Tomorrow.
Tomorrow, he would let her go. But tonight, before the night ended and the harsh light of a new day conquered the darkness,tonight she was still his. And he intended to have, taste, feel, and possess every inch of her. He would imprint her in his soul so that he could carry her with him for the rest of his life.
The carriage drew to a stop in front of his house, and he helped her descend, his manner solicitous and careful as always, but once they were inside, and they had shed their coats, he swept her into his arms. His arms that had carried her so many times. She didn’t need it anymore, but he did.
Her musical laugh fluttered against his neck.
“I can climb the stairs on my own now,” she purred.
“I know. But I enjoy carrying you.” And it might be for the last time.
He took her up to the bedchamber they had shared for the last four months and set her down slowly, sliding her down the length of his body, letting her feel the desire she inspired in him. Even before her feet touched the floor, she turned and sought his mouth. He gave it to her, captured her lips in a deep kiss, explored her mouth, sought her flavor, luxuriated in the texture of her velvety tongue, and drank down the sweet mewls of pleasure as she exhaled.
His fingers had not been still. They played over the fastenings of her gown, undoing the row of buttons down her back, unwrapping her like the most precious of gifts. When his mouth finally left hers, it was to slide across her downy cheek, down the slim column of her throat.
“You looked so lovely tonight. I could hardly wait to get you home to devour you.”
She chuckled at his declaration. Her hands had not been still either. They had undone the knot of his necktie and the top button of his shirt, and now her questing lips were also cruising along his throat, dotting it with kisses and little licks that weredriving him crazy with want, inflaming his desire to dangerous levels.
He needed her out of this dress now. Stepping out of her embrace, he turned her away from him to focus on his task of undoing the maddening row of buttons. But the curve of her neck where it met her shoulders still distracted him, the creamy skin calling to his mouth.
The last of the buttons undone, he pressed his mouth to the center of her back, right above the edge of her corset. So many layers. He was desperate to have her naked under his touch, and at the same time wanted to savor this unveiling. To cherish every inch of skin he revealed.
He found the laces of her petticoats and crinolines, untied them, and pushed the gown off her shoulders with a caress down her arms. The entire mass of silk collapsed to the floor in a froth of fabric.
Before she could step out of it, he held her with an arm around her waist and the other around her chest and lifted her, dragging her backwards. The curve of her bottom, covered only by the thin fabric of her drawers, pressed against his aching erection, and the minx arched and rubbed into it, pillowing his cock between the soft cheeks of her buttocks. He tightened his hold on her, rocking into it, while his hand snaked down the front to cup her mound, his fingers delving through the opening of her drawers to find moist heat at her core.
“So wet. So ready for me.” His voice was an indistinct murmur in her ear.
“Yes.” The word was a moan of ecstasy as she dropped her head back onto his shoulder.
His fingers played slowly over slick flesh, finding her button, tormenting it until her breathing fractured and she was panting, her hips jerking in a steady rhythm that matched the tempo of her need.
“Kai…” she sobbed. His name on her lips was the most erotic sound he had ever heard.
“Yes, my darling. Let go. Fly free. I’ll catch you..”
He traced the delicate whorl of her ear with his tongue before biting down on it with controlled pressure. She exploded in his arms. Her flesh pulsing against his fingers, while her slight weight pressed more firmly into him, as if her legs needed his support, having lost their strength not from injury this time, but from mind-numbing pleasure.
But he wasn’t done. Not even close. Guiding her a couple of steps toward the bed, he set her palms around the bedpost.
“Hold on,” he commanded, and she obeyed, wrapping her hands around the wood.
He tore at the laces of her corset with contained ferocity, loosening the garment until it fell to the floor with a thud.
At last, her body was free for the exploration of his hands. He cupped her breasts through the thin lawn of her chemise, the material a flimsy barrier that could not disguise her stiffening peaks and warming skin.
“I love your breasts,” he whispered in her ear. “I love the feel of them in my hands, so round, perky, and dainty, just like the rest of you. Do you like it when I touch them?”
“You know I do.” Her voice was a breathy whisper of need.
“And when I do this?” He pinched her nipples with careful pressure, making her moan and strain toward his touch, her bottom once again backing up to his front. “Tell me.”
“Yes!”
“Do you want my hands directly on your breasts, with no fabric in the way?”
“Please.”
