Page 68 of A Remarkable Rogue

God help her…Yes. Please do.

“Take off the other stocking, Sydney,” he ordered quietly, but the husky purr of his voice shivered through her like the rumble of distant thunder.

She did as he commanded, placed her left leg on the stool, and reached beneath the hem of the shirt for her stocking. This time, she slid her palms along her leg as she pushed up the shirt, far higher than before, and revealed to his eyes a long stretch of bare thigh. And this time, when she untied the ribbon and rolled the stocking down her leg, her fingers brushed slowly down her calf as the tantalizing heat of his gaze prickled over her skin and formed goose bumps in its wake.

The stocking fell away to the floor.

His gaze drifted along the front of her body until it met hers. “Loosen your hair.”

Her fingers trembled as she performed his bidding and undid the braid she’d just woven.

“Now shake it out.”

She reached her hands up into her hair and ran her fingers through it to free the thick strands and let them cascade down her back. Every move she made was watched closely by his hazel eyes, whose intense gaze stirred a damp heat between her thighs. She shouldn’t like this as much as she did, being ordered about and controlled, yet his raw desire aroused her until she shook from it, until she would have gladly followed any order he gave as long as he kept looking at her.

“Come here, Baroness.”

Unable to stop herself because she simply wanted him too much, she went to him. “I’ve told you,” she scolded, although her voice was thick with need, “you shouldn’t call me baroness.”

“And I’ve told you.” He sat up and placed the unwanted port onto the side table. “Someone as strong, independent, and beautiful as you…deserves to be worshipped.”

Pleasure warmed through her even as she corrected, “That’s not what you said.”

“Didn’t I?” He feigned ignorance but couldn’t stop a sly smile from curving his sensuous lips.

She knelt on the floor between his knees. Her hands rested on his thighs as she tilted back her head to gaze up at him, and what she saw stole her breath away. Heat and arousal, longing and need—surely the same raw desire she glimpsed on his face was mirrored on her own.

“You still want me,” she whispered with surprise.

He trailed his fingertips across her cheek. “I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you sitting at that faro table.”

“But this morning when you weren’t in bed…” She shook her head. What was she supposed to believe—the desire for her that had him trembling or the distance he kept putting between them?

“I needed time to think.” He brushed his hand down her front and caressed her breast through the cotton shirt. It was a gesture both possessive and deliciously arousing. “Sometimes, you confuse the hell out of me.”

She arched into his touch as her body begged for more. Ironically, confusion was the one emotion she no longer felt about him. With Nate she was certain…certain that no man had ever made her feel this way before, that no other man ever would again.

When she was with him, she became a complete woman, a daring and courageous fighter to conquer the world and a seductress to rule his body. He made her feel beautiful, protected, free. Important. For the first time in her life, she felt as if she truly mattered. Not her money, her courtesy title, or her family’s connections, buther. She’d loved Michael and always would, but he had never made her feel the way she did when she was with Nate.

She wanted to love him, to let him into her heart the way she had with Michael, yet not enough to let him have reign over her to hurt her the way she’d been hurt before. She could give him her body, but she could never surrender her independence.

She rubbed her cheek against his thigh, unable to find the words to explain all that to him.

“I didn’t know what to make of you.” He gently stroked her hair. “When I met you, I knew there had to be more to you than what you showed the world, a vulnerability you revealed to no one.”

“Except you,” she admitted with a tremble of fear at exposing her emotions.

“Except me.” He pulled at the shoulder of the cotton shirt. “Take this off, Baroness, and let me see you again.Allof you.”

She succumbed with a shiver to both her desire for him and her fear of losing control. “If I’m a baroness,” she reminded him as she slid her hands tantalizingly up and down his thighs, her fingertips sinking into the hard muscle beneath his breeches, “then I outrank you, Captain.” Her hands moved up to where his breeches were already tented, and she brushed her fingertips over his hard erection, then teased him by moving her hands away. “Which means I give the orders, and you domybidding.”

He gave a throaty but strained laugh. “And if I refuse?”

“Court-martial.” She stroked slowly back up his thighs. This time, she cupped him against her palm through the fabric and elicited a sharp inhalation from him. “I might even have to put you in irons for punishment.”

She’d hoped for another laugh from him at that double entendre. Instead, he clenched his teeth as his cock jumped against her hand. Already he was fully aroused, large, and heavy. His reaction flamed the need licking inside her and emboldened her.

“Take off your waistcoat,” she commanded.