Page 114 of A Deal with the Devil

Kitty frowned. “How much did you… Never mind, I don’t want to know. It will make me queasy.”

“Yes,” he agreed easily. “It will. And yet it was worth every penny.”

She shook her head, wearing only her stays and her chemise. She could argue, she could pretend that she did not feel pleasantly spoiled—later. There simply was no time for it now. Nor the relief that followed his statement that she was not wearing a borrowed dress belonging to someone more suited to marrying an earl.

“Are you cross that I did not let you choose your own dress?” he asked. “I sent Yelena because it seemed expeditious.”

She nodded. “It was.”

“There are stockings,” Devil said, flicking open a small box. They were fine silk, ivory with gold ribbons. She had never seen anything so delicate or so pretty in her life.

“Let me,” he added, lifting her foot onto the seat between his knees. He slipped the stocking over her toes and dragged it gently up her bare leg, leaving goosebumps in his wake. He bent his head to tie the ribbon. When he followed with the next stocking, he first brushed his mouth up her calf, over her knee, inside her thigh, until she was biting her lip on a gasp.

He undid the laces of her stays, his gaze never straying from hers until he dragged her chemise down over one shoulder, to bare her breast to him. He sucked at her nipple. The hot, wet heat of his mouth, the stroke of his tongue—all sent pulls of longing straight to her quim. He did not relent, not even when she clutched at his arms, his hair, moaning. He only moved to the other breast and back again until she thought she might come from this alone.

The light from the gas lamps glowed at the windows, behind the curtains. The carriage took a right, jostling them. Devil groaned against her nipple. “Damn the guests.” Her chuckle quickly turned to a gasp when he sucked at her breast again, a hot, deep pull that made her squirm. He pulled back reluctantly. His eyes were almost too green, even in the half light.

Her breath was shaky as she reached for the new stays, edged with gold to match her dress. They were soft, structured. Nothing poked through thinning material into her ribs. Devil helped her tie the laces, though he complained about it. “I should be helping you out of this, not into it.”

She was grinning when she pulled the gown over her head and it settled down around her like a cloud of fire. It was simple enough in design, with little embellishment, and the gold silk moved like liquid.

“It brings out your freckles,” Devil said, satisfied.

“I’ve been told that is not a good thing.”

“Because you’ve been talking to idiots.”