“Now she wants to be partners.” He slanted his gaze toward the ceiling.
“James.” Her expression was pleading.
“How can I refuse you?” He rubbed her bottom lip. “I have a plan, but it can wait until after.”
“After what?”
He pulled her closer. “After I make love to my wife.”
Even as he bent his head, she tilted hers, their lips meeting in a searing kiss.
Evie felt delirious—with relief, joy, and desire. She’d told James the horrible truth, and he hadn’t rejected her. Somehow, he didn’t despise her…didn’t blame her for what she’d done.
He loves me. My husband loves me.
His mouth was warm and possessive, his taste male and delicious. And he was all hers…finally. As she was his, heart, body, and soul. The recognition made her wild with passion. She fought to deepen the kiss, tangling her tongue with his, drawing him inside her while he groaned. She managed to loosen his cravat, then flung it aside to fumble with the buttons of his shirt.
“Devil and damn.” James’s chuckle was husky. “Feeling impatient, are you, wife?”
“I want you, darling. I can hardly stand it.”
Knowing that he had accepted the worst of her, she no longer needed to hide anything. The freedom was exhilarating. Happiness bubbled like the finest champagne, making her giddy.
Wonder glinted in his gaze. “How did I get so bloody lucky?”
“I am the lucky one. I do adore you. But could you hurry and get out of these clothes?”
“Ladies first.”
He showed his gallantry by disposing of her garments in short order. The man could have been a lady’s maid, she decided, with his long, clever fingers and unerring efficiency. Not even Pauline could have undressed her so quickly…and certainly would not have offered the same heated distraction. His mouth roved over her lips, her neck, her ears as he undid her layer by layer. Soon she stood before him, trembling and exposed, in nothing but her garters and white silk stockings.
“Look at you. You are so beautiful, Evie—you take my breath away.”
The hungry, possessive gaze he raked over her made her feel beautiful. Her nipples budded and her thighs quivered as dew slickened her intimate cove. The sliver of air between them crackled with heat.
“I would rather look at you,” she said breathlessly.
He cocked a brow, then disrobed with casual proficiency while she watched. His discipline and love of sporting was evident in his honed physique. His arms and chest rippled as he stripped off his shirt and removed his shoes. When he shoved down his trousers, her lungs squeezed. Perhaps he was right that Apollo wasn’t the most apt comparison. For while he shared the graceful god’s girdle of muscle at the hips, the shaft that hung between was far less civilized.
He was massively aroused, his cock a fleshy truncheon that looked harder than marble. Veins snaked along the impressive length, all the way to the dripping tip. His equipment was balanced by the pendulous weight of his stones and the neat, curling nest at his groin. When he stood before her in all his virile glory, his shoulders gleaming and erect member swaying between his carved thighs, liquid desire flowed in her veins.
“You are so splendid,” she said reverently.
When he reached for her, she evaded his hands, and his brows snapped together in surprise.
“No,” she told him. “Let me, my darling.”
A half-smile touched his lips, and he let her do as she wished.
She’d touched him countless times, but the act felt different tonight. There was nothing holding her back, nothing terrifying about her desire for her husband. Tonight, her love wouldn’t harm but heal, and she gave in to the pleasure of worshipping what was hers. She ran her hands over his powerful shoulders and down his taut back. When she scraped her nails lightly, his sharp breath made her smile. She caressed his chest, enjoying the sensual scratch of his wiry hair, the way his eyelids drooped when she rubbed her thumbs over his nipples. She took her exploration lower, her fingertips bumping over his ridged abdomen and the defined vee of his hips. When she curled her fingers around his rearing shaft, a feral sound scraped from his throat.
“Enough playing, Evie,” he growled. “I want to pleasure you.”
“No.”
“What do you mean, no?”
If she weren’t so aroused, she might have laughed at his baffled expression.
