“I know, love.” He kissed her, brief, fleeting presses of his still-smiling lips. “It’s all right. I know.” He held her shoulders for a moment, his hands sliding down her arms until he intertwined their fingers.
Andrew steered her toward the settee she’d just abandoned, and Della let out an inelegant giggle.
“What is so funny?” Andrew asked as he spun her around to lower her body to the cushions.
“You said it was much too forward to walk into the home of a baroness and ask to court her, but here you are now in a baroness’s sitting room in the middle of the night, making all sorts of propositions.”
He grinned, and Della left a thumbprint in the hollow of one of his dimples.
“Della, you told me that you wanted to marry me years ago. What else was I to do?” He crawled across the divan, leaning his body over hers. Close, but not nearly close enough.
“Nothing,” Della said. She hooked her right leg around his waist and used all the strength she possessed to pull him down on top of her. “Nothing at all.”
His eyes drifted down between them. His hand ran up her leg, from where her knee rested at his hip up to where her thigh disappeared under her gown. Della arched her back, her neck stretching in search of his mouth. She bit his bottom lip, and she felt a guttural moan leave his chest. She responded in kind, letting her body do what it wanted and rolling her hips against his. Before she could even emit the hiss of pain she’d anticipated, he rested his palm flat on the flare of her hip bone. Just as he had the first time. The pressure eased her pain, but his fingers splayed out so close to where she wanted them only ignited a pressure of an entirely different kind.
Della let her hips slide against his once more, this time she felt only the press of his hardness against her core. Her hands sought him out, gripping wherever she could reach. The back of his neck. The curve ofhis shoulder. The space where his shirt was coming untucked from his trousers. That drew her focus, and she tugged at his clothes with all the dexterity she had left in her near-destroyed hands.
As she grabbed at him, Andrew began to understand her intentions. She pulled at the buttons of his waistcoat. He tugged at his cravat. Della wondered why she hadn’t started there. She loved that hollow at the bottom of his throat so much. She ran her tongue over it as soon as he tossed his cravat away, and that little slice of exposed skin made her want to burn all of the cravats he owned.
He rose to his knees to strip his shirt off, and while Della whimpered at the loss of his weight, she had to admit she did enjoy the view. Within moments, he was back, slowly pushing her gown up her thighs. Della met him halfway, peeling the thin fabric off of her in a show of the kind of boldness only he inspired. His mouth grazed over her collarbone, his teeth gently dragging down toward the valley between her breasts as he loosened her stays and pulled at her chemise.
“Della,” he moaned her name against the skin above her sternum. Her back arched again, wanting more of his mouth.
He continued his path down her body with the faintest licks of his tongue, tugging clothing off as he went. He sucked on a spot next to her left hip, right beside where his hand still rested. Her hips thrust against him again, and he seemed to get the message. She felt the heat of him on her core, his fingers dancing over her flesh where she was wet and wanting. There was the press of his tongue again, those slow swipes through her folds.
“Tell me to stop if I hurt you.” He looked up at her from between her thighs, and she was nearly too captivated to respond. “Della?” he asked, when she’d been staring for a moment too long.
“Yes?” she responded. She was still half dazed, even though he’d stopped the movement of those talented fingers and his mouth was otherwise occupied. Della ran her fingers through his unruly curls. Sherealized they were particularly disheveled because she’d been tugging on them.
“If something causes you pain, you have to stop me. Promise me.” He looked so suddenly serious that Della had no choice but to nod.
Andrew squeezed her hip, and then he was back to where she wanted him. As much as she loved this, as much as she needed the pleasure he brought her, she did miss the feel of those eyes already. His deft fingers worked over her again, and fire spread down Della’s spine. He thrust two fingers inside her body, and Della gasped. He stopped for a moment, as if trying to make sure she was well. He must have seen the bliss on her face, because he moved those fingers again, crooking them to hit a perfect place that made Della’s eyes roll back in her head.
Pleasure mounted like nothing she’d ever felt before, and every roll of her hips pressed the heel of his hand against the apex of her sex. Between her legs, he was frantic. His fingers moved and his hand flexed against her hip and he pressed hot, lazy kisses against whatever skin he could reach. Her hip, the underside of her breast, her shoulder.
Della reached for his neck, pulling him up to her lips. Her tongue swept into his mouth and she came undone. She gasped into the air he breathed, and she shuddered as white-hot sparks exploded across her vision. All of her muscles went lax, and Andrew’s weight came over her. Her hands still gripped his face, and she swept her thumb over one of his eyebrows.
“I love you,” he murmured, “so much, Della.”
“So much,” she echoed.
Andrew moved to pull away, to lean back or climb off of her or extricate himself from the cramped settee that was not made for this kind of activity. Automatically, without her permission, even, her arms tightened around him. It was a paltry attempt to keep him there, as her grip was weak at best. Once again, Andrew froze.
Her legs were still tingling, but she wrapped them around hiswaist. Her thighs pulled his hips toward hers, and she felt the hard press of him against her center. Just a brush of him against her, and she wanted so much more.
“Andrew,” she moaned, and she’d never heard herself sound so desperate. So needy.
“Are you sure?” he asked, his hands running all over her. Up and down her sides, over her face, through her hair. He was everywhere except where she needed him.
“Yes,” she nodded. Della leaned up and kissed him. She used her mouth on his and her legs around him to pull him closer.
“I...” Andrew broke away from her kiss just enough to speak. At his hesitation, Della froze. She tried to let him go, but her hip was locked into place.
“What is the matter? Do you not want to—”
“No, no,” he assured her, “I do.” His hand fell to her hip again, massaging that spot. By the time her muscles loosened, she didn’t want to let him go anymore. “It’s just... I have not... I have never done this before,” he admitted.
“Oh,” Della breathed. He was still so close that she’d felt those words pressed against her cheek. She pulled back, locking her fingers around the back of his neck. “Neither have I.”
