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“I don’t mind,” she whispered against his lips, “and you’re no lout. Can you make that happen again? What you did that felt so nice? Next time?”
She felt those same lips stretch into a smile at her request, and then a most emphatic “yes” was whispered against her mouth.
Chapter Nineteen
Beauty is the lover’s gift.
—William Congreve, The Way of the World (1700)
“Good morning, Mrs. Greymont.” Georgina opened her eyes to Jeremy’s grinning and rather smug face above her.
“What are you doing?”
“Watching you wake,” he said naughtily, “a most mesmerizing sight.”
“Why?” Indulging in a satisfying stretch, Georgina became aware of her lack of clothing and the newness of being in bed with a man. A very masculine and amorous man.
“Well, imagine my surprise this morning to find a gorgeous woman, naked in my bed. Wherever did she come from? I wondered. And what should I do with her?”
His silliness forced a true laugh from her. She giggled, playing along. “Maybe I am lost. You should send me on my way, I think, and by the by, my memories of you are quite clouded. I don’t remember much. Your name, sir?”
“You don’t remember? Tsk, tsk, we cannot have that,” he purred, arching a brow and looking so very devilishly handsome in his mock displeasure. “And you are going nowhere!” Reaching her waist, he tickled quickly. “Do you remember now?”
Shrieking laughter was the only response she could give him.
“I like you here in my bed, especially the naked part!” He raised both brows rakishly. He was a rake. A very sweet and lovely rake. And he was hers now.
“Your name?” She managed to ask through bubbled laughter while attempting to block his tickling. “You neglected to tell me your name, sir!”
He loomed over her lips, hovering close. “I am Mr. Greymont, besotted husband of Mrs. Greymont, a most beauteous woman who must be ravished properly, and most urgently I might add.”
“Ah, really? Is this something Mrs. Greymont should expect to happen often? Ravishment?”
“I should say, yes. In fact, I know she should resign herself to it.”
“And why is that?” she quipped.
“Because Mr. Greymont cannot keep his hands off her! He’s only a lowly man for God’s sake.” His hand started roving purposefully over her hip and the swell of her bottom, just to prove his point. “He cannot help himself.”
“Mmm, they are lovely hands, and he does such wonderful things with them.”
“He is skilled with other parts besides hands,” he reminded knowingly, his voice dropping to a husky burr as his blue eyes deepened in color. He wanted to have her again. This she was certain of. The previous night’s instruction had taught her that much at least.
“Ah, yes.” Heat flooded her lower parts at his naughty words. She knew what was coming. It felt good to be touched and caressed and kissed. Desired.
He pressed forward, his stiff shaft to her core and his hot mouth to her breasts. The heat of their bodies coming together, ignited an incendiary fire with only one way to extinguish.
* * * *
“And to think we worried you’d be unable to bear this,” he murmured, tracing a finger over the curve of a breast.
“I find myself completely and utterly happy for all my misunderstandings.” Gina rolled on top of him and grinned. “It’s a good thing to be wrong sometimes.”
“I am so relieved you’re not afraid of me—of this. I never want to hurt or frighten you.”
“I know that.”
Jeremy reached around the small of her back with his hands and pressed downward, smoothing over her lush hips and gripping both sides while grinding another erection up from beneath. His near-constant state of hardness around her was another surprise.
