His hands came up with her chemisette, baring her to his hungry gaze. He tossed the silk to the wayside and fell to his knees.
“Brandon?” Her voice didn’t sound like her own.
He answered by setting his lips on her abdomen. It fluttered violently. His hands spanned her lower back and hips. “You smell of desire.”
She wasn’t so sure what desire smelled like, only that she was damp between her legs. He used his tongue to blaze a trail to the crease of her pelvis and the top of one thigh. Her hands gripped the back of his head, intending to push him away, yet they held him to her. He moved to the other side, and she whimpered. Her legs shook.
His tongue moved lower and touched the top of her sex. Her legs buckled, but he held her in a tight grasp. “This will not do at all,” he said. He licked her. Once. He moved back and raised his head. “You’re mine,” he said. “Don’t ever forget that.”
As if she could after this.
“Hold on to my shoulders.”
She did as he asked.
He slipped her stockings free and rolled one down, then the other.
Her flesh throbbed where his tongue had touched.
He lifted her foot and stripped her stocking away but didn’t set her foot down right away. He leaned in and licked her sex until she gasped and found her hands on the back of his head again. “This can’t be normal,” she stuttered out in a shocked whisper.
He raised his eyes, his lips curved into a sly grin. “No?” He rose to his feet, keeping her steady.
Her other stocking fell away when he lifted her and carried her to the bed. Her bare body felt strange against the wool of his coat. He still wore his cravat, though it was no longer starch-stiff. He set her on the edge of the bed, but when he went to move, she stopped him with her hand on a loosed edge of his cravat. “If I attempt to dislodge this, will I choke you to death, I wonder?”
“That is a distinct possibility,” he said in a low, gravelly, thoroughly enticing growl.
Her fingers moved to his waistcoat. “Then you deal with that. I think I can handle this.”
They worked in tandem, his tie falling away the same moment his waistcoat parted. He tore off both and whipped his shirt over his head. She’d seen his chest once before—the day she’d burst into his chamber during his bath—but hadn’t felt the privilege to look so openly. Even now, the differences were stark in how he’d filled out. She licked her lips.
He kicked off his shoes and stripped out of his pantaloons and stockings, his erection standing proud. His hand landed on her shoulder, and he gently pushed her to her back. He lifted her feet to the bed with her knees bent and finished what he’d started moments ago—his mouth on her sex. Her hips jerked upward, embedding his tongue deeply within her.
She exploded in a burst of sensation.
He kept his mouth in place, riding out the wave. Seconds later, he placed his knees between her legs and crawled up her body. “I can wait no longer, my love.” He seated himself deep within her. It was a snug fit, but there was no pain, just pure need rebuilding within her.
Maeve locked her feet behind him and clenched him within her. She clutched at his shoulders, which were now damp.
His mouth found hers, his tongue chasing and catching her own. He suckled it, moving in her. He started slow, but seconds later, his mouth pulled from hers, and he was gasping for breath.
Maeve couldn’t think about that, though, because he brought his thumb up and pressed at the top of her sex, and she flew into another million pieces, gasping herself.
Harlowe let out a harsh growl. The tendons in his neck were so taut they looked on the verge of breaking. His shaft throbbed within her sensitized flesh as he fell on top of her.
A burst of song that felt completely unnatural unfurled in her chest. But she couldn’t seem to keep her cheeks from pinching at a grin filling her from the inside out.
Slowly, he lifted away. “Are you all right? Did I hurt you?”
“N-no.” Her voice came out breathless and smiling.
He looked into her eyes, and she stared back, unable to do anything else. “Thank you for marrying me, Maeve Radcliff, Lady Harlowe.”
Thirty-Three
G
uilt warred with the thrill of having Nathaniel with Maeve. She’d missed him horribly. He was an adorable, sweet natured child, and Penny and Mary loved having him about. Having Nathan underfoot certainly helped in keeping Penny from fretting so much over her missing sister.
