“Come here, love.” He wrapped his hands around her waist, eased her onto her back against the soft carpet, then lowered himself on top of her, taking care to take his weight onto his arms so as not to crush her.
He was hard— God, had he ever been this hard? There was no way she couldn’t feel the insistent length of him pressing into her belly. It was too much, too soon. She was an innocent, and he wouldn’t frighten her for the world.
He let out a ragged sigh, and pressed his face into the silky arch of her neck, but when he began to shift away from her, she twined one leg around the back of his thigh, stopping him. “No. Don’t go.”
“Do you want me, Tilly?” If she did, then nothing in the world would tear him from her arms. Not her innocence, not the curse—nothing—because if she wanted him as much as he wanted her, then she would be his.
His.
“Yes.” She dropped her forehead to his chest, her cheeks pink. “Yes, I want you.”
“Then I won’t leave you.” He toyed with the edges of her cloak. “May I take this off?”
She gazed up at him, the firelight flickering over her delicate features, the blue eyes he’d begun to dream about fixed on his face, wide and trusting. “Yes.”
He made quick work of the cloak, then settled back over her, pressing tender kisses to her forehead, her cheeks, her lips before sliding lower to taste the fragrant skin of her throat, and dear God, he wanted to taste her everywhere, to caress every inch of her skin with his lips, to devour her until she was writhing beneath him, begging him for the pleasure only he could give her, a pleasure she had no words for.
He trailed one hot kiss after another from her neck to the base of her throat, lingering over every kiss until at last—God, at last—he flicked his tongue over the tip of the blush pink nipple visible under the damp muslin of her night rail. She was sweet, so sweet, and so beautiful, with her hair a wild tangle around her face, and her nipples straining. “Does that feel good, love?”
“Ah.” She surged beneath him as he teased his tongue lightly over one hungry peak, her soft whimpers and the frantic tug of her hands in his hair driving him mad. “More. Please, Kit.”
“I will never deny you anything, Tilly.” He dropped a soft kiss between her breasts, then closed his lips around her engorged nipple, and suckled her through the muslin.
“Oh, oh…” Her head fell back against the carpet, her neck arching as he feasted on her, suckling and stroking one nipple, tugging the peak between his lips and caressing her with his tongue while he toyed with the other, pinching it gently between his fingers, dragging one helpless moan after another from her lips.
“That’s it, love. Cry out for me,” he whispered, his breath hot against her ear.
“I—I need…” Her words were drowned in another moan as he tugged her earlobe between his teeth, biting gently.
He knew what she needed, and there was nothing in the world that could have stopped him from giving it to her. “Open for me, Tilly,” he murmured, pressing his palm against the inside of her thigh.
She didn’t hesitate, but spread her legs for him at once. He held her gently, keeping her open to him as he slid his thigh between hers. “Does it ache here, Tilly?” He brushed his fingers over the soft, damp curls between her legs.
“Yes.” Her hips jerked, straining against him. “Yes!”
He touched her again, letting his knuckles graze the sweet, tender nub there. “May I touch you?”
“Yes!Please, Kit.”
Her soft, desperate pleas were driving him mad, driving him to abandon his intention to bring her to release with his fingers. The sweetness of her flesh, the slick honey…he had to taste her, couldn’t go another moment without tasting her. He opened his mouth over the silky skin of her belly, then slid lower, lower, to the tender, aching nub between her thighs.
Closer, closer—
“Kit!” Tilly cried out when he pressed his lips to the inside of her thigh, and she surged upward, tugging at his hair, the furious flush in her cheeks visible even in the dim light. “You can’t—”
“I can. I must.” He eased her back down and pressed his palms against her thighs, holding her firmly open to him. “It’s alright, love.” He dipped down, and dropped a kiss on the secret place between her legs. “I just want to taste you. I have to taste you. Please, Tilly.”
She said nothing, but slowly the tension in her body eased. Her fingers went limp in his hair, and then he wasthere, his tongue probing until a soft cry broke from her lips, and her knees fell open in silent invitation.
That was all he needed.
He stroked her with his tongue, lashing at the tiny bud between her silky thighs, over and over again until whatever misgivings she might have had about this most intimate of acts dissolved in another strangled moan. “Dear God,Kit.”
“So sweet, Tilly.” He growled against her quivering flesh. “So beautiful.”
He couldn’t get enough of her—the taste of her, delicate against his tongue, and her sounds, desperate moans and gasps as he licked and nipped at her slick flesh, drawing teasing circles with his tongue until she was clutching wildly at him, her hips surging higher with every caress, arching up to meet his mouth. “Please. Oh, please, Kit.”
Did she know what she begging for?
