Her soft, warm palm landed on his neck, and Finn opened his eyes and raised his head to find her nibbling on her plump lower lip.
A defeated groan fell from his lips. He intended to marry her, and soon. She was curious and eager, she’d read enough about a man’s body and lovemaking not to be shocked when certain things, ah…sprang up, and damn it, he wasn’t a saint. He wanted her, and he could see by her flushed cheeks and breathlessness she wanted him, too.
He let his hands drift down her back, his fingertips stroking her spine before his palms came to rest on her waist. “What about a lady’s pleasure? Don’t your books say anything about that?”
Her eyebrows pinched together. “Now you ask it, her pleasure does seem to be rather incidental to the gentleman’s. That is, she has pleasure—after the initial pain—but the point of the business seems to be more his pleasure than hers.”
“And therein lies the cause of frustration of ladies all across England,” Finn muttered, with a disgusted shake of his head. “Ignorance—or worse, laziness—on the gentleman’s part.”
“I don’t understand.”
Finn leaned forward to kiss the tiny frown between her eyebrows. “Did you feel any pleasure when you read the books, Iris?”
Her wide-eyed gaze met his. “I—yes.”
His mouth went dry as he watched the color rise from her chest to her throat until it bathed her cheeks in a tempting wash of bright pink. “Where did you feel it? Show me.”
She stared at him, her lips parted, but he saw the uncertainty at war with her desire before her heavy lashes swept down and hid her eyes from him.
Too much, too fast.
Finn shed his coat and tossed it onto one end of the sofa, loosened the buttons on his waistcoat, and then held out his arms to her. “Come here, sweet.” His hands were firm on her waist as he lifted her onto his lap. He turned so his back was against the side of the sofa and arranged her legs on either side of his thighs, with her skirts covering her. “My pleasure is tied to yours, as surely as yours is to mine. Will you let me show you?”
“Yes.” No hesitation.
He trailed a single finger down her cheek and across her bottom lip in a slow caress, then dipped lower to trace her neck before coming to rest at the pulse fluttering at the base of her throat. “You like my touch.” He stroked her soft skin, his breath catching at the wild throbbing under his fingertip. “I can feel how much, right here.”
She was still dressed in the riding habit she’d been wearing this morning, but she’d removed the jacket and hat. Finn’s heated gaze traced the curves visible under her thin muslin shirt, pausing on the cravat at her neck, and the bow tied in a simple knot under her breasts.
A faint gasp left her lips when he tugged on the end of first one bow, then the other, loosening them both. Finn hesitated, his gaze darting back to her face. She was watching him with dark, feverish blue eyes, her shallow breaths hard and quick between her parted lips.
“Untie it,” she whispered.
His hands shook as he loosened the knots, slid the cravat free, and then grasped the hem of her shirt and raised it over her head. She wore only a corset underneath, and his heart nearly leapt from his chest when her bare skin met his hungry gaze.
“So pale and fine.” He dragged his fingertips across her delicate collarbones and down her chest, greedy for the feel of her silky skin. When he reached the edge of her corset he paused, but she didn’t stop him, and he moved lower and cupped her breasts in his palms. His cock surged against his falls at the breathy whimper that tore from her throat as he dragged his thumbs over the straining peaks of her nipples.
“Unlace me.” She took his hands and brought his fingers to the top lace of her corset.
Finn’s eyes dropped closed as he struggled to remind himself he was an honorable gentleman, but the pretty pink flush on her skin, her whimpers and sighs and the pleading note in her voice—it was all too much. He fumbled with the laces of her corset, his fingers desperate and clumsy, but she helped him, and within seconds the corset was hanging loose, and he caught a maddening glimpse of the smooth skin between her breasts, and before he could think at all or reason with his cock, he’d dragged the corset away and tossed it aside because he couldn’t wait another second to see her, and…
Ah, God. She was perfect.
Pale, flawless skin, her nipples the same blush pink as her lips, and they were hard for him, pouting for his touch. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from her. “Oh, Iris. You’re so beautiful, sweetheart.”
She made a soft noise when he trailed a finger between her breasts, as if she’d waited forever for him to touch her, and the sound broke him. Any illusions he’d had that he could send her back to her bed alone vanished with that one breathless sigh.
“Did you ache here when you read your books?” He circled his thumbs around her nipples, his gaze locked on her flushed face as he stroked her.
“Yes.” She grabbed his shoulders to steady herself as his relentless caresses made her squirm in his lap.
Dear God, he was going to come just from watching her. “Did these pretty peaks get hard, sweet?”
“Yes.” She looked down at where he caressed her, staring at his fingers as they toyed with her nipples, which had turned a deep pink from his attentions.
“Did you touch them? Did you stroke them, as I’m doing now?” Finn trailed soft, open-mouthed kisses over her throat, and felt it move in a nervous swallow under his lips. “Tell me.”
“I—” she began, but her voice trailed off, and when Finn raised his head from her throat, her cheeks were scarlet.
