Hope's Betrayal (35 page)

With shy demureness
she turned to her husband.

“Better?” He
said, rolling onto his side, leaning up on an elbow. His sudden activity
surprised her, and then she noticed the corner of his mouth twitch into a
smile.

“Why you…!”

Hope swallowed
hard. He had been playing her along all this time, acting the goat so she
didn’t feel alarm. Part of her felt very pleased indeed, but she wasn’t going
to let him know—not just yet. Two could play that game. With a prim pucker she
nodded to his clothes.

“Do you always
go to bed fully dressed?”

He glanced at
her artfully. “No, but after all that standing I am a little sore. Perhaps, if
you could help me…”

Dry mouthed Hope
nodded, after all, with her in nothing but her underclothes, it seemed only
fair.

“Your shirt?”

Huntley sat
obligingly. Hope moved closer and tugged it over his head. Throwing the garment
aside, her first sight of his torso made her gasp. He was beautiful. Spare and
lean, not an ounce of fat, his sculpted chest made her shiver with desire. She
couldn’t help but place a palm against it, and the hardness beneath the skin
made her eyes dilate. It was her turn to close her eyes as she explored his
body with touch, marveling at the sateen softness over rigid muscles. Her touch
lingered, feeling the catch of his breath as tentatively she stroked a dark
nipple. She wondered at her brazenness and stopped.

“Go on.”

She swallowed.
George didn’t seem to mind, in fact, just the opposite if the swelling in his
breeches was anything to go by. She traced lower, over the ridges of his
abdomen, to the dimple of his belly button and below to the waistband of his
breeches.

“Undo them,” he
said, his voice husky with desire.

Nodding, Hope
unlaced the ties, releasing the tension on the flap. George groaned.

“More than
anything, Hope Huntley, I want to make love to you.”

 She saw him
tremble, saw the raw need in his eyes and there was no decision to be made, for
they both desired the same thing. With bone aching desire, she leaned forward
and covered his lips with hers. The sweet wet warmth felt so right, it was as
if she belonged there, with him. His fingers threaded through her hair,
caressing her temples as she leaned over him.

“Hope, you are
my salvation. You know that, don’t you?”

But he didn’t
wait for an answer as he kissed her deeply and greedily. With Hope above him,
he made to turn, but a sharp pull of pain restrained him. Hope drew back, her
heart now pounding with alarm.

“I don’t want to
hurt you.” Her eyes glistened, “perhaps we shouldn’t…”

Huntley cursed.
“Perhaps another way—with you on top.”

For a moment
Hope pondered his words, then it made sense. With a quick smile, she nodded and
before embarrassment got the better of her, carefully placed a leg either side
of his waist and sat astride. Her cheeks flamed scarlet. Reaching up, he rubbed
the nub of his thumb against her chin.

“You will enjoy
this, I promise.”

She nodded, more
from determination than passion. The pad of his thumb rubbed along her lower
lip and a new heat engulfed her, as she became aware of his other hand tracking
beneath her chemise as she squatted above him. He stroked her calf, then her
knee, and as he slowly shaped his hand to her thigh, she thought she just might
die.

“Relax.” He
crooned. “Listen to your body.”

With
determination she took a deep breath, but her body had become rigid.

“Don’t be
embarrassed. You are beautiful.”

“My mother,” she
managed to squeak out, “she always warned me against giving myself.”

“But not to your
husband.”

She weakened.
“Oh.”

“And besides,
your mother knew the delights or how else did she beget you?”

The grip of
inhibition loosened. “I’m not good enough for you. You will regret this, and
come to resent me.”

“Hope, darling,
look into my eyes.”

Reluctantly,
fearing what she would see, she did as she was bid. 

“I love you,
wife, and want to express that in a beautiful way. I want to pleasure you, to
open up your world like a bud ripening into a flower.”

His eyes seared
into her soul; almost black in the candlelight and deep with love. If she
hadn’t known he loved her, those eyes would have scared her with their burning
intensity. There was agony on his face, but of a desire to please, of a need to
worship and adore her—and deep within—she knew she wore the same expression.
All her arguments fell away.

“I would like
that.” She whispered in a hoarse voice.

“You say yes?”

“Yes, please.”
And with that she settled deeper into his embrace….

-The END -

Other books
by Grace Elliot:

A Dead Man's
Debt

Eulogy's Secret
(Book 1, The Huntley Trilogy)

Cat Pies
(non-fiction)

Coming Fall
2012:

Verity's Lie
(Book 3, The Huntley Trilogy)

Find more about
Grace Elliot here:

http://graceelliot-author.blogspot.com

Follow Grace on
twitter:

@Grace_Elliot