“Does my touch bother you?” She wasn’t an experienced lover, so the possibility she already did something wrong was real.
“No. Quite the opposite. It’s very intense.”
“I want to touch your skin.” She barely finished saying it before he unbuttoned his waistcoat and shirt, revealing his golden torso.
She disagreed. His skin felt soft and silky under her fingers. She touched his hard pectorals, the defined ridges of his abdominal muscles, and the tendons in his neck.
Each inch of him revealed a little secret about his life on the island, the hardship he’d endured, the long hours in the sun, and the fight for his survival. He closed his eyes and groaned deep in his throat as she explored him both with a lover’s fascination and an artist’s interest. The hard ridge straining beneath the flap of his breeches caught her eyes, and curiosity won. She unfastened the opening, pouting when she realised it wasn’t a quick task. Lord, so many buttons. She’d never paid attention to a man’s breeches. Her breath hitched when his hard, thick shaft came out. Goodness. She’d already seen it, but the sight triggered a new flush through her. He was thick with a glistening drop on the blunt head. How could it fit inside her? Just the thought shot another wave of pleasure to her core.
“Maddie.” He propped himself up on his elbows, reddening furiously. “I apologise.”
“For what?” It was with effort that she averted her gaze from his inviting length to his face.
“I know it’s...I can’t stop it. When you’re close, I feel my body tensing.” He spoke faster. “If it offends you—”
“Offend me?”
“I might have forgotten or ignored my manners, but I do remember Robert commenting on the fact a gentleman should never, ever show his physical reaction to a lady. He said it was the most vulgar thing a gentleman could do.”
“Poppycock.” Right. She should have chosen another word. “He was partially right. When in the company of other ladies and gentlemen, you should follow Robert’s advice, but it’s only you and me now, and I want to see you.”
He reddened further. Gosh, he looked adorable. She closed her hand around him in reply.
He jolted and closed his eyes again as a guttural noise came out of his throat. A curse escaped him, but she wasn’t shocked. Quite the opposite. She stroked him and caressed his smooth tip with her thumb. The effect on him shocked her. He clenched his fists tightly at his sides as if in pain, his whole body tensing. She worked his length gently, memorising the feel of him in her hand, the hard muscles, and the silky skin. A pearly drop appeared on the tip, and she spread it around, noticing how his shaft twitched and swelled under her hand.
He panted now, utterly beautiful with his flushed cheeks, parted lips, and Adam’s apple bouncing up and down. He was at her mercy, and she shouldn’t find it so heady. She moved her hand faster, and the rhythm of his breathing matched that of her hand. Spasms caught him as his muscles tightened and he spilled in her palm. She watched fascinated as his release came out in thick ribbons and wondered how it’d feel inside her or in her mouth. How she wished to capture his moment in a painting, his expression of ecstasy.
“I’m sorry.” He sat bolt upright, producing a handkerchief from his pocket. “I’m sorry.” He wiped her hand clean while avoiding her gaze.
“Don’t apologise.”
He shook his head.
“Hector, please look at me.”
He did as he was told while wiping her fingers.
“You don’t have to apologise. It was wonderful. I loved every moment of it.” She caressed his cheek with her free hand. “I liked it. Why are you so bold when it’s you who touches me and so shy when it’s my turn?”
He drew in a shaky breath. “Because I can’t believe you like me as much as I like you.”
His usual honesty caused her heart to clench.
“Let’s dispel any doubts then, once and for all. I like you. I like touching you, and I want more. So much more. I want you, Hector. You. No one else. I want to feel you inside me and give you as much pleasure as possible. Will you share this journey with me? Will you let me be with you?”
He hugged her so quickly and with such strength she was shoved back. His strong arms wrapped around her and held her tightly. She hugged him back and rested her head on his chest.
Yes, she wanted so much more.
twenty-four
HECTOR COULDN’T THINK, breathe, or move without thinking of Maddie.
He’d tasted her only once, but her scent and the feeling of her soft skin would forever be imprinted in his memory. Too many emotions overwhelmed him from his desire to be alone with her again to his sense of duty and worry about his family’s legacy. It was out of sheer determination he attended an afternoon tea at the Serpentine that day just because he’d promised Ernest he’d do his best to fight Quentin’s allegations.
As he sat at a table surrounded—thank goodness—by trees, his cock twitched when the vision of Maddie touching him flashed unbidden across his mind. Yes, Robert had been right about gentlemen’s reactions being the worst affair possible. Hector couldn’t find a comfortable position and was terrified that one of the other attendees might see what happened in his breeches. If it weren’t for his intimate discomfort, he would appreciate the sunny corner of Hyde Park where they had luncheon. Tall sycamores and Scottish pine trees waved their branches in the breeze, carrying the fresh scent of moss. Ladies promenaded along the path, twirling their parasols. The view was lovely but for Mrs. Landon, who hadn’t yet forgiven him for his outburst, judging by the way she glowered at him.
Maddie sat next to him, laughing about something Verity had said, but he’d be damned if he followed the conversation. Maddie’s laughter was too distracting on top of everything else. Quentin and Annabelle chatted at the other side of the table, but he didn’t pay attention to them either. Ernest had insisted that keeping a civil relationship with Quentin and his peers would make things easier for him. He wasn’t sure. Mrs. Landon looked like she wanted to stab him with her parasol.
