“Is this a seduction?” she murmured into his hair.
He lifted his face, his dilated eyes smoldering. “I’ve never been more seduced.”
Neither had Matilda, but that had never been in question. She gave up on subtext and phrased her thoughts more boldly. “No, I mean… Is this a proposal?”
The earl reared away from her as if her bodice had caught on fire, his expression nothing short of terrified. “I cannot offer you marriage. I’m sorry. You should go. I can’t be what you want.”
“You already are what I want.” She grasped his lapels and pulled him back toward her. “I would rather take what you can give than not have you at all.”
“Even if I cannot be your husband?”
“Even then.”
His expression was tortured. “I should be strong enough to walk away.”
She reached for him. “Please don’t. For me. For both of us.”
He let out a ragged breath, then his mouth captured hers once more. Each kiss intense almost to the point of desperation. As if he had feared for a moment that they’d already shared their final kiss. No, that wasn’t it. The truth was, Titus knew without a doubt that this would be their only passionate encounter, and he didn’t want to miss out on a single kiss. Matilda had been right all along: her time with Titus was to be her greatest adventure after all.
And all adventures must come to an end.
She kissed him while she still had him, trying to commit every detail to memory. The solid heat of his body, the sweet taste of his tongue, the softness of his hair, the slight tickle of half his stubbled jaw as his seductive kisses sank toward her bosom once more.
“May I?” he asked before his mouth made contact.
“Please,” she managed.
He lowered her bodice. Cool air rushed over her bared breasts, and her nipples tightened. Further. Her nipples tightened further. They had already become taut peaks from the first moment she realized where his kisses were headed.
She gasped when his mouth closed around the tip of her breast. His tongue toyed with her nipple the way his tongue had played with hers during their kisses. Every lick ricocheted throughout her entire body, causing an unbearable ache to build between her legs.
As if sensing her need, he reached toward her skirts to pull up her hems.
He froze when his palm spanned the top of her stocking, just above her knee. “What’s this?”
“Silk,” she replied innocently.
She couldn’t help but tease him. Of course he was not asking her to name the style of fabric. And what material it was! Madame Theroux had supplied several pairs of stockings in the softest, smoothest silk, each dyed a scandalous color. Today’s were pink. Ever since her waltz with Titus, Matilda had donned a new pair every morning just in case there was a chance he might glimpse her undergarments and be tempted.
And oh was he tempted!
He tossed her hems up to her thighs without ceremony in his eagerness to feast his eyes on her silk-clad legs, with their garters made of Swiss lace threaded with sinful scarlet ribbons.
She hid a grin. “Does it please you?”
“Please me?” He smoothed his palms up her legs, then ran a fingertip beneath the lacy flounce of her garter. “I wish I had five mouths so that I could kiss you everywhere at once.”
“Try your best,” she teased.
“Don’t you worry. I will.”
Rather than raise his lips back to her bosom, he allowed his hands to caress her breasts instead. As for his mouth, Titus lowered his face between her thighs, kissing the exposed skin above each garter, then slowly moving his way north, tossing aside her skirts with his teeth to expose more and more of her flesh, until—
Matilda’s mouth fell open in surprise when his tongue touched the place she’d hoped he would caress with his fingers. Shockwaves rippled through her. This was infinitely better, and far more scandalous than pink silk stockings.
Her head lolled against the arm of the chaise longue at the onslaught of sensation. His fingers on her breasts and nipples, his mouth between her legs. In no time, the pressure that had been gathering since their first kiss built to a crescendo. Before she could warn him that she was dangling on the edge, her body exploded with pulsing waves of pleasure.
Only when the tremors ceased did he still his fingers and lift his head to press a kiss against her thigh. “We can stop here, if you like.”
