‘You’ll have to. Because I won’t.’
She put her hands on his broad shoulders to steady herself – no, she put her hands on his shoulders because she wanted to. It wasn’t, it turned out, the easiest position in which to kiss him, because his head was too low, his head was… She snuggled in between his thighs and reached out for him, so that she could run her fingers lovingly through his silky hair. He sighed then, and instead of kissing him, she pulled him close. His head lay on her breast; his warm breath tickled her bare skin above the bodice of her gown. She liked that. She could even feel his long eyelashes, tickling. Someone’s heart was beating fast, though she wasn’t sure if it was his or hers. Both, perhaps. Her senses had never been so heightened. His arms came around her and cradled her; again, silk slid over muslin and skin.
‘You’re not kissing me,’ he said. His voice was a little muffled by her body, and his breath was warm on her flesh. She felt his lips move against her and shivered deliciously. Pressed herself closer, wanting more of this precious contact.
‘Well, I can’t easily reach. But this is good too, don’t you think? Especially if you keep talking.’
‘Why…?’
She was almost sure he knew why. He was teasing her. But she was reckless, had she not decided? So she would tell him. ‘I like the feel of your mouth against my skin.’
‘You do?’
Hewasteasing her. ‘Mmm.’
‘Well, so do I.’ She thought she could feel his lips curving in a smile. ‘What else do you like, my lady?’
‘Your hair is very soft. I remember noticing that, last time.’ She was still running her hands through it, still holding him deliciously close to her.
‘Just that?’
‘And your legs are… not very soft.’
He’d been gripping her hard between his thighs – perhaps he hadn’t realised, because his hold lessened instantly. ‘Too tight?’ he said.
‘Nottoo tight,’ she corrected him. ‘Tighter, if anything. And I like your hands on me. But they don’t move.’ They were secure about her waist, which was pleasant, but she had an instinct that there was more they could be doing. A great deal more.
‘Believe me,’ he said with feeling, ‘they could move. I’m having a lot of trouble stopping them from moving.’
‘Don’t. Don’t have the trouble. We have troubles enough.’
He groaned, and his big, warm hands slipped down and cupped her buttocks. They fitted very nicely there, it turned out. Silk slid again, and muslin. Now she could be sure the growing heat wasn’t just hers, because his hands were burning through the flimsy fabrics. But she liked it. He squeezed her gently, his thumbs moved on her, and she too moaned a little. Just a tiny sound in the night.
Her nipples were hard, and the thin material that covered her breasts chafed them. They felt heavy, aching, wanting. Could he feel her tight buds against his face, through the bodice of her gown and her chemise? His lips were so close…
He could feel her, she thought, because he pressed his cheek closer, rubbed his face against her, and she whimpered at the contact.
He said raggedly, ‘Oh, Amelia, perhaps you should fulfil your promise and kiss me now. It seems like the safest course. Because if you don’t…’
‘If I don’t…?’ She stroked his face, the side of it that wasn’t pressed against her, exploring the hard planes, enjoying the stubble of evening as it bristled against her palm and fingers. His mouth pressed the soft flesh and she shivered; his tongue licked it, then his teeth nipped the pad of her thumb and made her gasp.
‘I fear I’ll either turn my head and fall on your breasts like a starving man given food, or pull up your skirts so that I can touch your skin. Your secret places. And surely either thing, Amelia, though wonderful, would be a mistake.’
She heard the wicked pout in her own voice. ‘You couldn’t do both? It seems to me as you describe it that you could easily do both at once.’
‘I could do all sorts of things I shouldn’t do. I’m touching you now, and I shouldn’t be.’
She said very low, suddenly ashamed and doubtful, ‘I know people demand things of you – your sister-in-law, and all those other women. I don’t want to be like that, but I fear I am. They don’t care what you want, only what they want – it isn’t fair. It’s no different at all to the way I’ve been treated. I can see that now. I’m sorry. You don’t need to pretend you want me just to make me feel better.’
He shook his head against her breast, and his silky hair caressed her. ‘You’re not like them, my dear. You couldn’t be. And good God, if you think I am pretending, you are fair and far off. If we’re really talking of my desires…’
‘Yes?’
‘Amelia, I want more than anything in the world to pull up your skirts and touch your beautiful bottom with no barrier between us. I want to pull down your gown and kiss your lovely breasts. I’ve said as much, but there is more. I want to slip my fingers into the curls where your thighs meet and feel your wetness, and make you wetter – I want you to gasp and moan as I touch you. I want to make you come, and cry out with the release of it, and know I did that. I want to lick my fingers to taste you, and then I want to unbutton myself, here, and slide into you as you straddle me, and move with you until we both see stars. That’s whatIwant. And yet more. A great deal more.’
She was weak with desire, with the thought of all he’d named, and felt boneless, liquid almost, in his arms. If he had not held her so close, she might have fallen. She was wet, as he had said, and needed his hands and his mouth on her skin, bringing her the sweet release that felt so tantalisingly close. Needed him inside her, something she could only imagine, wanted to move with him, wanted see stars with him.
‘God, Marcus…’ she breathed.
