There was his name in her mouth again. That beautiful, lovely mouth that tasted so sweet. “It isn’t right. I don’t deserve you.”
“This isn’t about what someone deserves. This is about desire.”
“You can’t say that word to me right now, Ophelia. It isn’t fair.” Before he could understand what was happening, she was standing so close to him again, her beautiful hair glimmering in the low light, smelling like jasmine and vanilla and citrus. She was light and goodness and purity. Oh God, she was a virgin, wasn’t she? He was about to deflower an earl’s daughter? “I can’t do this to you.”
Both her eyebrows rose up. “Are you telling me that I don’t know what I want?”
“Yes! No,” he said, not sure what he meant anymore. He couldn’t think when she was so close.
“Because I want you, Julian. You. Not anyone else. And I don’t want to wait for a marriage proposal from Lord Fairport. I don’t want to be the woman who is exchanged for dowry, as if I’m livestock. Let me be a person. Let me choose my lover. Let me choose you.”
“I feel like I must be a bad man, because any excuse that allows me to tear your clothes off sounds like a good one.”
She laughed, that silver bell tinkling sound he loved. “Julian. You can tear my clothes off.”
“Oh, thank God,” he said and rushed forward, pulling her into his arms. He kissed her again, letting his mind go blank, forgetting all the worries and reasons he shouldn’t be doing this.
She pushed the braces off his shoulders, and he started unbuttoning her evening gown. The buttons were damnably tiny as he fumbled with them. Finally, he’d undone enough that he could push it down to her waist. In the back of his mind, his conscience warned him off, begged him to stop.
He pulled away then to look at her. The creamy expanse of her shoulders, and her breasts plump and round in her corset. She was perfect, a dream that he couldn’t have ever conjured up. He exhaled harshly, trying to bring himself under some semblance of control.
She let him look his fill, watching his face carefully, and he didn’t have the awareness to monitor his expression. He couldn’t, instead he gaped at her in amazement. But instead of waiting for him to be finished, she undid his collar, letting it fly wide, and unbuttoned his shirt. Her fingers were deft, easily opening the larger buttons.
He stared at the two perfect breasts cupped in her corset. He felt like a young man all over again, thinking that he might get to touch them. Then her tender palms touched his bare chest, lying flat over where his heart thrummed. He looked into her eyes, and she raised her gaze to his.
She was here forhim. This wasn’t like anything he’d experienced before. He wasn’tsavingher, as he’d felt with Maria; and he wasn’t a toy, as he’d felt with Delphine. She was his junior, yes, but she was also showing him her entire self, expecting him to do the same. He would not deny her this.
The connection felt deep, moving from him to her and back again, circling around one another, as if they had been two pieces of the same soul, broken apart and flung into time.
“Julian,” she whispered.
“Ophelia.” He cupped her lovely face again. God, she was beautiful. Those blue eyes swallowed him, redeemed him, made every moment from before he met her irrelevant. He had missed her so much in the past months. Even though he had seen her, that distance she’d kept between them had made him feel desperate. And now, now she was in his room, asking for more. Asking for everything he had to offer her.
“I’ve never felt this way before,” she said.
“Neither have I,” he admitted, his thumb stroking her cheek. He leaned down and kissed her lightly, pleasant and soft, which gave her hands time to roam his chest, pulling at his shirt.
She was clearly interested in both of them disrobing, but he didn’t want to assume too much. He had to remind the demon in his trousers that she was a virgin and he needed to go slower than it wanted.
“May I help take off your corset?” His fingers itched to touch that smooth, creamy skin. So different than his own. But he kept his hands away, waiting for her permission.
She nodded and turned away, clearing her golden hair over one shoulder and looking back at him. It was a coquette’s pose, but she looked deadly serious. He loosened the ribbons, his fingers shaking. Why was he nervous?
“I’ve got it,” she whispered, and she pushed it down, wiggling as she inched it over her hips. It was mesmerizing. He unbuttoned his trousers and whipped his shirt off over his head. She turned and gaped at his bare chest. It made him wonder if she’d ever seen a man at this level of dishabille before, and he enjoyed her assessing gaze. Her chafed red lips parted at the sight of him. If he knew how to show off for her, he would. But as it was, his brain could only think of how she still wore some scraps of fabric, and that was unacceptable.
He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. She turned, holding her arms close to her chest, covering her breasts, letting blonde locks trail down her shoulders. “And the rest?”
*
Ophelia had neverbeen this bare before. Not just her clothing, but every part of her ego. Any harsh word from him would destroy her, and she trembled at her vulnerability. That he might find her ridiculous and laugh at her. That he might tell her she was doing this all wrong, and if she were smarter, she would know that.
And he asked her to remove her last bit of clothing, her underskirt and stockings. She’d already removed her bustle and the crinoline before coming to him wearing a dress that did not require those enhancements. But now, stripped of all those defenses, she was left only as herself. As the rest of her clothing dropped to the luxuriously carpeted floor, she heard his harsh intake of breath. Had she done something wrong?
His dark eyes were fastened on her, roving her body. She dropped her hands down. This was her. She took a deep breath, waiting, uncertain what came next.
“You’re so beautiful, Ophelia,” he murmured.
He was bigger than she expected. Somehow, with clothes, he was unassuming, harmless. But without, the lean expanse of his chest, peppered with dark hair that convened below his navel, seemed more powerful, stronger, wider than before.
