She gasped, her stomach disappearing again, collapsing back onto a pile of discarded lace and linen. His fingers moved deep and deeper still, large and strong, surge after surge. Virginia was vaguely aware of his gaze upon her, knew she was shameless, and she began to writhe and beg. “Please, Devlin, please, come inside me…please!”
He grunted and leaned over her somehow and she felt his mouth on hers, his tongue thrusting deep, even as his hand continued to rock her, and she knew she needed, wanted, had to havemore.
And suddenly his hand was gone. She was in his arms and his phallus rubbed over her sex and she shouted, gripping his shoulders, exploding into a thousand pieces, not once but many times, while he ground himself over her, again and again, panting and murmuring her name.
This time, she lay for an eternity upon the soft piles of silks and satins on the floor, and he lay on top of her, breathing hard, unmoving, still hard and aroused. She began to blush. She began to think. She began to wonder and to worry.
He sat up.
She met his gaze.
His eyes slid over her entire body. A flush mottled his high cheekbones.
Virginia sat, reaching for a fabric and covering herself. She had not expected this. She was stunned but not ashamed, not at all. And she wanted more, so much more.
“It’s a little late for that,” he remarked, eyeing the wisp of pink silk she held.
She wet her lips. She still ached to have him deep inside her, and not just with his fingers.
“I have longed to do that again,” he said quietly, meeting her gaze. “You are incredibly passionate, Virginia.”
His words went straight through her heart. “What about your pleasure?” she asked as quietly, her trepidation growing. But even a real union of their bodies would not be enough.If only he would reach out now and touch her with real affection.
But he did not. He shrugged, standing. “I’ll survive.”
She also stood, refusing to be disappointed, and quickly stepped into her drawers and pantalettes. “You appear ready to mount a cannon,” she managed, and then she gave up. She was disappointed.
“What?” he choked.
She did not understand him at all. She did not understand why he couldn’t become fond of her, why it had to be simply sex, and she would never understand the line he had drawn and what it really meant. “I mean, I am sorry you won’t take your pleasure, too.”
“I heard you the first time,” he said, and he actually smiled at her. “A man loves to have his size appreciated.”
“I am sure you have had more than your share of appreciation.” She faced him. “Devlin, I’m confused.”
His mask reappeared. “Don’t be. It was just…a moment. I should have never stayed here for your fitting.”
“And what? I am sobeautifulthat you lostalmostall control?”
“Frankly, yes.”
She stared, about to berate him for his mockery, when she realized he wasn’t mocking at all. “Are you being serious?” she gasped.
“Yes.” He pursed his lips in indecision, and then said, “Yes, I am being very serious.”
Elation crept over her. She smiled. “But—”
He touched her lips. “Why don’t you accept the flattery and enjoy it?”
She grinned. Inwardly, a song was bursting from her heart, the last bar of which was a dance.He thought her beautiful.All disappointment vanished.
“You know, I think that I will.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
REGENTSTREET HAD CALMEDby the time they left Madame Didier’s shop. It was late in the afternoon and only a few vendors remained; some of the shops had closed, signs in the window pronouncing this fact. A few pedestrians also remained; however, all were gentlemen, when earlier the reverse had been true.
“Is it later than I think?” Virginia asked quietly. Devlin had absented himself for the remainder of the fitting, but only after explaining exactly how he wished Madame to design and trim her gowns.
