And she did. The blush spread and darkened as she closed her eyes, pressing her face into his chest. Her entire body jerked in tight rhythms as wetness flooded over his hand and wrist. Her moans, muffled by his waistcoat, resonated deeply within his chest, and she rocked against him. Thomas eased his hand from within her and wrapped both arms around her, holding her tightly against him, waiting as the last pulses of her muscles ceased.
He spoke into her hair. “You are so beautiful.”
Rose raised her head to look at him, her eyes half-lidded and a languorous smile on her face. “I feel as if I have no bones. Why do I have no bones?”
Thomas hugged her. “The euphoria of pleasure. That will pass. The good news is that you can do it again.”
She grinned. “Excellent idea. When I can walk once more.” She stroked his cheek. “Now I know why you wanted our first time to be in a bed, if this is what it’s like.”
The corner of his mouth twisted. “Oh, this is only a small portion of what it will be like.” He tightened his arms around her. “There is much more to enjoying each other than this.”
She leaned her head on his shoulder. “That sounds glorious.”
“It most certainly is.”
“Thomas?”
He kissed her forehead. “Hm?”
She raised her head and looked at him. The bliss of passion had left her face and a light that was part inquisitiveness, part mischievousness shone in her eyes.
“Rose? What are you thinking?”
She pressed her rear against him, which sent a shock of pleasure from his groin to his brain, and he hissed. “Rose!”
She spoke slowly, her words quiet but enticing, and her expression turned oddly somber. “I’m thinking you were enjoying—that—as well—but not as much. So I should do for you what you did for me. Bring you pleasure as well.” She slid a hand between them, her fingers moving down toward his waist.
Thomas caught her hand, staring at her, eyebrows arched, surprise halting his tongue for a few moments. “Lady Rose, how do you even know about such a thing?”
Her smile held a bright shyness. “I know something of what men like. I have married sisters. They have been significantly more forthcoming than my mother.”
“And they told you about—”
“Hands. Mouth.” Her smile became a grin. “Lips.”
The thought of her mouth on him—Thomas swallowed a groan. “How highly improper of them.”
She wiggled her fingers against his hand. “But highly enjoyable. At least according to them.” Her expression softened. “Please. Let me try.”
Thomas hesitated. He wanted it, without a doubt, his ever-increasing erection evidence of that. But they were not yet married. If they got caught, it would not be the same as scrambling to push down her skirts. And there was something in her tone, in her expression... something he couldn’t quite name. “Rose, I do not think—”
“If you are worried about my honor, sir, I think that horse has already quite left the barn.”
She didn’t realize what she was saying. She couldn’t. “Not for me. You will always be a lady of honor to me.”
“Thomas, half thetonsaw me with my dress ripped stem to stern. They all know what Bentley did to me.”
“And they know what I did in response. For your honor.”
“Because I will be your wife.”
“But you are not yet. I can’t let you—”
Then she kissed him.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Rose wasn’t quitesure what would happen when she kissed Thomas. After all, it wasn’t as if they had not kissed recently and with exceptional passion. But in all the kissing they had shared, Thomas had always initiated it. Never Rose.
