His expression remained troubled, but his gaze was avid as it traced her body. “Charis, you’re beautiful beyond a man’s wildest dreams.”

How could he say such things? It was too painful. She couldn’t find pleasure in his praise when he shook with disgust at her slightest touch.

“Please…” She swallowed to dislodge the lump of distress in her throat. “Please get it over with.”

His face contorted with sorrow. “I’m sorry, Charis.”

“Don’t say any more.” She closed her eyes, partly to stem her foolish tears, and slid down in the bed. “Just…do what you must.”

“As you wish.” He sounded remote, as though he too retreated behind some inner bastion.

The mattress sagged with his weight, then she felt encroaching warmth as he straddled her legs. She knew the act would be less painful if she relaxed, but every muscle tensed in fearful expectation.

After a moment, he raised the hem of her shift. To her thighs. Then past her hips. The cold air on her skin made her shiver.

She placed shaking hands over her mound. Which was stupid. He’d do more than look at her before he was finished.

Reluctantly, she opened her eyes to find him staring at her…there. His face was taut with such anguish and longing, she couldn’t bear it.

Hesitantly, he placed one gloved hand on the soft plain of her belly. Her breasts tightened, and restless heat settled between her legs. She was ashamed that she couldn’t stifle her powerful and immediate reaction.

He snatched his hand back as if she scalded him. He was shaking. Of course he was. Touching her, even for such a short time, required every ounce of will.

She bit her lip so hard, she tasted blood. The urge to beg him to stop fought up through her closed throat. She could see in his strained, colorless face what this cost him.

She remained silent.

Still silent, she lifted her hands away from her sex.

Gideon stared at Charis in helpless wonder while his gut churned like a millwheel. She was the most exquisite creature he’d ever seen. His hunger was a raging storm.

The shift bunched under her breasts, but he clearly saw the rich pink of her nipples. Nipples that peaked like ripe raspberries the moment he touched her.

Her swift response was just another of fate’s mockeries. She was formed for pleasure, but she’d find no pleasure with the man she married. Nonetheless, his eyes feasted on the treasures of her body. The delicious inward curve of her waist. The flare of her hips. The long, coltish legs.

His cock was hard and swollen and pulsed against the front of his trousers. If he took her now, he’d rip her to pieces. His mind might deem touching her as torture. His prick didn’t care.

Dazedly, she stared into his face. She was white as new snow. She’d hardly looked at his body, although if she dropped her gaze, she couldn’t miss his arousal.

He gritted his teeth and stroked the smooth skin of her thigh. For one heady moment, even through his glove, he felt her enticing warmth.

Then, as always, his mind went black. Screams echoed in his ears. Her flesh turned to rotting carrion. Her peppery carnation scent became the stink of death.

He fought back the shrieking demons. Wrestled them until they lay supine and silent. The battle left him shaking. He sucked in a breath that reeked of decay. Slowly, as if he pushed a massive weight up a steep and jagged path, he traced a tentative path to her hip.

He wasn’t a small man. He needed to prepare her. But time was his enemy. The longer he waited, the more likely his demons would master him.

She was rigid with fear. The uncertainty in her beautiful eyes broke his heart. Her breath emerged in unsteady gasps. Not, he was grimly aware, of desire. The air bristled with tension.

He placed both hands on her thighs and carefully spread them. In a room lit only by firelight, her body’s hollows were dark and mysterious. He knelt between her legs, and his nostrils flared as he caught her scent.

With clumsy fingers, he undid his trousers. His cock sprang free. When her eyes fastened on his organ, she made a muffled sound. Her hands curled into the sheet beneath as if she physically stopped herself leaping from the bed.

He hooked his hands under her hips and angled her up. Slowly, he pushed forward.

As he breached her body, she whimpered but didn’t recoil. He pushed again, feeling the tissues give way.

To his grateful astonishment, she was damp. Damp enough to ease his entry.

Tags: Anna Campbell Historical
Source: readsnovelonline.net