She’d never felt more like a helpless little bunny in her life. Or more exposed. She wanted to lift her hands to cover herself, but fought the desire. He already thought her naïve, she didn’t want to make that worse. What if he bored of it and walked away? Now that she was here, she didn’t want that. She wanted whatever he would do. She wanted it so much that her legs clenched, her hands trembled, the low ache between her thighs felt like fire in her bloodstream.
“You are stunning,” he whispered. “My God.”
Whatever heat that had rushed to her cheeks when her body was revealed increased now with the soft sincerity of that compliment. She was humiliated that her eyes filled with tears at it, that she yearned for that praise as much as she longed for his heated touch.
His expression softened even as she blinked to try to keep the tears at bay. He said nothing about them, only moved closer and pushed the gown down her hips as he kissed her once more.
She wound her arms up around his neck, rising up to his mouth with a gasp as her breasts rubbed against the front of his jacket. His hands dipped down, cupping her backside, squeezing it as he ground against her and she felt the evidence of his desire hard against her stomach.
When they broke apart this time, his gaze was more wild, his breath shorter. He pointed to the bed. “Lie down.”
She nodded and lay back on the impossibly soft bedclothes. He stared at her a moment, then blinked and backed away to begin unfastening his cravat. He shed his clothing swiftly, efficiently, and it was clear that this was something he did a great deal. He never stopped looking at her even as he tugged his shirt over his head.
And she couldn’t have stopped looking at him even if she were offered all the gold in England. She sat up, staring at the expanse of lean muscle of his chest and stomach, peppered with chest hair that led in a fascinating trail down into the waist of his trousers. The trousers he was unbuttoning and pushing aside with the rest.
“Oh,” she whispered as his cock bounced free, hard and ready and impressive. Not that she had a lot to compare it to, but he definitely won the battle.
“Your eyes are very wide,” he whispered as he pressed his hands on the bottom of the bed and began to make his way to her. “I cannot wait to see what they do when I make you come.”
He touched her bare calves, his lean fingers gliding there. She arched as heat sizzled in the wake of his hands. Had she ever felt such a way? Or had Thomas even ever touched her like that, had his hands ever trailed up her knees and made her shake? She didn’t recall. She hardly recalled her own name as this man’s fingers pressed into her thighs, pushed to make her widen her legs.
She did and watched as he looked at her. He licked his lips and she expected him to press inside of her immediately. But he didn’t. Instead he trailed his hands up her hips and finally cupped her breasts in each palm, stoking gently, rhythmically and setting her on fire.
His head lowered, not to her lips but to one hard nipple, and he swirled his tongue in a languid circle around and around. She arched with a cry, her hands coming down into those thick locks of hair and he chuckled against her skin.
“And here we’ve barely begun,” he murmured, his gaze coming up to hers even though he didn’t lift his head.
She twisted beneath him as he shifted to her opposite breast, lavishing her with the same attention there as he had before. By the time he began to trail his hot mouth down to her stomach with his lips, she was shaking. She’d never before felt something like this, this fire in her blood that made her so aware of every part of her body. Most especially the parts he licked and nipped as he brushed his bearded cheek against her hip, her thigh, and finally he pressed his hand between her legs.
She should have felt embarrassed to be so intimately caressed by a stranger. She should have been trying to escape his gaze on her most private of parts. Instead she lifted toward him, wantonly giving over what he so brazenly claimed and wishing she knew how to ask for whatever would come next.
He didn’t make her wait long. He massaged the outer lips of her sex with his fingers, then he parted her and she felt the brush of his tongue between her legs. She jolted against the electric sensation, rising to meet him in this new, wonderful explosion of heat and pleasure.
He made a low growl from deep his chest, an animal, claiming sound. One hand settled more firmly on her hip, holding her in place as he began to lick her in earnest. She rocked against him, the sensation building rapidly now, unlike anything she’d ever known or felt, not with her husband, not with her own furtive hand in the dark.
This was something far more magical and the waves of it built powerfully and swiftly until at last she felt the edge of the pleasure right there. He sucked her clitoris and she fell, gasping and crying out as wave after unstoppable wave wracked her.
He moaned against her skin, vibrations from the sound only increasing the pleasure that seemed to ricochet out of control through every part of her body. If the man had told her she glowed, if she had levitated off the bed, she wouldn’t have been surprised.
At last, the sensations eased a fraction, their sharp edges smoothing even as little earthquakes continued through her body. Only then did he lift his head, rise up over her once again and claim her mouth with the same fervor with which he had claimed her sex. She tasted her own pleasure on his lips and gasped at that erotic knowledge, digging her nails into his shoulders as he wedged his hips between hers.
She felt the head of him at her entrance, braced for pain or discomfort as he took her, but he slid home in her body without any resistance. Just one smooth thrust and there was only pleasure. There was only heat. There was only him and them and this.
She lifted beneath him as he moaned again into her neck as if she moved him as much as he moved her. How could that be possible? She forgot the question as he drove hard into her body, taking with sure, steady strokes. She met him without hesitation, driving him to release, driving herself back to the same edge. And when she found it again she couldn’t stop herself from gripping her legs around his hips, from moaning and crying out without a care for who could hear the echo in the hallway.
He joined her with a roar and then withdrew, spending into his hand and across her stomach in thick ropes of release. He collapsed down over her, pressing kisses to her neck, her collarbone and finally her lips. The kiss gentled at last and they broke apart.
She was shaking with all that had happened. With the pleasure, yes, but also the knowledge that she had surrendered herself so fully to man whose real name she didn’t even know. And now that same man rolled to his side and cradled her against his broad chest, smoothing a hand against her neck with such gentleness that she almost believed she could stay this way forever.
She had to recall she couldn’t. Except as she snuggled into his arms, reveling in the feeling of being held as much as she had in being taken, she pushed away that thought. She could extract herself later. For now, she would just enjoy this moment.
* * *
In all the times George had come to the Donville Masquerade and bedded a lover, he’d never lain in that lover’s arms afterward. This wasn’t the place for romantic notions, for sweetness. He took, he thanked, he left.
Only as he held this woman in his arms, he felt no drive to flee the chamber. He only wanted to revel in the aftermath of what might have been the most powerful encounter he’d ever experienced.
“I never knew it could be like that,” she said softly.
