Not now.
In the room’s center, Georgina seemed to hesitate, as if uncertain where she ought to lead him.
He had that worked out.
“Over here, if you please,” he murmured, his voice low, as he made his way to the basin and pitcher, which he’d requested be filled with warm water and her signature rose oil.
“All right.”
He picked up the pitcher and poured its contents into the painted basin.
“Oh,” she said, eyes widening as if uncertain what he intended, though she joined him before the vanity, nonetheless.
“Turn around, if you please,” he instructed, his voice husky even to his own ears.
She obeyed, and the sound of her shuddering, indrawn breath sent a shaft of molten heat through him. His cock, already rigid, pulsed.
Swallowing hard over a throat gone suddenly dry, he reached for the tiny pearl buttons that fastened her silk gown running along the center of her back. One by one, he undid them. Little by little, the folds of her gown parted. Second by second, tremors coursed through her, transmitting to his fingers.
He brushed a capped sleeve off one shoulder, then the next, and, with a whisper of fabric, her gown pooled at her feet.
Hands shaking with the need to touch her, everywhere, he grasped one of the linen towels laid out beside the basin, soaking and ringing it out in the fragrant water.
Then he ran the dampened towel over her nape, and bared upper back, finally reaching around her to gently swab her exposed bodice. In doing so, he pulled her body ever so slightly into his, and nearly groaned. Unable to resist the urge he bent his head and nibbled the delicate place under her jaw, working his way to her tender earlobe, which he nuzzled, then nipped.
At her soft gasp, he did groan. God, how he wanted this woman. Wanted to sink his hard shaft into her heat. But not yet. He hadn’t gone through the torture of constant unfulfilled desire to rush things at this juncture. He would force himself to wait—and bring her to the place of desperate yearning where he lived of late—even if it killed him.
He set the towel aside and with two flicks of his wrist, loosed the petticoat she wore and sent it tumbling to the floor. Then he started on her stays.
The dry mouth he suffered suddenly began to water as he imagined what he wanted to taste first once he had her naked. He unlaced the tight corset with painstaking patience, his fingertips sliding over the terribly soft, pristine skin of her upper back as the stays parted to reveal the thin chemise beneath. Soon the rigid stays joined the other discards.
Only the ultra-thin chemise, her stockings, and slippers remained.
He grasped the skirts and shimmied the fabric upward. “Raise your arms,” he choked drinking in the sight of her.
With another shuddering breath, she obliged.
God, the shape of her. A tiny waist his hands could surely span, gently rounded hips and, blood of the saints, a high, round, bottom that had his cock straining against the packet in his pantaloons.
Once again, hands shaking with violent need, he picked up the linen towel and soaked it, only this time, rather than wringing the rose scented water out, he allowed droplets to sluice over her body.
A shudder of passion rolled through her, and her head lolled back to rest against his chest. Good. He needed her as desperate for him as he was for her.
And he was desperate.
He drew the towel down her back, then bent his head to her ear. “Does that feel good, sweetheart?”
She nodded rapidly, panting, and coaxed a wicked chuckle from him.
He pressed a lingering kiss to her nape and plucked hair pins at random, to free her restrained curls. When he had removed them all, he fanned out the silky ringlets, marveling at the thick, springy strands that spilled over her shoulders and down her back and smelled of roses.
“Now, step away from those clothes at your feet and out of your slippers, and face me.”
For the first time, she hesitated, glancing down at herself before drawing her hands up to cover herself.
Oh, no. He’d waited too long for anything as silly as that. He wetted the towel and, heedless of the dripping water, circled her to stand before her.
His lungs seized. With effort, he resumed breathing, albeit choppily.
