So impatient. “What do you want me to do?”
“Kiss me.” She tilted her head back.
He didn’t need to be told twice.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her sweet mouth to his. Immediate desire shot to his groin. His thoughts became a jumble of incoherent voices.
He forgot to ask her again if she wanted to marry him. Later, later, later.
He deepened the kiss, exploring her mouth with slow lashes of his tongue. She wilted in his arms, running her hands over his chest.
Holding her by the waist, he lifted her and laid her on the edge of the bed. She breathed hard already, and he hadn’t done anything yet.
“I like kissing you,” she said, her lips glistening.
“I like kissing you, too.” He unbuttoned her shirt. “Lie down.”
He took his time uncovering her creamy skin although the corset and chemise didn’t reveal much. The hooks on the corset were little buggers, hard to unfasten, but he won the battle with patience, kissing her now and then. He discarded her corset and shirt, leaving her chemise on. Her cheeks were a riot of colours.
“Embarrassed?” he asked.
“No, no. A little. May I keep the chemise?”
He took her chin and kissed her. “Your chemise will stay. For now.”
The skirt and petticoats joined the shirt quickly. The boots needed to go as well. She lay on his bed in only her chemise, drawers, and stockings— the most beautiful vision he’d ever seen.
She moaned when he caressed her lovely legs, feeling her warm skin through the fabric of her stockings. He ran his hand up, following the curve of her waist to her breasts. Their dark tips were visible underneath the flimsy fabric of her chemise. A few strings tied it on the front, and he pulled at them slowly, watching her reaction.
Her eyes were glowing, and her chest rose and fell quickly. A shiver went through him when he lowered the straps and tugged the chemise down until her breasts were bared. Her drawers were next.
Bugger. He’d promised her the chemise would have stayed. His ability to focus was seriously compromised by her beauty. He went to pull the chemise up again, but she stopped him.
“No. I changed my mind. I like how you look at me,” she whispered.
“How do I look at you?”
“As if I were beautiful.”
He focused seriously now because he needed to be clear. “You are beautiful. I’ve never seen a more beautiful woman.” He kissed her lips, cheeks, and neck, inhaling her flowery scent.
She laughed but fell silent when he rolled her nipple between his lips. Quick pants came out of her. He forced himself to be delicate. She arched her back and closed her fists in his hair as he tongued her breasts, pinching and sucking at her nipples.
“I like this,” she whispered among breaths.
“Good.” He kissed his way down, parting her legs to accommodate his bulk.
She propped herself up on her elbows, but plopped down again when he brushed her intimately.
“It’s…” She gasped.
“I know.” He ignored the aching stirring in his trousers or the wound in his arm throbbing. That moment was for her only.
He lapped at her, smiling when her hips lurched up. He drew circles with the tip of his tongue, tasting her sweetness. She said something unintelligible, and he paused, worried she might have asked him to stop.
“Do you like it?” He gazed up, lingering on the hardened and glistening tips of her breasts.
“Yes, yes.” She nodded several times, so he guessed he could continue.
