So she did the only thing she could think of. She pressed her lips against the center of his chest, and spoke right into his heart. “I’m yours, Lachlan. How could I not be, when you’ve the fiercest, most loving heart I’ve ever known? You’re a good man, Lachlan—the best of men, and my heart has chosen you.”
He didn’t answer, or speak at all, but just when Hyacinth was on the verge of despair, he drew in a long, shuddering breath. His fingers went slack around her wrists, and then his arms closed around her, and he buried his face in her hair.
He held her like that for a long time, neither of them speaking. At last, she raised her eyes to his, and reached up to take his face in her hands. “I want more than just your arms around me, Lachlan. I want all of you.”
He leaned over her, his mouth hovering over hers, and Hyacinth opened her lips to him, eager to welcome him inside. His tongue found hers at once, stroking and teasing until she was panting from the delicious torment. She sank her fingers into his thick, dark hair and held him still, her lips clinging to his, her tongue nipping and licking into his mouth to deepen the kiss.
“So sweet,leannan,” he whispered to her between long, slow, drugging kisses. “Dreamed of holding you like this, touching you…making you mine.”
Hyacinth shivered at his hot breath drifting over her throat, the glide of his lips over the sensitive skin of her neck. She writhed and squirmed to press closer to him, to touch her bare skin to his, but she was frustrated by his shirt, and what felt like endless layers of silk gown and boned corset.
“Too many clothes.” Her cheeks heated at her own shamelessness, but she grasped a fold of his shirt and tugged it loose from his breeches, then slid her hands up the solid curve of his spine. His skin was warm, and stretched taut over the rippling muscles of his back.
The half-grin she loved so much drifted over his lips, and he reached behind him and pulled the shirt over his head.
“Oh.” Her breath caught in her throat when his chest and stomach were bared to her gaze. “You’re so…”
She trailed off, because she’d never seen anything as beautiful as he was, and she wasn’t sure a woman was supposed to call a man beautiful. She’d known he was strong—a coat, a waistcoat, layers of linen and wool—they couldn’t disguise the power of his body, but to see him like this, with those impossibly wide shoulders, the hard planes of his chest, and his smooth, perfect skin stretched over layers of muscle…
She laid her hand against his taut belly. A hoarse groan rumbled in his chest, and his abdomen tensed and jerked at her touch.
Her eyes darted to his face. He was watching her with heavy-lidded hazel eyes. “Do you want to touch me,leannan?” he asked, his voice husky, strained.
She watched his face as she let her hand drift lower, her fingers tracing the dark, narrow line of hair on his belly. “Yes. Everywhere.”
He took her hand and pressed his lips against her palm in a searing kiss, then without warning he swung her up into his arms, cradling her against his bare chest as he crossed the room and laid her down on a sofa in front of the fireplace.
Then he sank to his knees beside her, and turned her face to his with gentle fingers. He studied her for a moment, then said. “You look nervous,aingeal. Do you trust me to take care of you?”
Hyacinth fiddled with a fold of her skirts. “Yes. It’s just that…well, you’re a large, virile sort of man, Lachlan.”
He looked startled at this observation, but then he chuckled. “Have Lady Huntington and Lady Dare explained to you what happens between a man and a woman?”
Hyacinth gave him a shy glance, but he was looking at her with such tender humor, a smile rose to her lips. “A little. Just enough to worry me.”
“We’ll go slowly, then.” He reached down to remove her slippers. “There. Not too terrifying so far, is it?”
“Well, no.”
He began to slide the pins from her hair. He was careful, his fingers gentle. He caught his breath when the heavy locks tumbled over her shoulders and down her back. “So beautiful. I’ve imagined how it would look unbound since the first time I saw you.”
“You have?” Hyacinth flushed, her heart leaping with joy. “Truly?”
He laughed softly. “You sound surprised. I wonder what you’d think if you knew what else I’ve imagined.”
He kicked off his boots, then stretched out beside her on the sofa, gathered her into his arms, and caught her hand again. “Touch me,leannan.” He slid her palm over his bare stomach. “Anywhere you like.”
Hyacinth’s gaze roved over him, her lips parting at the glorious sight of this man spread out before her. He had a smattering of dark hair across the sculpted muscles of his chest, and lower down, under his belly button—the line of it disappeared into his breeches.
She pressed her mouth against the center of his chest to feel the frantic thump of his heart against her lips, and he cupped his hand around the back of her head, urging her to explore his body.
Encouraged by his breathlessness, she covered his chest with kisses, then slid lower to nip at his belly. Lachlan gasped, his fingers tightening in her hair, his neck arching as his head tipped back against the sofa. “Your mouth feels so good.”
He curled her tighter into his side and trailed his fingers through her hair in smooth, steady strokes, catching at the long strands and murmuring with pleasure as the waves fell over his stomach.
Hyacinth’s eyes fell half-closed. His touch was gentle, soothing, but she wasn’t at all tired. Her body hummed with a strange, restless energy, as if he’d tapped a tuning fork and set it vibrating deep inside her. It was a gentle hum at first, but as he continued to stroke her and she became conscious of the warmth of his chest rising and falling beneath her cheek, it grew until the urge to be closer to him was overwhelming. “Lachlan?”
He swallowed, and squeezed her hip. “Yes?”
