She sat down on the bed and lay on her back, opened her wrapper and laid the handkerchief down over her breasts.
"All right. Ready."
He tried to keep his hands impersonal upon her, but as he stroked down one side with his hands and she winced, he gentled them to an almost lover-like caress. "I'm sorry."
"I know."
He tested her other side. She winced as his hand came parallel with her breast. "It's going to be sore binding you up there. I think it will just have to be cream and you resting for a few days. No lifting or carrying and no shovelling snow."
She smiled at the reminder of what they had endured together. "I promise."
He took out the jar of cream and gathered the flannel strips from in front of the fire. He sighed. "I'm sorry to have to embarrass you further, but you're going to need to sit up for me and remove the lace hankie."
"It's all right. You're my doctor. A good one. I trust you."
He shook his head and sighed again. "I'm also a man. And you're a gorgeous woman. I'm not so sure I trust myself," he confessed.
She sat up then and removed the handkerchief, her nipples peaking at his candid words. "Put the cream on and wrap the rib. It'll be all right."
He took a handful and smoothed it over her bruised body. He carefully laid the strips flat, smoothing them down as he worked. He tried not to look at her rosy nipples, her firm ripe breasts.
He felt his breathing growing increasingly ragged. He tried to think of the names of all the bones in the body starting with the top as he worked, but her rosy nipples were so tempting, so near… All he had to do was bend his head-
"There, all done."
"Cream on the other side," she reminded him softly, her eyes glowing.
He lasted for about ten seconds. When his hand brushed the side of her breast, she swivelled at the waist, so that his palm covered it. They both gasped.
She leaned forward and pressed her mouth against his. His lips parted, and before she knew what was happening he had inserted his tongue between her velvety soft lips, and was trying to suck her tongue into his mouth. She stiffened in surprise for a brief moment, then relaxed and gave in to the seductive sensation.
The torrid kiss soon had him wanting more. He slid one hand over to her opposite breast while his left hand stroked down her side to grasp the drawstring of her petticoat and tug.
Her fingers began to work loose the cravat at his neck, his stock. Soon he was clad only in his shirt and breeches, she in nothing but the strips of flannel he had wound around her just under her ample breasts. He moved from the edge of the bed to plant one knee between her spread thighs, and began to kiss down her elegant throat to each breast in turn.
One hand held him poised over her arching body, while the other began to stroke downwards over both breasts, between them, and down to her navel.
Finally his huge fingers nestled in her soft curls. She opened to him like a flower then. Her lips parted further, so that he bestowed upon her a ravishingly deep kiss. He could feel the moisture coating his fingers, urging him to slide into her slick softness. He had never lost control so before. Had never reveled in a woman's body in the way he was worshipping Belle's.
But then, he had known from the moment he laid eyes upon her that she was no ordinary woman. As soon as he had touched her bare flesh, it was as though he had fallen under some spell.
He teased her to wetness, loving the glide of his fingers deep within her and the small groans she was making, her hips pushing upwards to seek the ultimate joining with the magnificent man who made her feel as though she had stumbled across a little piece of heaven right here on earth.
Arabella stroked down his shoulders, clutching him fiercely to her as though she could pull him right up inside her and never let him go.
The heat flooded through her, making every nerve ending go on fire. She wanted to give him the same gift. She now stroked down his abdomen with a light but purposeful touch.
She knew by rights she ought to be afraid. Well, by rights she ought not to even be here alone in the bed with a man she hardly knew.
But somehow when Dr. Sanderson kissed her he seemed to give her all the answers she needed, even before she had asked the questions.
She was panting savagely now as his fingers continued to tease her. His thumb delicately exploring the engorged whorl at the top of her torridly damp mound made her press her breasts against him. She twitched off his unbuttoned shirt and flicked open his trousers.
She smoothed them down over his buttocks. With only a moment's hesitation, she reached for his massive length, now moving inexorably towards her.