She touched the tip of her tongue to the lobe of his ear. “You know what I’m saying.”
He swept her into his arms and whirled around. “Then yes. At once. Settee? Chair? Do I finally get to ravish you on the carpet?”
“Next time,” she promised. “It’s unconventional, but I was thinking perhaps my bedchamber might do?”
“You are an unpredictable minx,” he marveled and then covered her mouth with his.
She motioned toward the adjoining room without breaking the kiss.
He fumbled for the door, then backed into her bedchamber while cradling her in his arms.
“You were right,” he breathed in admiration. “This carpet is far superior to the carpet in your drawing room.”
“Bed,” she commanded.
His gaze was suddenly serious. “You’re certain?”
More than he knew. The only thing she knew for certain was the man in her arms loved her as much as she loved him. Whatever the morrow might bring, they could at least share one moment of passion.
“Bed,” she repeated firmly. “Then everyone takes off their clothes.”
“Impertinent baggage.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “I like it.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You’re exploring too slowly.”
“I’m savoring,” he protested, but he lay her in the center of the bed and climbed in beside her, the front of his body flush with one side of hers.
Her heart pounded as she stared back at him. She had never been savored before. She hadn't even known that taking one’s time would make the anticipation all the more erotic.
“You’re beautiful,” he said softly. The intensity of his gaze melted her. “I can feel when you enter a room, and from that moment, I’m lost. My eyes belong to you.”
“Not true,” she stammered. “I’m unremarkable by design. No one looks at me twice.”
“I have you memorized.” He closed his eyes and nuzzled her hair. “Your hair is as soft as I’d always imagined it to be. Thick and brown and lustrous, begging for my hands, or to be spread out on my pillow. Even when you try to hide in shadow, light from the chandelier finds you, and this soft, glorious hair shimmers and winks and tempts.”
She tried to speak and couldn’t. “I…”
His mouth moved from her hairline to the shell of her ear.
“I know every dip and whorl,” he murmured, “because every time I see you, I imagine the things I would whisper into your ears if only I dared. Words that only lovers share.”
Her pulse skipped. “Tell me now.”
She could feel his smile against her skin, slow and wicked and full of promise.
“If I tell you…” he said between feathery kisses to the lobe of her ear and the sensitive pulse point just beneath. “If I tell you, you’ll have all the power. I can’t let you know that every time I look at you, I imagine myself inside you, with your legs clamped about me in pleasure.”
“Do it.” She reached for him, tried to pull his mouth to hers.
He rolled on top of her instead, propping himself on his elbows in order to place devastating kisses down the curve of her neck, the hollow beneath her shoulder, the top of her breast where it strained against her bodice.
He had not touched her anywhere intimate yet, and already her body was more alive than it had ever been. Every part of her seemed hotter, heavier, longing for his touch.
She touched him instead, allowing her fingers to explore what had previously only been exposed to her gaze. He was hot and solid, the weight of him thrilling against her.
“Naked,” she gasped. “Don't we have to be naked for magic to happen?”
“There are endless ways to make magic happen,” he promised, his lips brushing tantalizingly against her bosom with each word. “Mouth to breast… hip to hip… mouth even lower...”
