Her breath hitched as he planted gentle kisses on her neck.
“You are here for many reasons, Duchess,” he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. “Translating Pamela is only one of them.”
“Oh?” She laughed, breathless as his hand traveled the length of her body. “Raph, I’m worried that Pamela?—”
“Pamela is currently sulking magnificently because I refused to let her stay up until dawn. We have the rest of the night to ourselves.”
He dipped his head and trailed kisses along her jaw while his fingers found the tiny pearl buttons at the back of her gown.
Camelia laughed against his throat. “And what do you have planned for us tonight,Your Grace?”
“You’ll see.”
Raph lifted her as though she weighed nothing while his hands slipped beneath the layers of silk and petticoats. Camelia gasped when his warm palms glided up the back of her thighs.
Her breath caught as he carried her the few steps to the wide velvet settee beside the tall windows that overlooked the gardens.
He set her down only long enough to strip her bare. Gown, corset, chemise, stockings—each garment fell away with whispered laughter and the soft rustle of expensive fabric.
“I’ve been waiting all day to do this to you,” he whispered.
“I’m ready for you, Your Grace,” she purred.
When the last scrap of lace fell to the carpet, Camelia stood naked in the flickering light, her skin prickling under the heat of his gaze.
Raph’s eyes darkened, roaming over her as though memorizing every curve and dip.
He reached for the pale-pink satin ribbon in her hair, tugging it free so the heavy mass spilled down her back. His fingers lingered on the nape of her neck.
“Turn around,” he ordered.
Camelia obeyed, her heart hammering against her ribs.
He pushed her down until she was bent over the rolled arm of the settee. The velvet was cool against her breasts and belly. Behind her, Raph gathered her wrists gently but firmly, crossing them at the small of her back. She felt the ribbon whisper over her skin as he bound her.
“Is it all right, my Duchess?”
“Yes,” she breathed.
A shiver raced through her at the restraint and the way it arched her back, offering her to him completely.
Raph leaned over her, chest to her spine, lips brushing the shell of her ear. “Tell me if it’s too much.”
She shook her head, breathless. “I need more.”
A dark, approving sound rumbled in his chest. Then, his mouth was on her neck and shoulders, tracing a slow, burning path down the line of her spine while one large hand slid between her thighs.
Raph never rushed with her. He knew when she was already aching and ready for him.
She moaned when his fingers parted her and stroked her in lazy circles that made her knees buckle. She whimpered, pushing back against his hand, and he gave her another slow, deliberate glide that left her slick and trembling.
“Raph, please…”
“Please what, love?” His voice was velvet sin against her skin.
“Please, fill me now.”
She felt the heat of him as he stepped closer. His hot member nudged her entrance, sliding through her wet folds but not entering her.
