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“Tell me what you want,” he whispered.
But she just shook her head. “I don't know. I don't know what I want.”
“Yes,” he said, pushing her dress down to bare one silky shoulder, “you do.”
Instantly, her eyes flew to his face. “You know I've never—”
He put a gentle finger to her lips. “I know. But it doesn't matter. You still know what feels right.”
“Blake, I—”
“Hush.” He closed her lips with a searing kiss, then opened them again with a hot flick of his tongue. “For example,” he said against her mouth, “do you want more of this?”
She didn't move for a moment, and then he felt her lips move up and down as she nodded.
“Then you shall have it.” He kissed her fiercely, savoring the subtle minty taste of her.
She moaned beneath him, and tentatively placed her hand on his cheek. “Do you like that?” she asked shyly.
He growled as he tore off his cravat. “You may touch me anywhere. You may kiss me anywhere. I burn just for the sight of you. Can you imagine what your touch does?”
With sweet hesitation she slid down and kissed his smooth-shaven jaw. Then she moved to his ear, then his neck, and Blake thought he would surely die in her arms if his passion remained unfulfilled. He pushed her dress even lower, revealing one small but, in his opinion, perfectly shaped breast.
He bent his head to her and took the nipple in his mouth, the rosy bud tightening between his lips. She was moaning beneath him, calling out his name, and he knew she wanted him.
And the knowledge thrilled him.
“Oh Blake oh Blake oh Blake,” she groaned. “Can you do that?”
“I assure you I can,” he said with a low chuckle.
She gasped as he sucked a touch harder. “No, but is it allowed?”
His chuckle turned into a throaty laugh. “Anything is allowed, my sweet.”
“Yes, but I—ooooooohhhhhh.”
Blake grinned with a very masculine smugness as her words lost their coherence. “And now,” he said with a wicked leer, “I can do it to the other one.”
His hands went to work pushing her dress off her other shoulder, but just before he revealed his prize, he heard the most awful sound.
Perriwick.
“Sir? Sir? Sir!!!” This, accompanied by the most annoyingly persistent knocking.
“Blake!” Caroline gasped.
“Shhh.” He clamped his hand over her mouth. “He'll go away.”
“Mr. Ravenscroft! It's most urgent!”
“I don't think he's going to go away,” she whispered, her words getting muffled under his palm.
“Perriwick!” Blake bellowed. “I'm busy. Go away. Now!”
“Yes, I thought as much,” the butler said through the door. “It's what I most feared.”
“He knows I'm here,” Caroline hissed. Then, quite suddenly, she turned red as a raspberry. “Oh, dear Lord, he knows I'm here. What have I done?”
