“This is perfectly satisfactory.”
“We should—”
If he said they should stop one more time, she would throw something. “Right here is perfectly fine,” she said firmly. She wasn’t about to have him change his mind on the way upstairs.
Seduction was a step further than mere flirtation, but she put the tips he’d given her to use, biting her lip and looking at him through her lashes. “Please,” she said, her voice unintentionally breathy.
His hips shifted underneath her as though he couldn’t quite keep them still, and his hands fisted in the back of her dress. “Annabelle—”
“Just say yes.”
“This is what you want?”
“Yes.” She stroked the rough line of his jaw. It looked as though he had not shaved today, and she liked the feel of it against her lips as she brushed them against his chin. “Just you, just me, together in this room.”
He groaned. “I can deny you nothing when you ask.”
“Please,” she said again, kissing down his neck. “Please, Jacob. Show me. I want to know everything.”
His palm flattened against her back. “If you change your mind, tell me. We can stop at any time.”
“I won’t want to stop.”
“I mean it, Annabelle. I can’t—” He closed his eyes briefly. His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “I can’t let history repeat itself.”
“It won’t,” she murmured against his pulsepoint at the hollow of his throat. “My eyes are open. I choose this.”
“Then we will do it my way.” He took her hands, which had been straying down his torso, and put them firmly on his chest again. “Slowly.”
She gave an impatient wiggle. “How slowly?”
He rasped a chuckle and kissed her again, fingers nimble against the laces of her dress, only drawing back to tug it over her head. Her stays and chemise went the same way, and then she was sitting on him wearing nothing but her stockings.
“Keep those on,” he said hoarsely, tugging them up over her knees. His eyes were filled with such open admiration, she forgot to be shy even as the cool air caressed her bare skin. “There is one thing I need from you, love.”
She held onto his shoulders, digging her fingers in. “Yes?”
“Whatever else you choose, do not regret this.” With one thumb, he smoothed the reddened pink of her nipple, coaxing it to stand firm and hard. She sucked in a quiet, helpless breath and he smiled in satisfaction. “Promise me, Annabelle.”
“I promise.”
“Because I do not think I will ever be able to regret this.” His touch turned primal, possessive, as though he knew he was the first to lay hands on her skin. The first to claim her.
That thought, too, sent a rush of wild heat through her. She was aflame, burning in his lap, and he was stoking her higher with every sensual stroke. His mouth followed his hands, worshipping every inch of skin until she was rosy with it.
“Beautiful,” he muttered, before sucking her nipple into his mouth. Her head tipped back. “So beautiful.”
Annabelle smiled helplessly, because to be considered beautiful by a man who offered compliments so sparingly, was a pleasure so exquisite it almost hurt.
“What about you?” she asked between breaths. “We are not equal.”
He looked up at her questioningly. “How so?”
“You are still wearing all your clothes.”
“Ah.” A smug, altogether too-male smile crossed his face. “So you want to see me naked, do you, little bird?”
“Half of London already has, so you may as well show me.”
