Her entire body spasmed. Her muscles clenched around his finger, kneading him. His thumb continued stroking her until the tremors subsided and she fell face forward against his shoulder, panting.
“That,” he murmured into her hair, “is what I wanted to do in the summerhouse.”
Her muscles contracted again at the thought.
He slid his finger from her gently, smoothed down her gown, cradled her to him. His cheek rested atop her head. Evangeline wrapped her arms around his chest and held tight. His heart was beating as fast as her own. His shaft still throbbed against her.
“May I touch you?” she asked.
He seemed to grow even harder against her thigh.
“Not here,” he said. “Too messy.”
She lifted her head until her gaze met his. “When can I?”
“Evangeline,” he said, his voice hoarse and unsteady, his gaze smoldering with restrained passion. “You don’t have to touch me just because I—”
“Iwantto touch you.” She stroked his cheek with her palm, nipped at his mouth. “I want…everything.”
He swallowed. “Everything?”
She pressed her lips to his and nodded. “Will you?”
His shaft leapt and swelled. She smiled. He may not have realized it, but his body had already given his answer. She opened her mouth and kissed him.
“Tonight,” he gasped between hot, demanding kisses. “I’ll come to you tonight.”
She licked his lower lip. “And you’ll touch me again?”
He closed his eyes and shuddered. “I’ll do anything you ask.”
Chapter 36
He came to her through the bookcase.
Evangeline replaced the poker she’d used to stoke the fire and turned to face him. Gavin was in half dress. She wore nothing but her shift. He looked splendid, as always. Dashing. Hungry.Hers.
Thumbs hooked in waistband, he lounged against the now-closed panel. The intensity of his gaze heated her flesh more than the fire at her back. Now that she’d invited the lion into her den, what was she going to do with him?
She took a tentative step toward him. “What are you doing?”
“Waiting.”
“For what?”
“You.” His mouth smiled, but his eyes suggested he wanted to devour her.
She glanced around her bedchamber. Bookshelf, bookshelf, fireplace, mirror, bed. Yet he continued lounging against the bookshelf, watching her, waiting.
“W-what are you doing?” she asked again.
“I told you.” His eyes held wicked promise. “Anything you ask.”
She wrapped her arms across her chest. “I have toaskfor everything I wish?”
He inclined his head. “I’m yours to command.”
Her arms relaxed. Hmmm. Put that way, she couldn’t help but think of a dozen different things she could ask him to do. Everything he’d done in the studio. And then some.
