Page 39 of Miss Kimble Bites Back

Sebastian slid his hand down her side. “It doesn’t have to be tonight,” he promised.

“Sebastian. My Sebastian,” she whispered. “But it will be.”

Given he had permission, his fingers continued down her thigh until he found bare flesh. He teased his fingers slowly up to her sex. Gabby’s eyes were wide open, and her breath came in little pants as he touched her sex for the first time, gently, reverently, but it was clear she wasn’t going to stop him.

She was damp and willing, and Sebastian wanted her so much. He had to at least see her climax tonight. The rest could come during their courtship. He could not imagine waiting until their wedding night to share all that loving her could mean.

He teased his finger along her folds, gently parting her and exploring carefully. He found her clit as he claimed her mouth in a fierce kiss, swallowing her gasp. He teased his tongue into her depths, even as his finger found her entrance. He carefully teased her there for a while as she squirmed and pushed against his fingers. He could easily tell what he was doing wasn’t enough for her. She would climax soon, but not before he got a proper taste.

He indulged in one last heated kiss before he moved down the chaise to put his head between her pale thighs. And when he put his mouth to work beside his fingers, he feared everyone in the ballroom would hear her moans and come running.

He kissed her sex, dragged his tongue along her folds and stabbed into her for his first proper taste. But time was short, and she was a virgin, too, so Sebastian confined himself to that one indulgence.

He found her clitoris again and devoted himself to proving himself as a lover. Kissing her and rubbing the flat of his tongue across her most sensitive parts. It did not take long before Gabby’s knees rose to cradle his head, and she climaxed a moment later.

Her grip slowly loosened when she was done, and he quickly rose up over her. She stared up at him with soft, languid eyes, seemingly destroyed by her climax. He dropped a quick kiss to her lips and separated them fully. “We have to get you back to the ballroom.”

His erection, though, stuck out painfully hard in his breeches, and he didn’t try to hide it from her. She had to know this about him one day soon. When they were married, he imagined they’d spend many hours together, aroused or sated.

She sat up, eyes on his groin, which did not help his condition abate in any way. When she stood, eventually, he did his best to help straighten her gown. She was mussed, unfortunately. He tried to smooth her skirts, but she stilled his hands.

“Don’t worry about that now,” she said with a smile. “I asked Daisy to tell Bennett that I was having my hem mended. That will explain any added wrinkles.”

He looked at Gabby in surprise. “Daisy knew you were coming to me?”

“Yes,” Gabby said with a shrug. “She’s my friend. I would do the same for her, too.”

“I owe her now as well,” he promised. He went to the door and glanced outside. “Time for you to go,” he whispered to Gabby reluctantly.

“Sebastian? What happens next?”

He noticed her fidgets and closed the door again. “We dance, and tomorrow I call on your guardian to formally ask for your hand in marriage.”

“Another dance?” she teased; brow arched high.

“Can you bear it?”

“I long for it,” Gabby assured him. “I’ll go back to Daisy, and I’ll see you there soon.”

She slipped out the door, and Sebastian waited a few minutes before following. As he arrived in the ballroom, a hush fell over the gathering.

He slowed his steps, fearing Gabby had somehow given them away. She was standing beside her guardian now. Her face was pale as she clung to his arm.

Sebastian hurried to join them. “What is it?”

“There’s been a development,” Bennett whispered, eyes locked on the far side of the room.

Across from them were Lord Brookes, Lady Whitlow, and Justine Dawes. And they appeared to be arguing. In public. In a manner that could clearly be heard by everyone near them in the ballroom. A silence descended over everyone else at the gathering.

“You made a promise to me!” Lady Whitlow complained loudly.

Lord Brookes looked around, eyes a little desperate and wild. “Lower your voice.”

Lady Whitlow stabbed her finger into his chest. “You said if I did you that favor, you’d marry. Shall I tell everyone what it was you asked of me?”

Lord Brookes turned decidedly pale. “No. I will keep my word.”

“Tonight,” Lady Whitlow demanded, her eyes triumphant.