Page 84 of One Night with an Earl

The dress slipped off her shoulders, and she clutched it to her breasts as she glanced over her shoulder. “I don’t know if you would believe me if I told you.”

He kissed her bare shoulder. “Try.”

She sighed. “I wanted to experience passion with a man, just once, before my thirtieth birthday. Do you think that’s silly?”

Gliding into her tight virginal sheath had been exquisite torture. “No. I will be eternally grateful.”

“And I was grateful you were at the brothel. If not, I don’t know whom I would have chosen.”

Possessiveness rose in his chest. He’d never been jealous over a woman before, but the thought of Ana with any of the others—Elton, Sutherland, or, God forbid, Moore—made his gut clench.

He forced thoughts of her with others from his mind. She was here now. With him.

The red silk slithered down her curves to pool at her feet. She stepped out of the pile and faced him in a black demi corset and short chemise. Blood thundered in his ears at the erotic image. One day, he’d have to send Madame Crescent a thank-you gift for the clothing.

He traced a finger across the swell of her breast above the corset. She shivered, her heavy lids fluttering. “Was it everything you expected, then?” he asked.

Her gaze met his. “Yes. But I was wrong.” Reaching up, she relieved him of his coat.

“Wrong? How?”

“I thought one night would be enough to last me a lifetime.”

“Ah. Often a taste of temptation leads a person to desire more.”

She cocked her head to the side and regarded him. Her nimble fingers eased him out of his waistcoat. “You think one more time will suffice, then?”

God, he hoped not. He kept his thoughts to himself rather than scare her away.

He turned her by her shoulders to make quick work of her stays. She lifted the chemise over her head, and it met the dress and corset on the floor. Wearing only her silk stockings, she stood before him, just as she had their first night together. Once again, her body was smooth of hair and his gaze lowered to the apex of her thighs and the smooth skin shielding her femininity.

A dark snake of heat coiled in his loins. Tonight, he would take his time. Would lick and taste every secret spot. Give her as much pleasure as he could.

“Lower your hair.” His voice was gruff.

One by one, she removed the pins, then shook her head as a pile of lustrous, dark curls cascaded down her back.

He hissed in a breath. “You are the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.”

She shot him a saucy look. “Your turn.”

Chapter Thirty-One

Ana’s nerves were tense until Oliver’s gaze traveled over her body like she was as beautiful and adored as the goddess of beauty, Venus.

Once she’d made up her mind to be with him, she’d known it was the right decision. She would take her pleasure and not feel inhibited. She was a grown woman who made her own decisions and would have no regrets. Their second time was different. She was different. She’d come to know the man, and she’d grown to trust him, admire him…like him.

His hands went to his shirt, but she pushed him aside. “Let me.”

Amusement lit his eyes, and his hands fell to his sides. “As you wish.”

The shirt joined their other discarded clothing. She studied the hard muscles of his chest. “You once asked me if I thought of our night together at the Silver Chalice.”

“And did you?”

“Not only did I think of you, my lord, I thought of how you felt beneath my touch.” She pressed her palm on his heart, against his warm skin, then spread her fingers. Taking her time, she lowered her fingers, down his abdomen, coming to rest at the waistband of his trousers. His arousal was evident.

She reached for the placket of his trousers. His eyes were dark, his chest rising and falling. She unfastened the buttons and slipped her hand inside, her fingers tracing the thick, hard shape of him.