Chapter Forty-Nine
Icarus had never bedded a virgin before, but he knew that it was meant to be a painful experience for women. This knowledge was surprisingly unnerving. The last thing he wanted was to hurt Letty Trentham. Take it slowly, he told himself. And bring her to a climax beforehand.
So he took it slowly—undoing the mother-of-pearl buttons that fastened the nightgown high at her throat, peeling the garment off her, shucking his own nightshirt, stretching his body alongside hers in the warm bed.
Clothed, Letty looked boyishly thin. Unclothed, there was nothing boyish about her. Everything was feminine: the gentle curve of her hips, the slender waist, the small, pert breasts.
Icarus set himself to the agreeable task of learning the slopes and contours of her body. He trailed hi
