He jolted at that unexpected thought. Then shoved it away as he pushed the opposite arm of her gown down and bared her, at last, from the waist up.
She had small breasts with dusky pink areolas and hard nipples just begging to be sucked. He covered each one with his hands and felt her lift beneath him, arching to get more, demand more.
Oh, he was going to give that to her. Carefully. Gently.
“I want to take the rest off,” he whispered.
Her eyes opened, and once again she looked at him with the same confusion as the first time he had asked for her consent. His heart hurt at the expression. Clearly her wants had never been on the top of any man’s mind.
She nodded. “Yes. Please.”
Thepleasewas needy, plaintive. Wanton. And he liked that sound so very much. He liked making her long for what would come. Needed it like breath. That was his job tonight, after all. To make her anticipate and then quake with release. One thing he knew—he was very good at doingthat.
He stood, drawing her to her feet in one smooth motion. She steadied herself by placing a hand on his chest, and he felt the burn of her skin against his. God, but when she touched him. He wanted to feel it all over.
He pushed that desire aside. Holding her gaze, he hooked his thumbs into the folded fabric of her tangled gown and pushed, drawing the entire contraption down around her feet. She stood naked before him now, save for her drawers and stockings and slippers.
He stared. She was a goddess. Meant to be worshipped exactly as he intended to worship her. Meant to be surrendered to and offered whatever she desired.
What she desired was pleasure, release, orgasm. That was easy.
“Did he ever tell you how beautiful you were?” he asked.
The flicker of pain over her face was enough to give him the answer even before she choked, “He liked my looks until I belonged to him. Then he would accuse me of using them to tempt others.”
“You are beautiful, Katherine,” he whispered as he smoothed his hands along her naked sides and up over the flimsy fabric encasing her round hips. “The kind of woman men used to go to war for.”
She swallowed hard and he thought he saw tears in her eyes before she turned her face away. He pressed his mouth to her flesh as he dropped to his knees. Now his face was even with her stomach, and he sucked and licked there as he untied the little ribbon at the waist of her drawers. He lifted his gaze. “Yes?”
“Y-Yes.”
He tugged, gliding the drawers down to join at the pile of fabric at her feet. He let his mouth trace the line of one hip, then across her thigh. As he brought his face across the apex of her thighs, he breathed in that cinnamon scent that so enraptured him. She made a little moan above him and it was like music to his ears.
He cupped her bare backside, kneading his fingers into the soft flesh. Pulling her against his mouth and steaming warm breath over that most sensitive place. Her fingers came into his hair again and she let out cry of pleasure as she massaged his scalp.
He smiled against her, darting his tongue out to just tease her mound. She buckled and he shifted so he could place her into a seated position on the settee. Her eyes were glazed as she stared at him, wedged between her legs. The legs she’d had to open when she sat.
Revealing that pretty pink sex just as she had the night before. He reached out to trace her lips with his index finger, and she shuddered and lifted toward him.
He shook his head at her silent demand. “First, your stockings.”
Her eyes were wild as she stared at him. Watching as he rolled the flimsy silk away and then gently removed her slippers. He tossed first one then the other over his shoulder, and she was naked. Completely naked, splayed out on the settee before him like an offering.
He wanted to do so many things to this woman. Lock them both into this chamber, heedless of every other guest, and spend a week exploring every inch of her. Take her in every way, learn what made her gasp. Teach her even more. Let her learn his body.
A week? He wanted a month. A year. A decade. But he had tonight. And that would be enough. It had to be.
“Before you ask,” she gasped, lifting herself toward him. “Yes. The answer is yes. Yes, yes, yes.”
He smiled at her desperation. The need that laced every word from her lips. He had no intention of denying her. “If the answer changes to no, say the word,” he whispered.
She murmured some incoherent noise and he laughed as he pushed up on his knees and cupped her breasts. He had so wanted her naked last night, so he could touch and tease and pleasure. Now he had her that way. And in his chamber, where no one would interrupt. No one was waiting for them, watching for their return in the ballroom. This was all there was.
He massaged her breasts, squeezing them, letting his thumbs graze her nipples as he watched her reaction. She bit her lower lip, muffling a moan, and her head tilted back. He smiled, marking the sensitivity to his mind as he lowered his mouth to one nipple. He licked her, letting the flat of his tongue smooth over the peak gently.
“Yes!” she cried out, fisting her hands against the settee cushion.
He licked again, this time harder as he continued to squeeze and pluck the opposite breast. She was lifting her hips now, grinding her lower body against his still-clothed one as he began to suck. Harder and harder, letting her nipple slide free with a pop every now and again.
