Heat flared in his eyes, a fresh hunger. She’d seen that look before, and it sparked an answering hunger inside her. This time, when he leaned forward to kiss her, she met his lips halfway.
“And your heart,” he breathed, moving back just enough to get the words out. “Do you want it back?”
She let her fingernails scrape ever so gently over the nape of his neck, ruffling the short, soft hairs there. His pupils blew wide at that, and she tracked the movement of his throat as he swallowed.
“That depends. Do you intend to take good care of it?”
“The best,” he whispered.
Their lips crashed together once more. Heat rushed through Amelia, coiling in her gut and pulsing between her legs. The cold outside was forgotten, as was her mad dash through the trees.
It’s over. I’m safe. My sisters are safe. It’s over.
She gripped Stephen’s lapels, pulling him harder against her. When she tugged at his jacket, he seemed to understand what she wanted and pulled back just enough to tear it off. She was sure she heard a button pop. The cravat came next, the pin clinking into the shadowy corners of the room. With one smooth motion, he tugged the linen shirt over his head.
Candlelight played over the ridges of his chest, every bit as impressive as when she’d seen it in the bath.
Perhaps he was thinking of that event when he grinned, pulling her back against him. Fingers tugged at the buttons on her bodice. She felt the topmost button loosen, then the next, then the next, until her bodice sagged and the neckline loosened.
Stephen leaned forward and kissed her once more, a soft, gentle thing that did not seem to match the stark coldness of their surroundings. Closing her eyes, Amelia tipped her head back.
His lips trailed down her neck, lingering on the hollow at the base of her throat. With a gentle tug, the loose neckline of her gown slipped down over her shoulders.
Goosebumps broke out over her skin. He chased the pebbled flesh with his fingertips, warm and soothing. Down he went, his lips drifting over the swell of her breasts. When he tugged her bodice down further still, baring her breasts entirely, Amelia sucked in a breath, her eyes widening. It felt so wrong to be bare like that in the open, yet so wickedly thrilling.
His fingertips ghosted over bare flesh, and his lips followed. He kissed the swell of her breasts again, drifting lower. His tongue darted over her nipple, and her knees threatened to buckle.
Then he pulled back, and she nearly staggered, shocked at the loss of warmth and support.
“Just a moment,” Stephen whispered, his voice thick, sounding almost choked.
He strode over to the padded benches, moving quickly and efficiently, in an obvious hurry. He tore off the long cushions, tossing them onto the ground to form a neat little pile. Then he turned back to Amelia, extending a hand.
She came to him almost without thinking, taking his hand. Stephen’s gaze raked over her, his eyes darkening with want. He clicked his tongue at the goosebumps on her skin, then snatched up the half-forgotten blanket and draped it over her shoulders again.
The world shifted around her, and Amelia found herself lying on her back, the cushions barely softening the hardness of the floor.
Stephen moved over her, supporting his weight on his knees and elbows. That disappointed her somehow. Did she want his weight on her, pushing her down? Perhaps.
Think about it later.
He kissed her again, more impatient than before. His thigh, still encased in deerskin breeches, brushed against hers.
Suddenly eager to feel his skin on hers, Amelia tugged at her skirt, pulling it up past her knees. Stephen chuckled against her lips, and she felt the sound reverberate through her body.
“Impatient, I see,” he murmured.
She wound her arms around his neck, pulling him down toward her. “I would not haveto be impatient if you did not take so long.”
He laughed at that, and she found herself smiling.
The expression felt strange on her face. Was she really smiling, giddy, and hot with desire, so shortly after that business with Harry?
Her mind went blank as Stephen reached down, his warm fingertips dancing along her thigh.
No matter how many times he does that, I’ll never get used to the feeling.
Those clever fingers slid into her core, just like before, and she closed her eyes, letting the sensation unfold and sweep through her. He moved quickly, efficiently, with practiced strokes, bringing her so close to her peak in what felt like a handful of seconds.
