For five years, he’d battled the fear that he was likely to fragment into a thousand jagged shards. But inside Morwenna, he felt complete. Every time their bodies joined, he felt more like the man he’d once been.
She had such magic, his wife.
Morwenna shifted in time with the swaying coach, the dance of her body shooting explosions of light through his head. The movement was so beguiling, it took him a few seconds to notice that she was unbuttoning her green merino pelisse. He frowned as it fell open to reveal the darker green dress beneath. The bodice was demure, fastening high to the white lace collar. The contrast with her bare arse beneath her dress made him jerk his hips upward in a surge of desire.
She gave a broken laugh. “Don’t move just yet.”
“You’re driving me utterly insane,” he growled, flexing his fingers in the thick material of her skirts. He desperately wanted to touch her, but he feared she’d tumble into the well between the seats if he let her go.
“That was the plan,” she said. “If I hold your shoulders, can you undo me?”
He wondered if she meant undo in the carnal sense, then his reeling senses focused on one detail that he should have noted before.
Unlike the gown she’d worn at breakfast, this dress fastened up the front with a row of carved wooden buttons.
“God in heaven...” he grated out.
“Is that yes?”
How the hell could she sound so lucid, when she squeezed his cock so sumptuously? He made an incoherent sound of agreement. Too incoherent.
She caught his shoulder with one hand and fiddled with her top button. “Because I can do it, if you’d rather.”
“Damn it, Morwenna, you have no idea how I...”
Words failed him, as these days they were wont to do. She curled her hands over his shoulders and settled more securely on his lap, an action that nearly blew the top of his head off. The urge to rip the damned dress to shreds rose, but he bit it back.
For years, memories of her beautiful breasts had filled his dreams. So often he’d woken from restless sleep with his hands curled to shape those luscious curves. He’d loved her breasts from the first moment he saw them, a shameful fortnight before their wedding. When they’d been lawfully wed, he’d lavished endless attention on them.
Forcing back his need to spill into her, he began to unbutton the dress. It seemed sacrilege to fall on her like a starving man fell on a loaf of bread. But even so, he couldn’t stop his hands shaking.
Control, man, control.
The collar parted to reveal a strip of pale white skin. He leaned in and placed a tender kiss where her pulse throbbed at the base of her neck.
Then Robert returned his attention to the buttons. Only half a dozen, but they felt like an infinite line.
Another free. More white skin.
Another.
He frowned. Perhaps female undergarments had radically changed since he’d been away. But shouldn’t he see a shift and a corset by now? She’d certainly worn stays under that fetching blue gown last night, when she’d tortured him with the unlacing.
Torture? He hadn’t known the meaning of the word. This was torture indeed. Morwenna heaving over him in a speeding carriage while he negotiated these pestilential buttons.
A line of creamy skin extended from her neck to the high waist. And no shred of linen between her and the air. Every drop of moisture evaporated from his mouth. Anticipation sizzled through him.
“Did you forget all your undergarments this morning?” he asked, loosening the last button.
“Oops,” she said breathlessly.
The effort of resisting his climax already had his heart crashing against his ribs. Now it performed a somersault. “Let me make sure.”
He spoke lightly, but he felt like he revealed a sacred mystery when he caught the edges of her bodice and slowly parted them. The shadowy valley widened under his gaze until curves rose on either side. His shaking intensified, and he licked his lips.
Quickly he raised his eyes to find her watching him with no hint of teasing. Her lips were full and glistening after their kisses. He kissed her briefly, then slid the dress aside to reveal her bare bosom.
“Morwenna...”