He withdrew, bending to reach for something... in his boot? Her breath halted at the sight of the blade in his hand. His eyes steady on hers, he lifted a corset string and slid the blade gently beneath. One cut and the laces unraveled. Her breath returned in a heady, unrestricted rush.
"I say if you want a wild thing, you must set it free." Beneath his penetrating gaze, she once again felt laid bare, vulnerable—only it didn't elicit fear this time, but yearning and arousal.
Could it be? A man who might actually understand me...
"What if she doesn't come back?" she said.
He tossed aside the corset. Grasping the straps at her shoulders, he lowered them down her arms, and her bodice followed. Her spine arched as the fine muslin raked over her nipples, baring the taut peaks to his heated gaze.
"I'd give her a reason to," he said and lowered his head.
She gasped when he drew one sensitive bud into his mouth. When his tongue curled, the sensation shot all the way between her thighs. During her searches through brothels, she'd seen men suckle women—seen much more than that—yet she'd not known the pleasure herself. Indeed, her understanding of sexual matters far outweighed her actual experience. Thomas had been a virgin; in the three times they'd made love, they'd only begun to discover what their bodies could do.
Clearly, Kent had a man's knowledge. A moan tore from her throat as he titillated her nipple with wet flicks. He kept an accompanying rhythm on her other breast, his fingers circling, pinching with just enough pressure to drive her mad. Her spine bowed, her hands clenching in his thick hair as desire swamped her. Years of pent-up longing washed away the remaining vestiges of her self-restraint.
"Don't stop." The words emerged from nowhere, in a panting voice she did not recognize. "Just... don't stop."
"Easy, sweeting. I'm not going anywhere." Even his voice aroused her, the shape of his words pressed against her taut, throbbing peak. "One day, you're going to trust me, to know that I'd never leave you wanting."
She would have argued, but his lips fixed onto her other nipple, and the wildness in her grew to a feverish pitch. Her skin seemed afire, wet heat blazing from her core as he kissed his way down the path between her ribcage. His tongue dipped into her navel, and her hands fisted in the coverlet at the intense, unfamiliar sensation. A tug dragged her petticoat past her hips, baring her most intimate place. Her lungs struggled for air. She told herself to be calm, to just lie back and … His lips touched the inside of her thigh, and the branding kiss drove a gasp from her lips.
"Don't like that?" he said, raising his head to look at her.
"I don't know. It feels a bit strange," she managed.
That line deepened between his brows. "Haven't you been kissed there before?"
She wanted to lie; for some dashed reason, her head shook of its own accord. Confusion clouded his gaze, and she knew what he was thinking.The wicked Baroness Draven has never had a man's mouth between her legs?He'd probably laugh if he knew the truth—or worse yet think that she was an innocent just because she'd not tried the things she knew so much about.
"The fancy has never struck me." Her tone came out as lofty as she could manage given that his thumbs were making mind-melting circles on either side of her quivering sex. "If you wish, however, I give you leave to… gamahuche me."
His eyes flared at her use of the naughty word. Excellent. Let him know she was no naïf.
Then his lips quirked.
"By your leave, then," he said.
She bit back a sound as he parted her aching flesh. Her cheeks burned when he did nothing but study her for long moments. The look of dark hunger on his features titillated her beyond bearing, and her sex grew even wetter.
"Well, are you or aren't you?" she said when she couldn't take the anticipation any longer.
Kent's hooded eyes met hers. In that bright, erotic gaze, there was a hint of… laughter? She began to struggle, but his hands clamped her thighs. Held her open.
His husky words stirred her dampened curls, feeding the fire in her blood. "A man likes to look his fill before he feasts," he said. "Especially when the offering is so decadent."
"You best hurry before the feast gets cold," she said.
"Cold?" His eyes crinkled at the edges. "I don't think so, sweeting. You are all heat…"
The first swipe of his tongue made her gasp with shock. The second had her spine arching off the mattress. Dear God, she'd never felt anything like… Her mind blanked as pure sensation swamped her. She became nothing but the tides of pleasure rolling over her senses. His plain-spoken praise and wicked caresses lifted her higher and higher.
"I love the way you taste. Salty and sweet. You whet my appetite."
As if to prove his assertion, he tongued her slit, thrusting deeply inside her throbbing folds. Her hips bucked, bliss stealing her breath. Her vision wavered as the sensations mounted. She was close, so close…
"Kent," she gasped, "I'm going to… to…"
"Yes, you are." His savage look pushed her right to the precipice. "Spend for me. Right now, with your sweet quim against my mouth—let me taste your pleasure."
