Did she know what she was doing to him? He’d thought he’d be the teacher. Instead, she was the one doing the schooling. If this was what reading poetry could do to a woman, well, every man should buy his wife a book. Perhaps even ten.
He ran his hand down over her hip, exploring, testing. Her legs were well-formed and shapely. Her hip had the sweetest curve that rolled into a perfect waist.
This was his wife.
And he was past ready to see all of her.
He eased onto his back carrying her with him. Roses, diamond pins, and golden hair fell around them. Her breasts rested against his chest. Sweet, sweet Cass. She smelled of violets and woman, a scent that had teased him all afternoon. He began unlacing the back of her gown.
Their kiss broke. “What are you doing?” she asked. Her lips were already swollen with the force of his desire. Her eyes seemed to be deep pools of blue, like the sea under a turbulent sky.
“Undressing you.”
“That is what I hoped,” she answered. She went back to kissing.
She had to know how aroused he was. She moved as if aware of his erection. He took her leg and gently brought it to his hip so that he could fit against her better. The movement lifted her skirts even higher. He coaxed her sleeves down over her shoulders, but he was having difficulty. The truth was, her kisses and his hardness were making it challenging for him to think.
She sensed the problem. “Here, let me help.” She slid off him so that she could stand by the bed. First, she removed the famed strand of pearls and set them on the bedside table. Then, grabbing her skirts, she pulled her dress up over her head.
A low growl of satisfaction caught in his throat. She wore a lawn chemise that barely covered full, round breasts, and a petticoat of the same sheer fabric. The shadow of her legs in silk stockings was the stuff of men’s dreams.
“Am I too bold?” she asked. She held her dress in front of her, bringing to his attention the fact that he stared. No, he did more than stare. He was bloody drooling. “Aren’t we both supposed to be naked for this?”
Soren scrambled out of the bed. “Yes,yes,” he agreed. He began pulling on his neck cloth. His fingers had stopped working properly or the knot had been too tight. He yanked it hard.
Of course, the real problem was that she had folded and set aside her dress on a chair and was now untying her petticoats. He could barely think coherently as he watched her slip the ribbons free.
She noticed his lack of movement. “Is something the matter?”
“No, nothing,” he assured her. He still hadn’t undone the knot. “Carry on.”
“Oh, no.” She held her petticoats in place. “You need to do your share.”
“I do,” he agreed, fiddling again with the knot, but then he noticed the creamy expanses of breasts against her chemise. Damn it all.
He’d never manage to undress.
“Let me help.” She pushed his fumbling hands aside.
Her hair smelled like flowers warmed by the sun. Her body heat teased him as she tried to undo the mess he’d made of his knot.
He put his arm around her waist. His hand rested on her hip. She felt good in his arms. Her petticoat ribbons were loose. He could easily free her of the garment.
“You did yourself no favors,” she said, working on the damage.
His response was to kiss her hair, her forehead. She put her mouth up for him to kiss, and so he did. She surprised him with her openness, her playfulness.
She won the knot and pulled his neck cloth from around his neck. Pressing her body against his intimately, she whispered, “This is it, isn’t it?” She pushed his jacket down over his shoulders.
“Yes, it is,” he assured her. He pulled his shirt over his head and then picked her up again and set her on the bed. Her loosened petticoat fell to the ground. Her lower half was naked save for her stockings. She pressed her legs together in modesty. Her breasts pushed against the chemise.
It was all he could do to unbutton his too full breeches, especially with her intently watching his every movement.
He kicked off one shoe and then another. He took his time lowering his breeches and enjoyed the way her eyes widened.
Oh yes, this would be fun.
Cassandra scooted back on the bed and pulled her chemise over her head. Her skin seemed to glow in the room’s late afternoon light. Her breasts were full and perfectly formed. Her waist and hips were a study in grace.
