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“Hmm.” He sauntered toward her, careful not to make any sudden moves. “When one lies abed in the middle of the day and sleeps. Surely you’ve heard of it?”
“I’m not sure you’re interested in sleep,” she muttered.
“Perhaps not.” He reached up with his good hand and gently worked loose a hairpin. The escaping lock of hair immediately slithered down her back. “Do you have any other ideas?”
“Godric,” she whispered.
“Hmm?” Two more pins fell to the floor.
“You haven’t recovered sufficiently.” Her brows were knit in worry.
His gaze darted to hers and he smiled gently. “Then you’ll have to do most of the work, won’t you?”
Her sweet lips parted soundlessly, her eyes rounding.
He couldn’t help but bend his head to hers, covering her mouth with his, tasting again the wild strawberry sweetness of her tongue. Something seemed to settle in his chest, relaxing from an anxiety he hadn’t even known he’d felt.
Her hands rose, fluttering by his shoulders, but before they could alight, he broke away, circling to her back, drawing the rest of her pins from her hair. The entire dark mass came tumbling down, a glorious tangle, and he stroked his fingers through it, leaning down to inhale the scent of orange blossoms.
“Godric?” She stood stock-still, save for a fine tremble running through her shoulders.
“My love?” He lifted her hair in his hand, watching as the sunlight from the bedroom windows filtered through the locks.
“What …” There was an odd catch in her voice. “What kind of work do you want me to do?”
He smiled as he brought her hair to his lips. “You can help me undress, for one.”
“Oh! Of course.”
She turned and he let the locks slide through his fingers. He still wore the boards on his left wrist, which had necessitated both his shirt and coat being slit up the left sleeves. He stood still as Megs held the coat so he could slip his right hand from it before she eased the garment over his burdened left arm. She had an adorable frown between her brows and her lips were parted as she concentrated, the tip of her tongue curled up and touching her upper teeth.
The sight was too tempting and as she began unbuttoning his waistcoat, he bent and caught her lower lip in a teasing bite.
She blinked, her eyes widening as he straightened. “That’s … that’s very distracting.”
“I apologize.”
She snorted under her breath, her cheeks brightening again as she took his waistcoat off. His neck cloth was next, easily tossed to a chair, and then he watched as she worked at the buttons of his shirt. The room was silent, the only sound the faint snuffling of the puppies in the other room and their own breaths. He was aware that he was breathing deeply, that he was already hard and pulsing, but he was in no hurry. He could spend hours thus, simply watching the constant flicker of changing emotions across her face. She was so vibrant, his Megs, so alive with hope and love and happiness. If she left him—when she left him—he didn’t know how he would return to his old life.
It would be like living without sunlight.
He pushed the thought aside because he wanted to concentrate on this moment, remember it when he dwelt only in darkness again.
Godric lifted his arms, letting her draw off his shirt over his head, feeling the brush of fine linen against his abdomen, the finer brush of her curious fingers. The shirt fell forgotten to the floor and then both of her hands were on him, stroking up over his ribs, brushing through the hair on his chest.
“You’re beautiful,” she whispered, and his lips quirked in amusement.
He wasn’t anything like beautiful, but if she wanted to call him so, he would let her.
Then her fingertips were on his nipples, circling, and the smile died on his lips. She bent forward and pressed her mouth to one, flattening her tongue against his flesh before licking him like a cat does cream. He couldn’t help the groan that burst from his mouth.
He looked down and met wide brown eyes, watching him even as she kissed him softly. “Do you like that?”
Couldn’t she tell? He nodded jerkily and she hummed to herself before moving to the other side, tonguing him even as she thumbed the wet nub she’d left.
He threw back his head at the sensation, his eyelids half lowering in pleasure. But she moved then, sinking to her knees to remove his stockings and shoes before unbuttoning the placket of his breeches. The position, the nearness of her innocent lips to his randy cock, made him swallow drily. She must have sensed his stillness, for she glanced up curiously at him, pausing a moment when she met his eyes. She froze, looking at him, her hands directly over his hard flesh; then she ducked her head and fumbled the placket open, stripping him of his breeches and smallclothes. His cock bobbed obscenely before her and he held his breath as she seemed to lean closer.
o;What do you mean?”
