“But servants,” she protested, weakly. Her heart wasn’t invested in this protest. Still… “Your estate manager knows we’re here.”
“Precisely.”
“Precisely?”
“They know to stay away.”
“How can you be sure they will listen?”
A sardonic glint shone in his eyes. “Because I am Ravensworth.”
Seb was gone. Here—between her trembly legs, in fact—stood Ravensworth.
Direct and certain…
Entirely too arrogant…
Entirely too attractive.
Oh, how she desired this man—with all his dark intention and arrogance.
He angled his head and pressed his mouth to the space just behind her ear as he began bunching up her skirts.
“Don’t you want to make love on a stage?” he spoke against her skin.
The breath stuck in her lungs. The very idea… It felt so…transgressive. And yet… “Yes,” she near whimpered.
He angled back, the knowing glint in his eyes sending a streak of lust straight through her. He brought his thumb to his mouth and gave it a long, slow lick. Then he reached between their bodies, between her parted legs, and stroked the slick finger along her slit, all the while watching her reaction. “You like that, don’t you?”
“Oh, yes.”
He sank to the ground, so he now knelt before her as if she were his goddess and he naught more than a supplicant. He slid her skirts further up her thighs, coarse fustian sliding across her skin. Anticipation fizzed through her, slipping molten through her veins, sending goosebumps racing across her skin.
Wider, he pushed her knees apart. A cool wisp of air brushed across her exposed quim. His irises became thin golden rings as his gaze lowered to the brazen, bare sight of her, sending a bolt of heat through her—the give and take of desire…the way that give and take only enhanced it. “Delilah, the sight of you…” His gaze flicked up to meet hers. “Shall I describeyouto you?”
Oh, my.
She nodded.
“Pink,” he said and kissed her inner thigh, “and glistening”—another kiss…higher…closer—“and effulgent like a hothouse flower in bloom.”
Alongside lust and pleasure traced another feeling. One she couldn’t examine in this moment, but one that might keep her up nights in the future.
“Remember what I did with my fingers under the stage?”
“How could I forget?”
Truly.
“There’s another way.” Oh, the wickedness that shimmered off him. “It feels even better.”
Chapter Eleven
Before Delilah couldask how that could possibly be true, Sebastian’s mouth continued its trail up the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, and a held sigh poured out of her. “That feels…oh…”
The rest of the sentence became lost to history as his mouth moved along her thigh, his tongue a wet slide up…up…up… Her sex throbbed… It ached… It needed… Itdemanded.
Could it be that where his fingers once touched her his mouth would—
