Page 83 of The Seduction of an English Scoundrel

“Natural progression, my foot,” she whispered into the dark. “I could almost be convinced you planned it from the start.”

“How devious that would make me,” he said with a deep laugh. “We have always been honest with each other, haven’t we?”

No answer for that. She opened her eyes, her heart still pounding, as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt and trousers. His nude silhouette warmed her blood, as if she had fallen asleep too long in the sun. Her gaze traveled the length of his muscular torso to the swollen member between his legs. She looked up slowly into his face, not certain what she had gotten into, knowing only that she wanted him, that she wished this could be forever, her fate.

His silver-blue eyes gleamed in the shadows. She craved what she saw in their smoky depths, the fulfillment of her secret desires. He held her heart in his wicked hands. Whatever happened between them tonight would involve her whole being. Jane would never be a woman who could separate her sexuality from her deepest self.

“Grayson,” she whispered. “One day someone will tame that arrogance.”

“Perhaps it will be you,” he said, taunting her.

“Perhaps.”

“I think I might enjoy that, Jane.”

“I long for the day.”

“Practice is required.”

She stared at him, wondering how he could captivate and infuriate her at the same time. “Is it?”

“Months and months of it,” he answered in amusement. “Unless of course you show a natural talent, as I suspect you might.”

Heat suffused her neck and shoulders.

“Shall I show you how it’s done?” he asked in a deep whisper.

She suppressed a shiver, her body more than ready for what he promised. “Please do.”

He lowered himself to her. Instinctively she pressed her breasts against the hard plane of his chest. He shuddered at the contact and ran his hands down her back to knead the rise of her bottom. His fingers followed the arch of her spine, teased the heart-shaped indentation below. His large hands moved over her, taking possession.

“Give me everything,” he whispered. “I want it all.”

Turning onto his side, he took her in his arms. The feel of his muscular body against hers flooded her with longing. She lifted into him, craving closer contact. With a shiver of anticipation, she felt his erect penis pulsing against her belly. Before she could stop the instinct, she brought her hands down to touch him. Her fingertips closed around hard silken muscle. He groaned and pushed himself against her, muttering, “Touch me like that, and I will be tamed.”

“I wish that were true,” she whispered. “I think you’ll always be wild at heart. I shall have a devil of a time taming you.”

She was wrong, he thought. She did not know what he felt, how she had changed his life, how empty and shallow his world had been before her. How only in her hands, at her touch, could he be gentled. He was entranced with her, as hard as iron, hurting so badly he had almost forgotten the part he was supposed to play. No. No playacting right now. Loving her was too real.

“I am wild for you, Jane,” he muttered.

She was beyond answering, surrendering to instinct. He swept his right hand up over her hipbone to her breasts. His thumbs massaged the rosy tips until dizzying pleasure stole over her and she pushed herself against him. Slowly he stroked the silky inner skin of her thighs with his other hand until she was spread open to him, her cleft glistening with pearlets of moisture.

“Grayson,” she said, her voice catching. “I’m not ready—”

“Oh, you are,” he said as he tangled his fingers in the damp curls of her sex and caressed her creamy flesh with a magic that set off wild shivers inside her. Jane closed her eyes, drugged with pleasure, too in love with him to question her instincts, to stop. His finger pushed inside her, and she felt the heated sensation all the way to the base of her spine.

Seduction. The merest brush of his fingertips scorched her skin like a brand. She was falling apart while he remained strong, sure of himself, a man who reveled in the art of sensuality. She buried her face in his shoulder; the carnal promise in his smile had brought a blush to her very soul.

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” he murmured. He slipped another finger inside her snug passage, his jaw muscles tightening. She moaned and moved against his hand, answering him without words.

“I knew you were a devil,” she said softly.

“You have no idea how demonical I can be.” A rich laugh rumbled in his chest. “But you’ll find out. We’ll do some very, very wicked things to each other tonight.”

She peered up at his chiseled profile. “Do you really think I’m bad?”

“Of course, Jane. Every woman is, if given the chance.”