Lydia moved to twist around on him, just as she had before, but this time, he held her in check.
“But…”
Jeremy cut off her delicate protest easily enough. “Let me,” he whispered against her lips. “I want to touch you.”
His hand abandoned her breast so he could gather her skirts in his fist, edging the hem up past her knee to where her stocking ended—stockings held in place by silk ribbons wrapped around each perfect thigh. He was glad the curtains on the window had been left open, allowing enough light from the moon to filter inside so he could fully appreciate those perfect thighs. Plump, pale, and tender. The blood thrumming through his veins felt like fire.
“I want to taste you.”Everywhere. He plucked at one of the ribbons, and then dipped his hand between her legs, brushing the back of his fingers over skin that was more delicate than a butterfly’s wings.
Her gaze, occasionally reflecting flashes of the moonlight, didn’t waver from his. It was so very like her, not to shy awayfrom her feelings or to question something that felt so natural and right.
He skimmed up that soft skin to caress the petals at her opening. “You like this?” His own breathing sounded loud in his ears. She was wet and slick and willing.
“Yes.” So straightforward. “I want…”
“What?”
“More.”
Jeremy took only a moment to fondle her seam before extending his finger inside. “Like that?”
She licked her lips and nodded.
He didn’t know what excited him more, touching her like this, or watching her while he did so. As he moved in and out, and then stretched her with a second finger, her breaths turned into gasps, and all the while, she gazed at him trustingly.
It felt more intimate than anything he’d ever done.
He drew lazy circles around velvety flesh and then explored higher.
“Jeremy!” she surrendered, closing her eyes and dropping her head backward.
There was so much wonder about her. Jeremy drank in the graceful length of her neck, her breasts heaving, the tip of her tongue as it reached just beyond the pearls of her teeth.
The carriage was turning, and the light from one of the street lanterns gave him a glimpse of his arm reaching between her legs. The sight amplified the throbbing in his cock, and he closed his eyes, willing her to reach around and?—
He never quite finished that thought when the springs on the carriage suddenly sent the two of them flying.
His driver jerked the vehicle but had failed to avoid the large rut hidden by the darkness.
Holding Lydia on his lap, and both hands, er, occupied, Jeremy barely managed to cushion her fall as both of them were thrown to the floor.
The carriage came to a halt, and here they were again, him fully clothed and entirely too aroused for the circumstances. Or perhaps it was understandable.
Because once again she was straddling him, each leg bent at the knee along his hips and her center pressing down in such a way that was certain to lead to far greater improprieties.
“Pardon my driving,my lord! My apologies to the lady. Is everyone all right back there?” Lydia heard the driver’s voice through the sliding door, but when she went to speak, nothing came out.
“I believe so, Phillips. Are you hurt, Lydia?” Jeremy’s voice sounded even as his body vibrated beneath her.
“No. No. I’m fine.” At least her voice was functioning again.
“Would you like me to turn for Heart Place now, my lord?”
Lydia went to move, but Jeremy’s hands held fast to her hips. “Not quite yet. I’ll let you know.”
“Very good, my lord.” The small door slid closed then, and after a moment, with a gentle lurch, they were on the move again.
With no way to keep her balance, Lydia fell forward, dropping her hands onto Jeremy’s shoulders. “You are my prisoner now,” she teased. Of course, he could escape if he wanted to.
