A large, solid shape was approaching her bed, the outline of shoulders and head shadowed but visible as her eyes peered through the darkness.
“Your Grace?” she whispered, because she did not feel comfortable calling him by his first name. Not after everything.
And he had never given her permission to.
“Hush,” he murmured, though the one word was enough that she recognized his voice. His shoulders moved, and some of the silhouette slid away, revealing a leaner shadow.
He must have been wearing a dressing gown, she realized, as he began to crawl onto the bed. She felt the dip in the bed, felt trepidation and hope rise inside her. As much as she wanted to say something, she could not think of what… and besides, he’d told her to hush.
There was something freeing about the silence. If she could not say anything, then she could not say anything wrong. If they did not speak, then they could not accuse or insult, either.
Hereford tugged the sheets down away from her. Uncertain of what to do, Kalina found herself utterly breathless.
Her heart was racing inside her chest, and her skin felt exquisitely sensitive as the heat of his body came alongside hers.
Not on top of her exactly, but hovering over her. One knee moved between her legs, and she felt her nightrail shift as her knees parted, lifting to admit him.
His head lowered, and for a moment she thought he might kiss her, but instead his lips landed on her throat rather than her mouth. The sensation of him touching her sensitive skin there made her gasp. Especially when her hands lifted to touch him and found nothing but bare skin.
The only fabric between them was her nightgown.
Heat suffused her, sudden arousal pooling in her core as a hot need filled her. What she needed she had only the barest idea of, though she understood what was supposed to happen. He would need to put his male part inside her, and then move until he reached completion, spending his seed in her body to plant and grow a child.
Her mother had said it could be very pleasurable, though she had not explained exactly how.
Nor had she warned Kalina about the way her skin would feel tighter, her nipples budding and becoming more sensitive as the soft fabric of her night rail moved against them, or how her insides would clench and send little ripples of pleasure through her. Her mother could not have possibly described what it felt like to have a man’s lips traveling over her throat, his hands pulling her night rail up and sliding his palms up her sides, igniting her senses.
“Oh!” She could not suppress the soft gasps, the little moans, as Hereford touched her in a manner that was utterly indecent and wildly exciting. Her body moved, hips lifting up, reaching for… something.
Hands cupped her breasts, and she gasped again, shuddering as the sensations went through her. Her nipples ached, and she whimpered into the darkness, clutching at Hereford’s bare shoulders, shifting underneath him. There was a needy pulse between her legs, a growing ache that begged for more, even though she did not know what she wanted more of.
“Please,” she begged.
“Hush.”
The word was quiet but firm.
One of his hands lifted, covering her mouth as his head lowered to her breasts.
Kalina cried out against his fingers as his mouth closed around her nipple, the wet heat sending a shot of pure pleasure from the little bud straight to her womanhood. He sucked, hard, and the throbbing ache inside her responded, but her moans were muffled against his hand. His other hand kneaded the opposite breast, fingers plucking that nipple, teasing and tugging, while his tongue laved over its twin.
She writhed, fingers digging into his shoulders as he used his mouth and hand to stoke the fires of her desire. In this arena, she was a complete novice, and he was the master of her senses.
Lifting his head, he released her breast, grasping her wrists instead and pushing them up above her head. He did not speak, just wrapped her fingers around the spindles of the headboard, holding them in place. When he let go of her hands, she kept them there.
The feeling of vulnerability as she lay stretched out beneath him, her night rail pushed up above her breasts, one nipple wet and throbbing, the other tight and aching, only increased her ardor. Yet, following his unspoken command, letting him take the lead and submitting to his direction, aroused her even more. As much as she wanted to touch him, just as the silence was freeing, so was the inability to move.
She could not say anything wrong, nor could she do anything wrong. Everything was up to what he wanted.
Bending over her again, he took her other nipple in his mouth, and Kalina moaned. She did not speak or beg again, but whimpered and gasped and cried out as much as she needed under the sensual assault. Curving his fingers over her other breast, his free hand slid down along her side, over her hip, then between her legs where he was kneeling.
The feel of his fingers touching between her legs, sliding through the wet petals of her womanhood, nearly made her levitate. The wooden spindles she was holding creaked as she tightened her grip, her hips lifting.
She was slick, hot, and could feel his fingers exploring her. Stroking her. Caressing her.
One of them found her opening and pushed inside her, and the strange sensation of something invading her body made her cry out in surprised pleasure. No wonder her mother had said this was the most intimate thing a man and wife could experience together.
Kalina felt utterly undone as his finger moved, going deeper, retreating for a moment, then questing forward again. The heel of his hand pressed against the curls over her mound, rubbing gently, and sending an utter shock of pleasure through her. Her toes curled as her head thrashed back and forth.
The urge to beg was growing, but she knew he did not want her to speak.
Part of her almost did, just to feel his hand over her mouth again.