“But you are here now. So that won’t be necessary.”
Stone climbed onto the bed beside her. He’d changed out of his evening finery and was wearing her favorite of all his clothes. The ones he’d worn to Gretna and which would always remind her of when he was Rock Chester.
“Why is that you are always dressed, and I am always in some sort of nightclothes?” she teased as her fingers worked at the fasteners on his trousers.
“Dumb luck?” He grinned, tugging at his shirt and then deftly pulling it over his head.
Tabetha’s gaze devoured his chest. How was it possible she’d forgotten how beautiful he was?
“Show me what you would do if I hadn’t come.” His voice was little more than a rasp.
Of course, she had become aroused watching him touch himself, why wouldn’t it be the same for him? But… could she?
The excitement blazing in his gorgeous blue eyes, almost black in the candlelight, was all the reassurance she needed.
“I might have…” Tabetha raised a hand to her breast, drawing lazy circles over the fabric of her gown. The sensation nearly had her begging him to cover the tender flesh with his mouth. “I’d imagine you were sucking and grazing your teeth over me.”
His breath hitched, and she noticed his hands clenched at his sides. “You have an excellent imagination.”
Tabetha bit back a smirk. How long before his control snapped?
She reached over her head and unbuttoned the lace at the back of her gown. One subtle shimmy of her shoulders and the sleeves fell down her arms, exposing her cleavage. With one last nudge, she revealed two pink nipples, which all but stood at attention, begging for his touch.
Three weeks had passed since they’d been together. Three long, torturous weeks. A quiver danced across her skin.
“Like this?” Stone leaned forward. He’d shaved his beard again when they returned to London so rather than scruff, he tormented her with his skin, barely covered by a hint of stubble.
“Yes.” She exhaled. Each tug he made with his mouth increased the tension building in her womb and between her legs.
“And then what would you do?”
Closing her eyes, she lifted her knees, drawing up her gown, and grazed her fingertips along the delicate skin between her thighs.
“Such a tease,” he said. “Like this.” His hand covered hers.
It was surprisingly intimate, almost more intimate than the act of lovemaking itself, his hand showing her where to touch, guiding her fingers where he’d put his own.
“Oh,” she moaned. “Stone.”
“You like this?” He wiggled his finger over hers.
“Right here.” She showed him what she wanted.
“Like this?”
“Yes.” The white lights exploded when that sharp knot of pleasure slipped loose. “Yes.”
All the while he was kissing her and whispering words of love.
“I need inside you.” He’d worked himself free, and Tabetha placed his tip at her entrance.
“Need you.” The tension was building again. “So much.”
“Love you.” He moved in and then out again, filling her, touching her, loving her. “Love you.”
Tabetha laybeside her husband afterward, smiling and feeling better than she had since they’d arrived back in London. “Do you think anyone will be able to tell?”
“That I’ve stolen my bride’s virtue?” Stone tucked her in beside him. “Again?”
