“Do not distress yourself, Jem.” Nick stretched out next to her on the quilt and propped himself up on one elbow. “You have other attributes I admire far more.” The top of her breeches came apart and his hand descended down the bare skin of her stomach. The long fingers wove themselves into the down of her womanhood. “So like you, Jem, not to wear any underthings with your breeches.”
“They don’t—” She moaned as his fingers slipped between the moist folds, “fit under my breeches.” Jemma clasped his forearm with her hand as his thumb rubbed against the nub nestled between the folds.
Nick pressed a kiss to her neck, his mouth moving down across the top of her breasts. “I wish to see these,” he breathed roughly, his hand moving up from her breeches to cup one breast. As he sat up, he cupped one side of her face, kissing her roughly. “Now. I would see them now.”
The rough cotton of her shirt suddenly slid up before she could protest. Not that she wascapableof protesting. This was wrong. Wicked even. But, oh how she wanted Nick, wantedthis.
The string holding her chemise loosened, and that garment too flew off her body, the wispy material caught by a gust of air and landing on her boots. She should be horrified, even embarrassed. Instead she was elated, her body taut with excitement. Still, she looked away from Nick.
“So lovely, like sweet cherries.”
A jolt of intense pleasure caused Jemma to arch her back as Nick sucked one sensitive peak into his mouth. Reaching up to clutch at his head, she cried softly, “Do not stop, Nick, I do not wish you to stop.”
He lifted his mouth from her breast and regarded her solemnly. “Then, we are in agreement.” His tongue flicked against her nipple as he watched her. “Aren’t we?”
Jemma paused for a moment, but only a moment. There was nothing she wanted so much as to be with this man. This moment had been destined since he first touched her. She was no worldly woman of theton, nor was she a girl who idly discarded her virtue, but Nick was the desire of her heart. “Yes. I am certain.” Marriage to Augie and her father’s disappointment paled in comparison to therightnessof Nick. Jemma ran her fingers through his hair. “I amverysure.”
“As you wish, Jem.” Slowly, he pulled the breeches from her body, kissing each newly exposed bit of skin until she lay naked and quivering on the quilt. She turned her face to the ocean, too unsure to meet the eyes of the man above her. Would he find her wanting?
“You are so lovely,” Nick said in a hushed voice. “Look at me.”
“I cannot. I—” She shut her eyes. The confidence she’d had in all things her entire life deserted her. Fear and longing caused her to tremble.
“If you don't open your eyes, you won't be able to see what I will do next.” The strands of his hair trailed against the skin of her stomach. He pressed a kiss just below her belly button.
Jemma's eyes shot open.
Nick grinned wickedly at her. “Now, stay still.” His hand splayed across her stomach, holding her. He ran one hand down her leg. “I've thought of your legs often, dreamt of them, in fact. They are just as I imagined.” He pushed them apart, looking at her all the while as he brushed the hair atop the mound of her womanhood with his fingers. He blew gently, tickling the hairs with his breath.
The most delicious sensations spread out across Jemma’s thighs. Her legs quivered. She’d heard about such things of course, of what a man might do to a woman.
Nick’s nose nudged at the inside of her thigh.
“Oh God.” The tip of his tongue flicked out and Jemma's hips lifted off the blanket. That tiny nub, that spot which tingled sometimes if she rode astride, was now the focus of all of her pleasure.
“Yes?” He pushed a finger inside of her.
“Nick.” She pressed her body up, wanting more.
“You're already wet, Jem.” His tongue leapt out to flick at the nub while his finger moved in and out slowly. "It's like lightning in a bottle,” he moved his body between her splayed legs, “when we touch. Isn’t it?”
“Yes," she stuttered, barely able to form the words. Her mind became numb, her thoughts incoherent, blank to everything but the intensity of sensation created by Nick’s mouth.
“You don't feel this when Corbett touches you.” He breathed against the flesh of her thighs. “Do you?”
Unable to answer, she shook her head in denial against the quilt as another finger joined the first.
“I thought not.” Pulling one leg over his shoulder, he pushed the other to the side until they were spread wide. His mouth sucked at her tender flesh while his fingers pressed into her.
Jemma twisted on the quilt as a delicious pressure built inside of her. There was a mountain she climbed, a wave she sought to break through. Glancing down, to see Nick’s dark head, nestled between her thighs, her legs falling wantonly about his broad shoulders, intensified the pleasure she felt.
“Please.” She heard herself beg.
Clumsily she pushed against his moving hand, wanting his fingers deeper as his tongue laved against her taut nub.
“Be still love,” he murmured against her thighs. “Just wait.”
Slowly Nick sucked the tiny, sensitive nub into his mouth and simultaneously his fingers pushed deeper.
