The darker olive color of his hand made for a stark contrast against her pale skin. He was night, she was day. He was hard, she was soft. They were two opposites in every way. But they somehow fit together perfectly.
She was beautifuleverywhere.He’d never doubted it for a second.
“Mr. Beckworth?” She stared down at him, her mouth parted just enough so he could see the tip of her tongue.
“You’re just so beautiful.”
“So are you.”
Something in Leopold broke and he dove in.
“Amelia.”
She tasted even better than she looked.
So. Damn...
Everything.
Her fingers were tugging at his hair, and when he slid his hands beneath her so he could get closer, she lifted her hips to help.
He took a moment to scrape his whiskers along her thigh before using his mouth again. But he also used his fingers, and his palm. With each stroke and circle, he felt tension building in her body.
He ignored the tension building in his.
Amelia.
Her name beat in his ears like a heartbeat.
She rolled her hips higher off the table, trembling, reaching. Leopold held one palm low on her belly. And then, still kissing and rubbing, he pushed deeper…
As she climaxed around him, Leopold reveled in the pulsing, the shaking. Not to mention the sound of her voice, chanting his name.
“Mr. Beckworth, Mr. Beckworth,Mr. Beckworth…”
It should have been formal, but it was suddenly the most intimate form of address.
“Oh, my heart. Mr. Beckworth.”
Time stood still, until Leopold’s scalp tingled when she relaxed her grip on his hair.
Now, she would know. And long after she returned to her world, she would remember him.
“That was…” Amelia’s voice drifted between them. “Unexpected.”
Leopold lifted his head from his new favorite place. He needed to look at her. “You’re amazing, love.” He rested his chin just below her navel.
It was extraordinarily satisfying to see her like this.
Because she was, as matter of fact, amazing, but she was also… Uninhibited. Free. Not to mention sexy as hell. Lady Amelia Crowley was just so…
Mine.
As he searched her eyes, the world shifted beneath his feet.
“Come up here, Mr. Beckworth,” she said. “Come tome.”
Straining inside his trousers, he pushed himself off the floor.
