She stared down at her hands as she fidgeted. She shrugged. “I think half of it is the nerve and the other half is that I do not really know how. They never talk about it in these books.”
He stood up and made his way over to the desk where he was sitting. She opened her legs again to allow him closer. “You are overthinking it,” he whispered, his voice thin with desire. “Start here,” he said, running his hands over her breasts. She gasped, feeling her breath hitch. A warmth ran across her chest as a soft noise slipped out of her mouth. “And you can move down,” he said, grabbing her wrist and slowly moving it down her torso, to her thigh. She gasped when he slipped her hand between her legs. Although she wanted him to touch her, he let go of her wrist and stepped away as if he had suddenly realized that he had gone farther than was his intention.
He cleared his throat. “It is hardly science. Just whatever makes you feel good.”
“May I think of you?” she asked.
He smiled. “I might do the same tonight,” he said. “I mean, think of you. Not—not of myself.”
Charlotte laughed. “I understood that.” She smiled. Once she recovered, she slid off the desk and tried her best to pick up all the trinkets that had fallen, but one of the glass ones had shattered on the tile floor. She stood back up, straightened her clothing, and fixed her feather back upright in her hair.
William was staring at her, as if he was attempting to fully understand the moment they had just shared. “Charlotte…”
“Your pants are much tighter than before. How indecent.”
“That, I am afraid, is beyond my control,” he said.
“Interesting,” she nodded. “So that would again fall into my sphere of influence?”
He crossed his arms, brow furrowed with annoyance. “I do not like the insinuation that I am completely helpless in this matter.”
She had wanted to say something else cheeky, but he was right. She was just as helpless as he when it came to resistance. It seemed that when her body wanted something, it could be very demanding. She shrugged.
“I am not sure,” he began, “If I am willing to lose.”
Charlotte laughed softly, tucking a coil of hair behind her ear. “Nor am I, Lord Holdford. It is merely a fever. I will come down from it soon.”
With that, she moved the chair and quietly exited the study, feeling an ache deep inside her that wouldn’t go away. Going through the rest of the evening as if she hadn’t just invited the handsomest man in thetonto sit her on a desk and worship her was difficult. Nearly impossible, actually.
The rest of the night was a blur. She was too focused on the heat between her hips to keep very still or think of anything that didn’t have to do with William. It was as if she were driven to the point of madness by him. She had intended to leave him wanting, but now she was in a similar predicament.
That evening, when she was all alone in the safety of her bed, she thought of the kiss and let her hands slide over her chest. She gasped, squeezing her skin softly before her fingers hesitantly traveled down her body until they hovered above her heat, uncertain about whether it should be done.
Despite her uncertainty, she was already past the point of return. She knew that if she did not do this now, then she would toss and turn all through the night, aching, frustrated, and missing out on vital sleep. She dipped her fingers in and drew little circles around her bud until she began to feel something profound building inside her. The only thing that dragged her closer to the pinnacle were visions of him. When she finally released, she was hot, sweaty, and completely spent, whispering his name into her pillow.
Maybe it was wrong, but it certainly didn’t feel that way.
ChapterEight
William leaned back in the red leather chair and drank the foam at the top of his glass of ale. It was bitter, with a hint of citrus. Edward sat opposite to him, smoking a cigar. The smoke fluttered around his face before drifting off towards the high ceiling.
The Gentleman’s club was dim. In the sitting room, large rafters held up the vaulted ceilings. The walls were lined with rarities and fine paintings. The carpet was blood red and the wood a dark cherry. The club always relaxed him, especially when his mind had been spinning so violently.
“I took her for a promenade this morning,” Edward said, puffing on his cigar.
William smiled. “That is very good. I believe you and Lady Arabella will make a fantastic pairing.”
“She is so shy,” he smiled. “I hope she will be able to talk freely with me soon, although as much is to be expected.
“She is very shy, but I do believe that she is taken by you as well.” He scratched his forehead and leaned back. “I think it is better that way. Lady Charlotte is hardly the type of woman you would go after.”
Edward leaned back, puffing at his cigar and taking a deep breath. “Did you tell her about your feelings?” he asked.
“I did not,” William stated. “There is nothing to tell her, despite your insistence.” He was still alight, feeling overwhelmed that he had been so desperate for her that he risked the repercussions just to be able to kiss her again. “We have a mutual understanding between us, and simply the fact that my family no longer pities me is enough.”
Edward exhaled smoke and grinned. “You are always so interested in women that give you a hard time. Perhaps you need to be pursuing someone who can bring you peace. Such intense passion is overrated.”
“This is a fair criticism.” William had known this for quite some time. “I seem to always chose headstrong women. They appeal to me. I suppose the thrill is typically what tempts me. Perhaps someone gentle may ease my spirit.”