“Yes…” I breathed, unable to stop myself. “It’s not— I don’t?—”
“No, I know,” he rushed to assure me. “It’s not an acceptance. I wouldn’t accept anything so reluctant anyway.”
“I just… If I were to— It wouldn’t…notbe you.”
“Wouldn’t not?” His brow hit the curls tangled across his forehead.
“That is what I said.”
“It wouldn’t not be me…” he repeated, a full, warm smile crossing his face. My lips twitched at the sight.
“It’s not a yes.”
“I’d gathered that. Solicitor, you know. I’m very skilled at interpreting vague, tricky language. But it wasn’t a no either.”
“Kit…”
He straightened, facing me fully. “Do you know what I’ve just realized?”
“What?”
With both hands, he grabbed my hips and hauled me overtop him. He settled each of my knees against his hips, ignoring my astonished squeak entirely. “I’m wasting valuable time.”
He cupped my jaw and tugged my lips down to his. A sigh escaped me when we touched, and I felt him sink into the cushions below.
The first press was soft, adoring. His fingers traced my chin, my jaw, my neck, settled against my shoulders, and pulled me closer at the same moment his tongue swept the seam of my lips.
I thought kissing merely involved the mouth, but the man kissed with his entire body. He sank into it, he surged forward, he wrapped me in his arms, he was everywhere, all at once, moving against me.
I was trapped in tangled layers of skirts and underthings, unable to close the distance the way we both wanted.
For the first time, I felt his smile against my skin. It was quick, bright, and replaced quickly when I opened my mouth to him.
While his tongue worked every last thought away, his hand traced from my knee, down, down, down to my ankle. There he found the hem of my skirts.
Kit proceeded to rip an astonished grasp from my chest when he grabbed the hem of the skirts, petticoats, and chemise, and yanked the lot up to my waist in a swift movement.
“Kit!”
“No?” he asked, finding that precise spot on my jaw he’d identified yesterday and then set about stripping every last thought from my head. I clutched his shoulders and neck, desperately trying to regain an equilibrium. “Davina, yes or no?”
I couldn’t remember the question, not in the wake of the smooth whiskey of his voice. But I knew the answer. “Yes.”
“Good.” He pulled away and tipped my chin to meet his gaze. His free hand found my ankle again, his heat burning through threadbare stockings. “Davina, I’ve had months to try and fail to avoid thinking about what I might like to do to you—with you—” He broke off, distracted with the hinge where my neck and jaw met. A mewling noise came from somewhere in my throat when he pulled away. “In every one of those fantasies, you’re an enthusiastic participant.”
“Kit…” It seemed to be the only word I was capable of at the moment.
“You’re my brave, brazen, beautiful menace. You’ll tell me if I do something that isn’t to your liking, won’t you? I only want to please you.”
Who was this man? Where was my buttoned-up solicitor? Where did he learn to say things like that? Why were they affecting me so?
“Kit,” I whimpered as he found my clavicle with his tongue.
“Say no, Davina,” he whispered against my skin.
“No?”
“Good, remember that word.” He pulled back from the skin of my throat, his lidded gaze meeting mine. “Now, just as important, you must promise to tell me whenever I do something thatisto your liking. You’re free to use whatever words—or sounds—you wish.” His hand slid up my calf, his fingers catching in the notch behind my knee before continuing doggedly forward.
