She giggled again, leaning forward toward him. Her thumb brushed the skin of his throat where she’d untied his cravat, and Andrew lost whatever remained of his good sense. His fingers swept up her legs, drifting over the silk stockings covering her feet, ankles, and calves. He traced circles over the backs of her knees as he raised his head to meet hers.
“May I?” he whispered against her lips. Andrew wasn’t sure exactly what he was asking for, but he’d take anything she was willing to give.
“Mmhm,” Della hummed again, tilting her chin until it bumped his. She kissed him with an enthusiasm that would’ve knocked him down had he not already been on the floor. His tongue swept against hers as his fingers tugged on her stockings, releasing her garters. Once all he could feel was warm, bare skin, he ran his hands from her feet to her thighs. Her toes and ankles were hot to the touch, and her knees felt fevered.
“Are you well?” He pulled back just enough to ask, his hands still drifting up and down her legs.
“I’m quite well,” she smiled. Her eyes were heavy lidded, as if she were seeing him through a haze. “Why do you ask?”
“Your joints are... hot,” he said, his thumbs massaging her knees again. “I know you must be in pain.”
“I am always in pain.” Her smile fell just a bit, and her face relaxed into something heavier and more heated. “But I don’t particularly care at the moment.”
Andrew tilted his head up again, capturing her lips. They were lazy, messy kisses, something to occupy his over-eager, roaming mouth while he reached around to her back to undo the buttons lining her bodice. He’d never considered himself a particularly coordinated person, but he was rather proud of himself for that effort. Her heavy beaded sleeves slipped down her shoulders and he peeled the gown down to her waist.
Della continued for him, raising up her hips to allow him to remove the dress entirely. Once it was a puddle of beads and silk on the floor, he watched as she slowly removed each of her gloves. Then she was touching him in earnest, her fevered knuckles gracing his cheek.
“May I?” she asked, those fingers scalding the skin of his neck as she tugged on the ends of his cravat.
“Of course.” His breath came out in such a rush it was almost a scoff. “Always. You can always do whatever you want with me, Della.”
She smiled, and he was close enough that he saw two of her. His vision blurred into a haze of nothing but Della, and Andrew swore he’d never been happier in his entire life. She began to unknot his cravat and she sank her hands underneath where his shirt draped open. He absolutely loathed formalwear, but he was developing a fondness for taking it off. His hands operated of their own accord, unlacing her stays much more efficiently than he had her boots. Freed from the confines of the garment, she seemed to breathe deeper. Her posture sagged a bit, and she fell forward more against him. Left only in her chemise, he could feel the heat of her more than ever. From her flushed cheeks to her curling toes, she was a blaze and he desperatelywanted to be burned.
“Lean back,” he whispered. There was no point to the hushed tone, it just felt like the slightest thing could pop the bubble of perfection around them, even the sound of his voice.
Della lay back and rested her head on the pillows. She reached for him, and he aligned his body over hers, supporting his weight with his forearms on the bed on either side of her.
“Della,” he moaned, sucking a spot just below where her jaw met her ear.
For a brief moment, he just smiled against her lips. Then she was smiling, too, and she giggled into his mouth. It was an expression of unbridled joy, and Andrew couldn’t believe he was somehow actually making her as happy as she made him.
Chapter Thirty-Four
“Andrew,” she moanedback. Della was awash in sensation, and somehow it still wasn’t enough. Her hands wrapped around his neck, sinking into those curls she loved so much. She pulled him down on top of her more fully, letting his weight rest on her body. All the breath rushed out of her at the feel of him, firm and hard everywhere she was soft and pliable. His skin was cool compared to hers, but the heat of his breath scorched her neck.
Della wanted that heat everywhere. For once, parts of her weren’t fevered enough. Andrew lifted up, his body shifting off of hers. She let out an audible groan, and he smirked. She caught a flash of those dimples in the low light, and that almost made up for it. She sat up, too, just a bit. Her shoulders were leaned against the pillows, her head against the headboard.
His mouth brushed her skin again, just over the neckline of her thin chemise. Della closed her eyes. Her hands roamed over his chest, feeling the corded muscles of his shoulders underneath his shirt. She felt him slide down her body in one fluid motion, his fingertips dragging wherever they went. He found the backs of her knees again, and something shifted. Her eyes flashed open and there he sat, on his knees on the bed in front of her, staring at the exposed skin beneath the hem of her chemise.
“Della, doyou want me to—” he started.
“Yes,” she interrupted. The only thing she didn’t want him to do was stop.
With his hands on her calves, he shifted her legs, spreading them farther apart. Della let out a muffled hiss.
“I’m sorry,” they said at the same time. He laughed, she didn’t.
“I am sorry,” she repeated. “That damned hip is always—”
“Della.” He leaned over her again, kissing her lips and her cheeks. Her nose and her forehead. Her eyelids and the wrinkle between her brows. “What have we said about apologizing?”
She did laugh then. It barely counted as a chuckle, but it was enough to ease the tension.
“Are you certain?” Andrew asked. His tongue laved the shell of her ear and Della heard a sound, an agonized moan that she didn’t even recognize had come from her own body.
“Yes,” she whispered. There was little space between them now, and his hands began to roam. At first, his knuckles just brushed her skin, down her arm and back up. Then he drifted over her collarbone and followed the neckline of her chemise downward. Those knuckles grazed the swell of her breast. His thumb teased her nipple and it drew out another one of those moans. She was weighed down by the delicious pressure of his body, but she felt the need to move. Her ribs heaved and her hips jerked.
“Fuck,” Andrew murmured under his breath. Della didn’t know if that was good or bad. She was about to ask, but then he lowered his mouth to her breast while his hand still circled the other.
