He pushes off the edge of the table and tucks his hands in his pockets. He slowly rounds the corner of the table toward me. “I didn’t need a reason. I wanted one from you, but I already had one of my own.”
My fingers flinch, ready to reach for him. But instead of stopping before me like I expect him to, he heads for the set of double doors. My heart falls, even as his words lift it up.
“I wantyou, Edwina,” he says over his shoulder, fingertips on one of the handles. “I’m falling for you. That’s my reason.”
“Don’t go,” I say to his back, my voice rich with pleading. “I’ll give you a reason this time. It’s this: I don’t want you to be with anyone else. I don’t want you to kiss or touch or do anything with anyone. Just me.”
His back remains facing me, his fingers still on the handle.
I take a step toward him. “Please stay.”
He shifts to the side and meets my eyes with a soft smile. “I wasn’t leaving, love.”
That’s when I notice the green flowering vines emerging from his palms, twined around the handles and locking them together. That’s when I notice the heat in his gaze. The desire on his face.
He releases the vines and strides my way. When he stops before me, he frames my face with his hands. “But please, beg me to stay again.” His voice is deep and rough, and his touch on my cheeks trembles with restraint.
I tilt my chin and part my lips. “Stay.”
He devours that word with a kiss.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
EDWINA
William’s kiss is hard and demanding, and I meet his lips with equal fervor. His tongue slides into my mouth, and I tilt my head back, savoring his taste, some bittersweet spirit on his breath. His hand winds to my nape, then claws into the base of my hair, loosening my tendrils from their updo. I encircle my arms around his neck, pressing myself against him as if we could melt into one. Now that he’s in my arms—mine and no one else’s—I don’t want to let him go, even for a breath.
He steps in even closer, urging me to step back. Without breaking our kiss, I let him guide me step after step until my backside comes up against the edge of the billiards table. Only then does he release my lips, hoisting me up and propping me on the edge. With unexpectedly gentle motions, he removes my spectacles.
“Is this all right?” he whispers.
My vision blurs, but I don’t mind it if it means removing one more layer between us. “Yes.”
He sets my lenses aside and brings his lips to my neck. My lashes flutter shut as he trails kisses over the high collar of my lace blouse, then along the edge of my jaw to the corner where it meets my ear. Then his lips are on mine again, and I’m already open for the sweep of his tongue, the sharing of breaths. He lifts the hem of my blouse, untucking it from my skirt before roving his palms over the front of my corset, rounding the curve that covers my breast.
I’ve never had anything other than neutral feelings when it comes to corsets, but I hate them now. Hate the thick material for hampering my ability to feel more of his touch. His fingertips wander to the top of my corset, running over the lace trim and making my skin pebble when I’m finally graced with his skin against mine. I arch against his hand, signaling what I want from him.
His smiles against my lips. “Feeling greedy, Weenie?”
“Yes. I want you to touch me. All of me.”
“Oh, I’ll do more than touch.” His hand slides to the back of my corset and begins tugging at the laces. I move my fingers to my collar and undo my buttons with clumsy haste, uncaring if I pop them off my blouse entirely. By the time my blouse is open, William has untied my corset. I shrug off my top and let it slide down my arms to the billiards table beneath me. William’s fingers come to the front of my corset, unhooking the top clasps until the garment gapes open. He slips his hand beneath the structured ivory brocade and cups my breast, his thumb circling my nipple, hardening it to a stiff peak. I brace my hands on the table and arch back. My other breast crests the top of my corset, and he takes that nipple into his mouth. His tongue flicks over the sensitive bud, and I throw my head back with a moan. I wanthim to lift my skirts and step closer so I can hook my legs around him, gain some relief from the heat coiling at my center.
His teeth graze my nipple as his mouth leaves my breast to trail over my collarbone, then up the column of my throat until our lips meet again. My hands leave the table to find the clasp at the back of my skirt.
William steps back, his heavy-lidded eyes drinking me in. I expect him to unclasp the rest of my corset to see me fully bare, but instead, he takes another step away.
“Lay back, love.”
I do as I’m told, falling back until I’m propped on my forearms. Just when I think he might help me out of my skirt by tugging the waist down, he lifts it from the hem instead, baring my calves. His expert fingers find the laces of my boots, and he holds my gaze while he removes them. Then my stockings. Finally, he trails his touch up my bare leg to my knee, then my inner thigh. His eyes are still locked on mine as he reaches the outer hem of my panties. He strokes the silk covering my already slick center. His grin turns wicked as he watches my lips part. My forearms turn to jelly at his next stroke, and I let myself collapse fully onto the table. But there’s still a layer between us. I want his skin on mine.
“More,” I beg, voice breathless.
He gives in to my demand, sliding the flimsy silk down my hips, my legs, and drops the undergarment to the floor. Then he hikes my skirt higher and glides a finger straight over my sex, parting my seam. My lashes flutter shut and I release a soft moan.
“You’re aching for my touch, aren’t you?” William whispers. With his free hand, he braces my knee, gently guiding my legs wider. “How long have you been aching for me?”
“A while.”
