Rohan saw the surprised and hesitant look on his wife’s face when he told her what to do.
"Take off your dress," he repeated, this time staring at her patiently, waiting for her to adjust to the idea of taking it off. It was too covering and it made it impossible for him to see his woman properly. Was it among the dresses he’d ordered to be brought to her? He thought to himself as he didn’t like it.
When she seemed reluctant, Rohan reached out his hand to her and touched the button at the hollow of her throat. "You have nothing to hide from me, sweetheart. I have seen everything already." He smiled wickedly as a deep red flush crept up her freckled cheeks. "Let me help you take it off."
Belle sat still as Rohan’s hand moved. She felt his fingers at her chest, undoing the buttons slowly, steadily, until the gown loosened as he untied the laces. "Stand up," came his clipped words as he pulled her hands out of the sleeves. If she had been doing this herself, she knew her fingers would have been too clumsy and shaky to move, and yet she couldn’t help the shyness as he helped her.
Where did he learn to dress and undress a woman? Belle thought in her mind as she recalled the day he dressed her and now he was undressing her. His harem of whores, she realized, a strange bitter sensation rising to her throat and causing her to frown slightly in confusion.
She carefully stood up on the bed and the gown fell around her ankles, leaving her only in her short petticoat and stockings with her husband’s eyes boring into her like a hawk. She stepped out of it without a word, her hands brushing against her sides nervously. The firelight danced over her skin, and the thin petticoat she wore clung to her, making her feel no less than naked as it was a sheer-like material.
Rohan moved his head back to look at her properly, and she could feel the weight of his gaze, the way it made her chest tighten and her knees almost buckle.
Without needing to be told, Belle lowered herself to her knees again, kneeling back in between his legs like before, only this time there was no full dress to conceal her. Her eyes remained downcast, lashes brushing her cheeks. She tried not to think about how exposed she was, how the fabric of the petticoat clung to the shape of her breasts, made her feel bare even when she wasn’t.
Rohan watched her for a moment longer, captivated by the sight of her kneeling in nothing but her petticoat. He could now see clearly what her dress had concealed a moment ago. Her long, slender neck.
The low neckline of her petticoat brought half of her breast into his view, and with every breath, her chest rose and fell, her nipples just shy of breaking free from the fabric.
Rohan leaned forward and touched her flushed cheek. Then his gloved hand moved down slowly, resting against her collarbone before sliding over the swell of her hardened breast. He caressed his fingers against it as he watched her face. He cupped her gently, like he was trying not to scare her, his thumb brushing across the peak that had already hardened beneath the fabric.
Belle’s lips parted, a quiet breath leaving her as her head leaned forward slightly as a sudden heat curled around her body and made her breathless. She didn’t understand what was happening to her body, what these feelings were, only that she didn’t want him to stop and she found herself moving closer to his hand on her breast. His fingers were flicking over her taut nipples and it made her bite back a moan that rose up her throat.
Rohan smiled when he heard the little moan and saw how she moved closer to him without her knowledge. Wanting to hear her moan again, he bent lower and brought his mouth to her chest, he grazed his mouth against the taut buds of her hardened nipple, and then through the thin petticoat, his lips found her nipple and he began to suckle it, soft at first, then deeper like a man who had been thirsty for many years and had finally found his salvation in her.
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