For a moment, there was a charged silence. Until Della broke it with a whisper. “You could join me if you like.”
Lyman could scarcely breathe. He must have fallen asleep beside Della and slipped into a dream.
You shouldn’t. It will only make things harder when you part ways.
But Lyman didn’t want to stop and consider all the reasons he should refuse. He didn’t want to be rational. What he wanted was to forget himself for long enough to be with Della—to drink up every drop of pleasure she offered and damn the consequences. Lyman lowered himself back upon the bed. Not as he had a minute ago,when he’d taken care not to touch her. This time he would touch her everywhere.
He settled his weight on top of Della as he claimed her lips. Lyman was already growing hard, and pressed his hips into hers, but was frustrated to find only infinite layers of fabric to meet him. She winced slightly.
“Forgive me. Am I too heavy?” Lyman withdrew, propping himself on his elbows.
“It’s not that,” she assured him. “Just that this gown isn’t meant for lying down in.” With a wicked smile, she added, “Could you help me?” and rolled onto her stomach, exposing a long line of buttons to his reach. Lyman set to work on them at once, but the blasted things were so small that it was hard to push them through the delicate fabric loops on the other side. It was rather like trying to unwrap a long-awaited present, only to discover that the giver had seen fit to bury it beneath five layers of paper and twelve types of ribbon.
“I’m going to need your help getting back into all this again,” Della pointed out, once they had finally succeeded in wrestling her free of her gown and Lyman was growling his frustration at the laces on her corset. “Try not to rip anything.”
“Might we not burn it instead?”
Ladies’ maids were criminally underpaid, if they had to do this twice a day.
But when the task was finally done, the sight of Della naked was worth it.Holy hell.
Lyman groaned, falling upon her like a starving man before a feast, running his hands over every inch of her generous curves. Her full, round breasts and the gentle slope of her belly before it reached the spread of her hips. She was so soft. Like silk everywhere.
Della had already removed several of his layers while he’d stillbeen undressing her, and Lyman’s clothes quickly joined her gown on the floorboards.
“We have to be careful,” she warned him. “I don’t want any accidents.”
“Don’t worry,” he whispered. “There’s plenty we can do together without any risk.”
***
Della considered this pronouncement, though it was quite difficult to concentrate while Ashton was running his lips down the sensitive skin of her throat and his hand was toying with her breasts. She shivered.
She wanted to undo him completely. To drive him wild with desire and smash his typical restraint into pieces. But he was the one drivingherself-control away.
He has an unfair advantage, really, as my self-control isn’t much to start with.
Della ran her hands down the firm planes of Ashton’s body, over the scruff of hair on his chest, down his waist, until she landed on his cock and gripped it firmly. His answering groan was delicious. She began to stroke, relishing the heat of his skin in her palm and the urgent pace of his breath. Ashton copied her example, slipping his fingers inside her. He didn’t ask for any guidance this time, falling expertly into the rhythm she’d shown him before. Della was truly lost now.
They pleasured each other this way for a few minutes, until Ashton caught her wrist and pulled her hand away.
“No more,” he rasped, his face tight. “I want you to finish first.”
“I don’t mind,” Della reassured him. “I’d like to see you come apart.”
“Imind.” He was using his Stern Viscount Voice, the one she hadn’t heard much of since they’d grown more friendly. She might have missed it, at least a little. “I intend to ravish you completely. You may only touch me again once the job is done.”
Della couldn’t very well argue with that. In fact, the command in his voice was doing just as much for her as his touch. “Very well,” she replied breathlessly. “How do you plan to begin?”
“Tell me what you want.”
“No, no,” Della insisted. “I like it better when you take charge with that scolding tone of yours.”
“I don’t scold.” Ashton drew back, affronted.
“You do, but it’s enjoyable in the proper setting.”
He scoffed but seemed to consider this. When he looked at Della again, his face had grown more serious.
