The Earl and His Virgin Countess(23)

Pulling away, he stayed her touch. “I can’t take much more.”

“I simply want to touch you the way you have touched me.”

“And I promise you may touch me anywhere your heart desires, once we are wed.”

“Is a special license an option?” she asked, biting her plump lower lip, leaving him breathing hard. Damn, if she brought him low already, as a virgin with no experience, what would she do when he awakened her sexual side to its full potential?

He stood, praying desperately for strength. “You said in the carriage just this morning that, should we marry, you wanted it to take place in the church on my lands, before your friends and those who have been less than kind to you through the years. Though I personally would have told them to take a jump in the nearest river.”

“Yes, but they never believed I was promised to you. I want them to see us wed so they—”

“Can eat crow? That I do understand.”

“Is that petty?”

“I think it’s human nature.”

She reached forward and rested a warm palm on his upper thigh. “Four weeks seems a very long time.”

“Right now, it seems like an eternity,” he said between gritted teeth.

“Let me touch you. It’s terribly unfair that I feel so unprepared for our wedding night. You are so much more experienced in giving pleasure, as you demonstrating amply well last night. I know next to nothing.”

“That is the way it’s supposed to be for well-bred ladies.”

“It doesn’t have to be.” Her fingers worked closer to the growing bulge in his pants. Images of her wrapping the, dainty digits around his hard cock dropped the last bit of argument he had formed. He gripped her wrist, and a whimper of protest escaped her lips. She evidently believed he would prevent her exploration. But he placed her hand over the prominent bulge and she gasped.

“It’s so—hard.” She traced the outline of it through his britches. “Is it always like this?”

“Around you, yes.”

“What about when you aren’t around me?”

Could he remember that time less than twenty-four hours ago? “Then it is soft and slightly smaller.”

“It grows then?”

“For you, yes.”

“Take it out so I can see it.”

“It is called a cock, and, no, your aunt might be back any moment.”

Apparently not listening to a word he’d said, she worked the buttons of his pants. “She shan’t come in, that I can promise.”

He went to argue, but she slipped a hand inside and wrapped it around him. All coherency fled. The soft palm added just enough friction and, when she squeezed, small beads of sweat broke over his forehead. His balls tightened with the need for release. Finally, he had to lock his knees to prevent them from knocking.

“Like velvet,” she murmured. “I hadn’t expected that.”

Clenching his jaws, he managed, “What, dare I ask, did you expect?”

“I expected something sharp that would cut my maidenhead.” She grinned up at him then faltered. “You don’t seem to be enjoying this. When you touched me, I enjoyed it very much. What am I doing wrong?”

Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to relax, all the while delaying his release. Releasing a clenched fist, he caressed her cheek. “You are doing everything right. I am fighting my need to make love to you. In doing so, it may appear I am in pain.”

“Oh.” Satisfied, she went back to what she had been doing.

He, meanwhile, died a slow, excruciating death with every stroke, payment for every sin he had ever committed through his life coming due. Nerves nearly snapped, and the natural instinct to wrench up her skirts and dive into her nearly undid him. Instead, he held onto his baser instincts by the finest of threads. She wanted to explore his body, eager to see what the male anatomy looked like. And, if this allowed for an easier, less frightening wedding night, then it would be worth it. Or so he kept repeating to himself.

Think of England.

Not helping.

Think of crops and rotations.

Not that either.

Think of—

Her tongue touched the tip of his cock.

Fucking hell!

“What are you doing?” he croaked.

“I wanted to taste you.” She licked her lips like the cat that got the cream.

“Why?”

She pouted, and he wanted to take that bottom lip into his mouth and suck on it. “Because you did something similar to me; it seemed only reasonable that I would do it to you.”

“Your thought process might be the death of me.”

“But it is done, is it not?”

“Oh, it’s done.”

“Good.”

The joy in her voice, as well as the enthusiasm, forced him to change his tactics. He’d gone about things all wrong. If he wanted her to learn about him then showing her what pleased him made a hell of a lot more sense. Everything she did, he wanted more of. Closing his eyes, he fought the need to grab her hair and push his cock deep into her throat.