Free Love Lessons at Midnight by Shirl Henke

beside you.”
    Breathing hard, he lay down but kept his arm around her waist, pulling her to his side. He was careful not to let her near the painfully sensitive hardness of his sex, which was straining for—and so dangerously close to—release. He wanted to askher if she felt as he did…but was damned if he knew how, or even if, a woman achieved the same kind of release as a man.
    In his limited experience, he had never known one who genuinely did, although the Spanish camp followers had feigned pleasure. But then they had gotten up and walked away as soon as they were paid. This felt a world apart from those brief and tawdry encounters. He reached over and stroked her breasts, letting his hand trail down her belly, so soft and flat, toward the apex of her thighs. When he drew near the mound, he hesitated.
    Gabrielle knew this was the moment. She would find out if he could bring her what she had only been told existed…what he wanted to give the woman he intended to marry. Please, let it be possible! Taking a shuddering breath, she said, “Do not be afraid, my love.” She moved his hand over her mound, into the soft curls. He sucked in his breath.
    He heard her breathing grow ragged when he touched the heated center of her body and felt her petals. “You’re wet,” he said in English before he could think better of it.
    “Pleasure…excitement causes a woman to…to release moisture,” she reassured him.
    He rubbed his fingers delicately against her satiny heat until she cried out when he separated her petals.
    “Ahh!”
    He stopped. “Did I hurt you?”
    “No, no! Please, continue…only go softly, slowly…” She guided his hand until his fingers, those long beautiful fingers, found the rhythm she craved. He patiently stroked her, his senses newly attuned to the subtle nuances of her body. She arched her hips against his caresses, urging him on without needing to say a word, although her small moans and gasps of excitement spoke volumes.
    Suddenly she tensed and then shuddered, almost coming up off the mattress with a keening cry. Her hands clawed atthe sheets as she felt—really, truly felt for the first time in her life—that culmination she had only heard other women describe. Words could never do justice…Her world spun out of control for what seemed like an eternity.
    Rob knew the rhythmic pulsing he felt at her core must mean she had achieved release. Surely a woman could never feign such a thing. In spite of the intense ache of his own unfulfilled needs, he felt jubilant. He had given a woman pleasure—real pleasure, not the cold, lifeless acceptance of a wife’s duty or the counterfeit fervor purchased with silver.
    “Did I please you?” he asked, praying he was right.
    In answer, Gabrielle rolled across his chest and began raining kisses over his face and neck, crying joyously, “Yes, oh, yes, a thousand times yes! It was…” Words deserted her, so she used her mouth another way, kissing him deeply, with such fire that he groaned and wrapped his arms around her.
    “Now,” she murmured against his throat, “it is time for you.”
    Rob started to roll her onto her back, but then stopped as a sudden thought struck him like a lightning bolt. Why had he never thought to consider it before this! “Gaby…” How in bloody hell did one ask about preventing conception? Courtesans knew, but Gaby had not been with a man since being raped. “Have you…? What I mean is…could my seed take root inside you?” he blurted out, then cursed silently for his awkwardness.
    “Lady Fantasia has shown me what to do. Never fear, my major, I am protected—but you are kind to ask,” she murmured, caressing his cheek and drawing him closer once more.
    Rob required no further encouragement. He parted her legs, prepared to enter her, but she pressed her palms against his chest. Stifling another groan, he stopped…barely. “Please, have mercy, Gaby,” he whispered fiercely.
    “Oh, I intend to be