Her negative was definitive this time. I was confident to begin my work on the lacings under my fingers. In my eagerness, I loosened it in mere seconds and slid the straps from her shoulders. I traced one finger down her spine, only separated from warm skin by the thin fabric of her chemise. This time my finger tapped down the bumps of her spine instead of the lacing.
“How are you feeling about the chemise. Should it stay or go?”
“Off, please.”
“So polite,” I teased before edging the thin fabric up and over her thighs, her waist, her breasts, her curls. Her whimper was barely audible under my groan. The sight of her, clad in only stockings and slippers, wrenched the sound from me. “So beautiful…”
I took only a moment to enjoy the sight before returning to the newly bared skin I was intently tracing with my lips and tongue, kneeling to reach the lower divots at the base.
“How are you feeling now?” I whispered against her.
“So good…” She seemed unsteady on her feet, the thought that it was due to my ministrations was heady.
I drew both hands up as I slowly stood before cupping her breasts, offering her ample time to stop me. Her answering “Michael”had a potent effect in my breeches. I turned her to face me, and she followed willingly, all previous hints of apprehension seem to have abandoned her. I was left with a flushed, warm woman.
She dragged me, hand fisted in my hair, pulling my lips down to hers. My bare chest met hers, pebbled nipples dragging against my skin. The feeling wrenched an inelegant, desperate grunt from deep inside me. Needing to be closer still, I lifted her by her thighs onto the table behind her. The very same one she hid under all those months ago. This was a much better use for it—crowding against her bare center, hidden only by dark curls.
Delicacy abandoned me in my urgency, and the best I could hope for was something short of brute. Tilting her jaw with my fingers to open her lips to mine, I thrust my tongue deep to slide against hers with an accompanying grind of my hips against her damp mound. She clutched at my shoulders, her small nails branding my flesh. All the while, she breathed quiet desperate noises into my mouth for me to taste. She cried out when I abandoned her lips for the miles of flushed skin that was bared for me to savor. I didn’t have the patience to tease her further. Her tight nipples capping heavy breasts called to me, and I covered one with my mouth and sucked less gently than I ought, pinching the other between two fingers. Her hands fisted in my hair, pulling me impossibly closer.
I switch my attentions to her other breast. I couldn’t neglect it. She curled one of her stocking-clad legs around my hip to pull my arousal against hers. Our matching groans echoed in the empty library. I could sense her wetness through the thick fabric of my breeches and felt myself harden even more desperately.
I wrenched myself from her skin. “Jules. I want to taste you. Can I taste you?”
“Anything…” She tried to drag my mouth back to her breasts. Briefly, the fog of arousal cleared enough for me to realize that she might not have grasped my meaning.
I slipped a hand from her chest down, brushing it against her damp curls. “I want to taste you here.”
Her moan might have been my name. It was difficult to determine, but she nodded enthusiastically and pulled my lips back to meet hers.
She tragically broke away to whisper, “Anything, anywhere you want. I’m yours.”
I couldn’t help but thrust my still-clothed erection against her cleft in response. I reluctantly pulled my hips away, working my way down in damp kisses and nips. I paused to appreciate her breasts once more, to nibble on a rib, swirl my tongue in her navel, and press a fervent kiss just above her mound. I urged her to lie back before settling to my knees before her. Her shyness peaked once more, but she followed my lead, her thighs pressed closed against my scrutiny.
Her eyes met mine over the curving lines of her body, gaze still sensual, the heat in them slightly dampened.
“Yes?” I offered her one more opportunity to decline my advances. Her nod was still sure.
Instead of pressing my lips straight to her center, I decided to ease her into the idea. I grasped one slipper-clad foot in my hand, sliding it off her foot. Once free of its confines, I glided my hands up to grasp the top of her stockings, held up by a simple fold, and guided it down her leg. Lips followed silk with only the slightest of detours to the back of her knee. She gave me a whimper for my efforts. I repeated the process with her other leg.
She was finally completely bare before me. Rubbing her outer thighs comfortingly, I pressed another kiss above her center before gently parting her legs, sliding first one, then the other over my shoulder.
For a moment, I breathed in the sight of her, slick pink center spread for my perusal. It was a rush to realize my breath brushing across her slit increased her arousal. I didn’t recognize it until her needy pants met my own. When I could hold back no longer, I covered her with my mouth, lips and tongue more enthusiastic than skilled. Her eyes held mine as I tasted her for the first time. She was even sweeter here, but also earthier. It was intoxicating, and I never wanted to leave. I was distracted as I tongued her nub and entrance in equal measure, finally settling into a rhythm. Working her pearl with my tongue and lips, I thrusted a finger in time. When I curled the finger up on the exit, her hand fisted tightly in my hair, her hips lifting desperately from the table, seeking. Her grip on my hair was just shy of painful and all the more arousing for it.
Now that I’d discovered what she liked, I stayed with that, only pausing to add a second finger. All too soon, she was clenching around my fingers. I strengthened my thrusts and pressed harder against her with my tongue before fixing my lips around her bud and sucking. All at once, a half scream half groan burst from her and her channel tightened rhythmically against my probing fingers. I froze, keeping the pressure constant, and she worked around me. One by one, her muscles unclenched, and I pulled my lips away reluctantly. I slipped my fingers free from her but kept a gentle palm pressed against her arousal. I didn’t want her to come too far down; I wasn’t finished with her yet.
Thirty
GRAYSON HOUSE, LONDON - JULY 1, 1814
JULIET
That was heaven.I had the same thought that day in the rain, that it was the very definition of ecstasy, but this… Words were insufficient. I slowly returned to my body from my visit to the stars. Michael kept a palm pressed against my center, something substantial to thrust against when occasional shudders ran through me. As awareness returned, and I realized I was offering desperate whimpers with each heaving breath. The blood rushing through my ears slowed, I realized he had been whispering to me between gentle kisses to my thighs and stomach. “My sweet Duchess, so passionate for me. How did I get so lucky? So lovely—”
My lips and throat were dry from panting for him, but eventually, I was able to form the letters of his name. I struggled to rise and, once he figured out my intention, he offered his assistance, cradling me to his chest.
“Was that supposed to happen?”
He chuckled. “That was the intention, yes.”
