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“I’m not undressed!” she panted.

“No, you’re not, are you? Let me help you with that.”

“Don’t you rip my dress, Benedict Toomes! I only have this one and the navy one for weekdays!”

“I’ll buy you a new one.”

Lizzie made a muffled sound of annoyance as he yanked her dress open at the back, drawing it over her head and flinging it over the side of the bed. “One of every color,” he added. “I’d like to see you in brighter colors, Lizzie, to match your hair.”

Lizzie seemed so startled by this pronouncement that she made not one murmur as he ran through the hook and eyes of her corset and then her stays, chemise, petticoat, and bloomers followed her dress over the edge of the bed.

Only when she lay back on the bed entirely naked did she murmur his name, half reproachfully, her cheeks very pink.

He let his eyes devour her slim body with its bright gold hair, from her high, perky bosom to her slender ankles. “Take down your hair.”

Lizzie reached up and unpinned the neat arrangement. He watched with satisfaction as she leaned over to set a handful of pins on the top of a trunk.

“Finally,” he said. “I get to see you in all your glory by daylight.”

“In all my glory?” she repeated weakly, as he shed his vest. “Are you sure you’re seeing me clearly?”

“You’re the one in my bed, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” she admitted. “But … ”

“But what?” he asked, grabbing her ankle and pulling her down the bed. “This is how you should greet me at the end of a working day.”

Lizzie spluttered. “Naked?”

“Why not?”

“We haven’t lit the fire even, or – ”

“Later,” he growled. “There’s time enough for that.” He grabbed her knees and pulled them apart.

“Benedict!”

“Your hair isn’t your only beauty, Lizzie,” he said running his fingers through the hair between her legs. “But it is one of them.”

Her breathing hitched and she closed her eyes, “I – I’m not – ”

“Put your hands on your breasts, Lizzie. Squeeze those pretty nipples for me.”

She hesitated a moment, then did as he asked, her breathing shaky as he tweaked and sifted through the soft hair on her mound.

“When I married you, I endowed you with all my worldly goods, Lizzie. Everything of mine is yours. Do you understand? Everything.” She bit her lip and nodded, but kept her eyes closed. “Look at me.” When her eyes sprang open, he shifted down the bed until he was kneeling at the edge of the bed.

Lizzie gazed at him as he lowered his head slowly and deliberately and replaced his fingers between her legs with his tongue. “Benedict!” She half groaned, half whimpered his name as he took his time, tracing her cleft, his breath hot against her cool skin.

When her thighs kept trying to close about his ears and her hips were moving restlessly to encourage him, he knew he had pushed past her inhibitions. He ran his tongue lingeringly through her wet petals and groaned. Panting, he turned his face to rest against her soft inner thigh for a moment. Drawing an uneven breath, he said lasciviously, “Whatever will I do, Lizzie mine? The more I lick, the wetter you get.”

Lizzie gazed down at him, her indignant face flushed, her bosom heaving. He was fucked if he knew why, but the spark in her eye made him burn hotter than ever. “Tell me,” he said thickly. There he went again. Wanting to know what was on her mind. It really made no sense, yet here he was, wanting to hear her thoughts.

“You know exactly what you’re doing to me, you wretch!” she told him with spirit.

“Getting you worked up, you mean?” he answered with a laugh. “Yeah, I do. I’m starting to know exactly what treatment this naughty pussy likes.”

Lizzie drew in a shocked breath. “Benedict!”