He grit his teeth against the unbearable desire to throw her on the bed, slowly remove her simple shift, and touch every inch of her beautiful, delectable body.
To touch her, to taste her.
To run his lips along the smooth flesh of her inner thighs, to run his tongue over each pert nipple, and draw them into his hot, hungry mouth for a tight, wet suckle.
To kiss her supple mouth, grinding each plump lip against his, his tongue eager for entry into the sweet heaven. Once her lips were kiss swollen, he’d direct his attention to lips just as plump and hungry for his kiss, but much wetter, and much hotter.
He nearly came in his trousers thinking of it.
What would happen if she allowed him to do all he’d dreamed?
Ever since she’d danced for him in his dreams, every movement, breath, and sigh brought him back to that night. That dream. His fantasy. Would they even compare to the real pleasures she could provide?
Her voice, soft and husky, broke through his lust-induced haze.
“You came into my room to tell me you don’t hate me? Couldn’t you have waited until morning when I’m dressed?”
Her voice broke and her body quivered, responding to his touch.
He smiled a slow, wicked smile.
Although she couldn’t see him in the dark of her room, she must have felt the change in him, his shift from intruder to seducer.
“If I had waited until morning, I wouldn’t have found you thus—standing under the moonlight, tantalizingly naked beneath a transparent night dress, and apparently quite greedy for my touch.”
She trembled.
He couldn’t help it, he thrust forward, his erection pressing into the small of her back.
He slid his lips against the base of her neck, nibbling the delicious, heated skin there.
God, she tasted like sweet, salty desire.
He would forever hunger for her.
She groaned, and his eyes rolled back into his head at the pure bliss of her pleasure. If a kiss on her neck made her groan with such passion, what would a kiss on her breasts sound like? A kiss on her rib cage? A kiss on her clit?
“You make it-it sound like I wa...was...waiting fo...for you.”
His smile widened at her stuttered response. He didn’t know how much longer he could wait to touch and taste as he wanted.
“Weren’t you?” His lust heavy growl raised tiny bumps along her skin.
He groaned into her ear.
He wanted her to hear his torment.
She shook her head.
“Oh, I do believe youwerewaiting for me. You see, ever since your arrival, you’ve challenged me, made me burn witheach heated look, each hot word, and each and every fiery touch. You’ve scorched me, Haven. Now I’m going to stroke the blaze inside you into a conflagration so hot it will level the manor.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Haven blinked as his words settled into the fiery hot, soaking wet hollow at her core.
Holy shit, is he for real?
Shouldn’t I kick him out, act upset, or scream or something? Isn’t that what nineteenth-century ladies do?
