He was still holding her gaze and he nodded. “Take it,” he urged. “Let go and use me.”
She shivered at those two words.Use me. What a concept that she could control him, make him dance on her string, take only what she desired without thought of consequences. She rested her hands on his shoulders and rose up a fraction, changing the angle of their joined bodies once more.
“Such a good girl,” he growled.
Her body rolled with pleasure and she barked out a little cry from it. She did it again, again, taking him, increasing the pace, thinking of nothing but the building pressure between her legs. He lifted to meet her, his pupils almost black they were dilated so far from desire.
She came, crushing her mouth to his as her hips thrust out of control and he dug his fingers into them, marking her with his power even as he gave her her own. He groaned against her lips, coming deep within her, the heat of him only stoking the flames of release.
But at last she collapsed on his chest, panting with the exertion of pleasure. It had been different this time. Something had shifted between them, but she couldn’t name it. All she knew was that when his arms came around her she felt…safe. That was a fallacy, but she sank into it regardless, smiling when he gently kissed her temple, her cheek.
His fingers traced patterns along her back and she shivered at that touch. The things this man could do to her. Make her forget. Make her want.
She shifted and he let her go as she rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. The kissing couples painted in relief there were taunting her. None of them looked troubled by thoughts.
“I don’t think we should go downstairs,” he said, rolling on his side.His hand settled on her hip, gentle, warm weight that once again drew all those thoughts away far too easily.
“No?” she asked, forcing herself to look at him. God, he looked so handsome mussed from all those sinful things he did to her. How could he look so perfect when he was imperfect while she felt nothing but pressure when she did the same?
“No. I want to stay here all afternoon. All night.”
“In this bed?” she said with a laugh.
He nodded and wasn’t laughing. He wasn’t teasing. He meant it. “I want to stay in this bed with you, Clarissa, and test how many ways I can make you moan my name.”
“Oh,” she said softly, her body already tingling at the thought. “And what about supper?”
“I already had mine,” he said with a wicked wink.
Her laugh increased at his cheek and she swatted him lightly with her palm. “You cad.”
“When we’re hungry, I’ll call for something to be brought up. We’ll feed each other and drink a little too much wine and then I’ll lay you down on the rug in front of the fire and make you forget your name as you beg me for release.”
She stared at him. The heaven of what he suggested was so tempting, even though she knew that the surrender he was talking about violating at least some of the rules of propriety. But in that moment, she didn’t give a damn.
“What if I want to makeyouforget your name?” she asked, and heat instantly filled her cheeks at the bold question.
He tugged her against him. “Oh, I have so many things to teach you that will make you do that, my lady. So many things.”
She groaned as he kissed her and forget everything else, at least for a little while. She could return to reality soon enough. There was no other choice.
CHAPTER 19
It was four days after her appointment with Miss Swanlea that the seamstress made an appointment for a fitting at Clarissa’s home. She’d been led to the countess’s chamber upon arrival and set up her things, and now Clarissa stepped into the room to do the fitting for the white gown.
She wasn’t as excited about it as she normally felt with a new outfit. But the idea of yet another white gown fell flat now and she forced a smile as she moved toward the seamstress.
“Miss Swanlea,” she said, acknowledging when the woman curtseyed slightly. “I am thrilled to see you and cannot wait to enjoy what you’ve made.”
“I hope you’ll like both items,” Miss Swanlea replied, and then stepped back from the small portable rack where she had carefully hung the gowns and Clarissa’s coat.
Clarissa stared. Yes, there was the white gown in the fabric she had requested, but next to it was another dress. This one in the pretty pink fabric she had examined at the showroom and rejected despite her feelings about it.
“What is that?” she asked, unable to look away. The dress wasgorgeous, with a slightly lower neckline than she normally wore and exquisite finishing touches like the wide ribbon along the bottom hem of the dress and the velvet band around the high waist.
Miss Swanlea smiled. “A surprise from the earl, my lady. He appeared in my shop the day after your measurement session and requested I make another gown for you. He wanted to know any fabric that particularly caught your eye and then chose from the colors you had liked.”
Clarissa moved past her and reached for the gown. Her fingers brushed the soft silk fabric with its fine damask pattern. It was so beautiful, even though it wasn’t the white she felt she had to wear for propriety’s sake.
