as still as he could, not wishing to rush, not wanting to scare her. “Do you like how I feel?”
“Oh, yes.” She raked her fingers through the mat of chest hair, and he thought he might expire right there as need shuddered through his body. Then her gaze fell to the tattoo of the North Star on his right pectoral. “Beautiful.” She traced the artwork, the shading, and he trembled. Never had a woman been as apparently fascinated with his form as his wife was. When she ducked behind him and eased her fingers over the various scars he’d accumulated during his stint in the navy, he was nearly breathless from desire. “So many snores here.”
“What?”
She giggled. “Stories.”
That broke the tension. He chuckled and turned about, catching her in his arms, holding her between him and the bed. “I’d be happy to tell you of them at some other time.”
“I would like that.” Her eyes darkened to the hue of a storm over the sea. “Want to learn about you too.” Again, she slid her hands up his chest and this time looped her arms about his shoulders. “Kiss me.” It wasn’t a question, and neither was it an order, but he fell beneath her spell all the same.
“Gladly.” Then he lowered his head and claimed her lips with a string of kisses meant to tell her exactly how much he wanted her.
And he began to fall down that slippery slope where Caroline’s heart hopefully waited.