As merry as a grig - cheerful and lively
- The 1811 Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue, by Francis Grose.
Keziah gasped, a slight but startled sound as he drew back again.
“There,” he said, smiling at her, though there was uncertainty in his eyes. “That wasn’t so very dreadful, was it?”
She let out a slight huff of laughter and shook her head.
“Not so very dreadful, no,” she repeated, finding her smile was genuine this time.
He moved a fraction closer, repeating the experience, each time moving his lips just a bit, pressing them against hers a touch harder.
When he moved away once more, she admitted to herself that she was just a little disappointed; it had, after all, been rather … pleasant.
“Here,” he said, turning his back to her. “Help me out of this thing, will you? I told my valet to make himself scarce, but this blasted coat is a devil to get out of.”
Obediently, Keziah moved to divest him of coat and then his waistcoat, and helped to ease off his boots as he sat on the edge of the bed and unwound his cravat.
“Lord, that’s better, thank you,” he said, grinning at her. “Now then.” He got to his feet and reached up a hand to touch her hair. “I can’t tell you how I have longed to take the pins out of this,” he said, such reverence in his voice that Keziah felt her cheeks heat. She stood perfectly still while he removed all of the pins securing her hair in place, running his fingers through the silky locks as they tumbled past her shoulders.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, holding a curl to his mouth and brushing the soft strands over his lips.
Once her hair was freed, he took her hand, leading her to the fire that blazed in the hearth and sitting down in the armchair beside it. She gave him a quizzical look, as he still held her hand, but it wasn’t until he gave her a slight tug that she realised his intention.
Blushing furiously, she perched herself on his knees, and then at his urging, moved closer to him. Once she was arranged to his satisfaction, she dared look at him again, suspecting that he was laughing at her. But there was no mockery in his expression, no amusement, just pleasure and happiness that could be seen in those dark green eyes, so full of tenderness.
He moved forward and she stilled as he kissed her, the feeling of his mouth on hers still new but not so strange as a moment ago.
It appeared he was in no hurry for anything further and she relaxed as she grew used to the intimacy of it. His arms pulled her a little closer and she became aware of his hand clasping her waist. It moved a little, sliding a little higher until it rested just below her breast and she gasped once more.
As though he had been awaiting the moment, Ash traced the contours of her mouth with his tongue, taking advantage of the parting of her lips to open her mouth a little more. Keziah tried not to tense, startled by the feeling of his tongue against hers, but relaxing once again as she discovered there was nothing to dislike in the sensation. Indeed, as she tried to mimic his actions, she was aware of a pleasurable heat suffusing her. It was no doubt the proximity to the fire, but whatever, it was by no means unpleasant.
Little by little, the kisses grew deeper, and she became aware that Ash was breathing harder. In truth, she felt rather breathless herself, but she jolted in surprise as his hand slid higher, cupping her breast and squeezing slightly.
He withdrew immediately, pulling away from her and watching her with caution.
“Forgive me,” he began, but Keziah laughed, not knowing what to say, but shook her head.
Though she didn’t want to put it into words, she hadn’t reacted so because it was unpleasant. Indeed, a spike of pleasure had shot through her that had been something of a revelation.
Ash’s face cleared and he smiled at her. “I took you by surprise?” She nodded and he grinned, looking quite endearingly smug. “I warn you, I may do that some more before this night is done.”
Keziah blushed but held his gaze, feeling suddenly a little bolder. As if determined to keep his word, he reached around her back, searching for the two little ties that secured her dress and giving each a tug. With care and moving slowly, as if not to startle her further, Ash pulled the gown from her shoulders until she sat in her chemise and petticoats with her dress around her waist. Apparently satisfied for the moment, he pulled her closer once more and kissed her.
This kiss - or these many, many kisses, Keziah was not sure which it was as his lips barely left hers for a moment. Whichever description was correct, the effect was really quite intriguing. The room seemed to grow ever hotter, the restriction of what remained of her clothes suddenly confining. A strange impatience settled over her, though what it was she was waiting for, she couldn’t quite decide, until she remembered the feel of his hand on her breast and decided that was certainly high on the list. But to her frustration, he did not attempt such a move again, concentrating alone on her mouth, his hand resting lightly at her waist.
All at once, he stopped, regarding her with caution. Both of them were flushed and breathing hard, she realised, and as he reached out and placed his hand to her cheek, she surprised herself by angling her face into his touch, like a cat.
He smiled, then, the delight and wonder in his eyes touching her heart and making her wish to please him.
“Do you think,” he asked, his voice low and enquiring and with no sense of urgency. “That perhaps … you would like to come and lay down with me?”
Keziah swallowed. All thus far had been surprising and tender and far from unpleasant, but surely now he would expect whatever it was of her that men always sought. That which seemed to make animals of them. Nonetheless, she had made a promise, she had sworn herself to this man, and he had made a bad enough bargain so far, she’d not let him consider it worse than it was. So she nodded, albeit a little stiffly, and got to her feet.
The slither of her gown falling as she stood, combined with the loss of heat as she removed herself from his hold, brought her to shivering. Once started, however, she found that she could not stop.
“Don’t be frightened, love,” Ash said on observing this, his head reappearing as he’d taken a moment to pull off his shirt. He dropped it to the ground, and suddenly Keziah was more interested in the man in front of her. She had thought him rather slight, in truth, but now she realised her mistake. There was not an ounce of fat on him, it was true, but he was well made, the muscle on his chest and arms not heavy, perhaps, but well defined and taut. Keziah realised she was staring and averted her eyes, but was left with the rather surprising desire to reach out and touch him.
Burning with embarrassment, that desire was put to one side as Ash began to divest her of her undergarments. Keziah alternately stared at the floor or closed her eyes, anything but meet his gaze as each layer revealed more of her, until she was standing in nothing but her skin.
Trying to memorise a rather garish pattern in the rug beneath her feet, anything rather than look up, it took her a moment to realise that Ash was standing in front of her, unmoving.
She looked up, then, forcing herself to meet his gaze, wondering if perhaps he was disappointed or in some way upset, until she saw his eyes. He gave a rather rueful huff of laughter as she stared at him, finding his eyes glittering with emotion. He swallowed then, smiling and reaching out his hand to her.
“I never dreamed …” he said, the words fading away as he gazed upon her like he’d revealed some lost treasure. “I never dared to dream … Oh, Keziah, you’re so very beautiful, and I love you so.”
Keziah caught her breath, her emotions in such a tangle that she hardly knew what she was feeling, let alone how to reply. She should tell him she loved him, too, surely … but then she was in his arms, startled by the feeling of his warm skin against hers, and everything else faded away.
His skin was so very soft, far softer than she had considered, believing that men were in some way tougher than women. That it wasn’t true was a revelation. His body was harder than her own, certainly, but … She ran her hands down his back and his breath seemed to catch as he kissed her harder, deeper.
He released her and she almost stumbled, his arm reaching to steady her as she felt really quite giddy.
“Come, love,” he said, his voice rather rough now as he drew her to the bed and bid her lay down with him.
Keziah slid between the covers, the cool cotton making her shiver again. As Ash pulled her to him she found his body seemed hotter still in contrast, his skin burning against hers. His hands moved over her now, restless and searching but still tender, exploring her as though he would make a map, committing each tiny detail to memory. As if to make certain of his path, his lips followed where his questing hands had been, and Keziah made a startled sound of surprise as his mouth closed over her breast.
Pleasure shot through her in a sudden spike, only to be followed by softer waves of the same sensation, ebbing and building all at once as his mouth and tongue explored and kissed and held her captive with delight.
As his mouth worked, his hand slid over her belly, tickling her as his fingers trailed through the little thatch of hair between her thighs. Keziah felt she ought to be nervous now, she ought to be tensing for what came next, but his hands and his mouth and his tongue … it was as though she was drugged, a strangely languid, heavy feeling suffusing her limbs whilst she felt all at once alive and awake and desperate for … for whatever else there was. So when his fingers sought and found the place that they desired, she made no demur, only found her breathing growing faster, that languid pleasure transforming into something hotter and needful and far more urgent.
She heard his voice as if from a distance, speaking to her softly, urging her down the path she had set upon without knowing where it led. But she required no further invitation; the destination might be unknown, but it was clear enough, and she rushed towards it, clutching at Ash, at the bed sheets, at whatever might anchor her to the ground as the world seemed to fall apart around her, tumbling away as the pleasure crashed over her, sparking behind her eyelids and forcing such a cry from her lips that she knew would shock her once her senses were restored.
She lay still, then, her blood strangely alive beneath her skin, fizzing like champagne, her whole self tingling and more alive than she had ever realised she could feel. That part of her, the place where his fingers had caressed and drawn her ever forward, throbbed still, keeping time with her heart as it thundered in her ears.
“Keziah?”
She forced her eyes open, though unwillingly, as they were heavy, her limbs likewise sated and sleepy.
Blinking, she found Ash staring down at her, his eyes dark with desire, but concern lingering in his expression. “Are you … I mean, was it …” He faltered, looking awkward, and so Keziah nodded.
“Yes,” she whispered and pulled his head down so that he might kiss her again. He needed no more encouragement and moved to settle between her legs. Keziah sucked in a breath as he slid between her legs, caressing her slick and tender skin with the part of him she had averted her eyes from.
She swallowed, knowing that this was the moment she had feared, this was the moment where it would change and he would take his pleasure. She tensed beneath him and he stilled, breathing hard but clearly too concerned with her sudden tension to carry on, and then she realised she had nothing to fear. He was not like that. This was Ash, her dearest friend, the man who had gone to such lengths to see her safe. For the first time in her entire life, she knew she had someone to trust in.
He would never hurt her.
“Don’t be afraid,” he whispered, bending to place a gentle kiss on her lips. “I … I know the first time can be a little …”
“I’m not afraid,” she said before he could say any more, and meaning it now. She reached up and pulled his mouth back to hers and allowed the tension to fall away, allowed Ash to coax that strange and enticing feeling back to life, that delicious tugging deep inside her that seemed to gather energy as he moved against her. It flooded her veins like a drug, making her gasp and pull him closer so that when he slid inside, there was only a moment of tightness, a sharp pinch that made her breath catch, and then it was done and gone. She stared up in wonder at the man moving over her, inside her, finding it strange, and yet … somehow not strange at all to share this with him. He caught her gaze, by some means knowing just what she was thinking, and he laughed, the sound so full of joy that it caught at her heart.
“I love you,” he whispered, bending to paint a trail of kisses down her neck. “So much, so very much, oh …”
The words faded as his breath caught and his body grew taut beneath her hands. He moved faster, harder, with more urgency, and the sounds he made were harsh and loud and, yes, animalistic, all of that, but she was not afraid, nor disgusted. Quite the opposite, his desire, his enjoyment of her seemed to burst into flame within her, pleasure surging through her as he reached his peak, holding onto her so tight she could barely breathe or move, but managed to cry out with him as she followed where he led.