His lips drifted away from mine to wreak havoc on the rest of my person. I could take in great heaving breaths of that distinct combination of ink and parchment that clung to him, while he found every place on my neck and chest that he’d already claimed. They were his now, the place beneath my ear, the divotat my throat, the dip in my collarbones, the crevice between my breasts. Never again could I touch them—see them—without thinking of soft lips and the tantalizing nip of his beard.
When his lips reached the edge of my nightgown, he traced the hem with his tongue. “Did you bring this with me in mind? Or are all of your night clothes this lovely? Lovely and flimsy…”
“For you. I didn’t know it, but it was for you.”
“Right answer, darling. Now, much as I will treasure the sight of you, wrapped up pretty as a picture all for me. This needs to be elsewhere. Yes?”
At my nod, he pulled the fabric up and over my head in one swift movement, then tossed it away. And then he froze.
His gaze should have been unnerving. But this was Kit, and there was fire in his eyes and awe in his open-mouthed gape. For a moment his chest didn’t move at all, then his breath came more rapidly.
When his gaze dipped from my breasts to the curls below, it was my turn to forget how to breathe.
He stood, and I understood in that moment, just how perfectly we would fit together. He was made for me. Kit wouldn’t have to stoop to kiss me, no contortions would be necessary for that hard, proud part of him to slide inside. He could live inside me, forever, and neither of us would need to move for discomfort.
He ripped a gasp from my lips when he bent, just the tiniest bit, and grabbed just under my thighs to pick me up. Kit chuckled as my arms and legs scrambled for purchase. “I’ve got you.”
When he settled me on the bed a moment later, I clung to him, enjoying the way the muscles of his shoulders bunched and flexed.
He pulled too far away to continue to grasp, and I followed up onto my elbows. And then he settled onto his knees on the floor.
“Yes?” he asked, his hands rubbing the tops of my stockings.
“Yes, please.”
Kit’s smile was quick and blinding before he pressed a kiss to my knee and then dragging the silk down my leg, slowly, drawing out the caress of silk on skin. He turned his attentions to the other one, pulling it free with the same care.
He rubbed the tops of my thighs with both hands, not a sensuous touch, but a comforting one. “I want to taste you. Do you want that too?”
My cheeks heated even as I nodded.
“Remember the words?” he asked.
I sat all the way up, caught one soothing hand, and laced our fingers together. “I must say no if you do something I do not like.”
“Good.” He kissed my other knee, peering up at me with heat in his gaze. “And…”
“Yes, when you do something that pleases me.”
“I’ll also accept ‘more, please,’ ‘Kit,’ prayers to a deity of your choosing, and any groans or whimpers ripped from your body.”
“Cocky.”
“Mostly determined,” he retorted, then squeezed my hand before settling and dragging my leg up to his lips. He rained kisses from ankle to thigh before resting my leg on his shoulder. “Breathe, Davina. It’s just you and me on an adventure.”
The words, the earnest tone, the adoration in his eyes, it was too much. I felt tears welling, and I blinked them back desperately. “We’re quite good at those, aren’t we?”
“The best.” His smile was perfection, sweet, warm, and full of love.
And then, without warning, he grabbed my hip with one hand and yanked me to the edge of the bed. Without giving me a moment to be self-conscious about his face pressed to my center, he descended on me.
He licked a single stripe along my opening, top to bottom, groaning in appreciation, and I forgot the entire concept of self-consciousness.
Kit must have taken notes earlier in the carriage, for there was none of the exploratory hesitance. Instead he applied the movements he’d perfected with his fingers to his tongue. He worked my bud with the exact pressure and motion I liked.
When he slipped a finger inside my channel, he ripped a, “Kit!” from me.
I felt his smile against my flesh, at least three-quarters of one. Pushing myself back onto my elbows, I dug a hand into his hair. His eyes met mine down the length of my body and it was the most erotic sight of my life.
