“What are you doing?” Though she tried to sound authoritative, her words came out in a breathy release.
He lifted his head to whisper in her ear. “I’m touching you.”
“Oh.”
When she didn’t continue, he resumed by kissing the outside of her ear, then below it toward the violet scent emanating from her. He couldn’t resist kissing her neck where a satin ribbon, the color of her dress, encircled her throat. He followed it to the back of her nape where wisps of her soft hair tickled his nose.
Her head lowered as if she wished for more, but he wanted to be sure. Once again, he whispered in her ear. “Do you like my touch?”
“I do.”
The words were almost too soft to hear, but they were clear. Kissing the nape of her neck yet again, he moved his hand over the bow tied at the top of her dress, and pulled one end.
Her intake of breath was the only reaction, so he fingered the remaining knot, leaving the ribbons hanging and her bare skin visible. Desire shot through him at the unusual occurrence. Where were her stays and shift?
He stroked one hand down her back, pushing aside the material. As the dress fell away, he let his kisses follow. The softness of her skin and the warmth of her body were far too enticing to stop. When he reached her narrow waist, he could no longer resist, and pulled his shirt over his head once again. He straightened and wrapped one arm around her waist, pulling her back tight against his chest.
She melted into him, and her head fell back against his cheek.
He breathed deeply into her hair. On his exhale, he spoke. “You’re perfect.”
Her body stiffened. “Far from perfect, you mean.”
Nuzzling her neck, he wholeheartedly disagreed, but arguing with her about something so obvious wasn’t what he wished to do at the moment. “I want to touch you everywhere.”
Above his arm, he felt her heart beating quickly. Her own excitement fueled his forwardness. “Would you like that?”
“I don’t know.”
Her honesty helped him remember she was yet untouched. “Why do you not wear a shift beneath your dress?” It was quite scandalous and not something he’d thought she’d do, though he was pleased at the outcome.
Her right shoulder came up. “I spilled watercolor on my last clean one and had my maid wash it. I was not planning to see anyone today.”
He smiled. “Then I am twice as glad I was able to sneak away.” Still holding her close, he used his free hand to lower her sleeve, causing her front neckline to hang loosely from her. From his view over her shoulder, her pert breast was clearly visible, though in the shadow of the dress.
He moved his hand from her arm to her collarbone, tracing it with his fingers.
She turned her head and her lips found his own neck, causing a shiver to race through him. “You smell of leather and pine.”
She was too observant by half. “And you smell of violets and your skin is softer than rose petals.” He let his hand lower as he spoke until he cupped her fine breast. It filled his palm perfectly.
Her hand came up over her dress, imprisoning his beneath it. “You shouldn’t.”
She was right, he shouldn’t. “I know. But I want to feel you more than I want to breathe.”
She tilted her head to catch his gaze. “And will you hold your breath until you can?” The teasing light in her eyes made it clear she thought he exaggerated. Little did she understand her allure to him.
“I will, if I need to.” He didn’t mask the need in his gaze, letting her see exactly how much he wanted her.
Her smile faltered. “Far be it for me to withhold life-sustaining air from you.” That she still managed a coherent thought meant he had not stoked her desire enough yet. Something he needed to remedy.
She dropped her hand to the side, giving him free access to her.
If she couldn’t feel his heart pounding against her back before, she had to now, for he was finding her capitulation far more intoxicating than he’d expected. Free now to move his hand, he brushed his finger over her bare nipple.
“Oh, my.”
Her whispered exclamation was all he needed to continue his quest. Once again, he brushed her nipple with his thumb, its taught peak hard and round. Unable to resist, he rolled it between his thumb and forefinger.
