Page 75 of The Favourite

“Ah, there they are,” he breathed. “The exact shade.”

Jane went still. “You mean,” she said in a choked voice, “that my eyes look like topazes when I am annoyed with you.” She turned her head aside. “I might have known it was not a compliment,” she muttered bitterly.

He gave a short laugh. “I’ve never given jewels to a woman, apart from you. How is that uncomplimentary? Hmmm?” Grasping her two wrists in one hand above her head, he slid the other slowly down her arm and across her shoulder, lightly caressing her collarbone.

“You are becoming agitated, my sweet,” he practically purred. Reaching for the choker, he moved it so that one of the cool stones slid across the newly sprung rash. “There now, does that give you any relief?” Jane panted, glaring up at him. “No?” He ran his hand down to cover her bodice, lightly squeezing her breast. She gave a muffled sound, which should not be as exciting as he found it.

“I want to see you naked, Jane,” he admitted thickly, “clad just in the jewels. How do you feel about indulging me in this?” Her eyes stared up at him. “Fuck, those topazes are not of fine enough quality. Yours blaze with inner fire.” Only when her mouth fell open, did he realize he had spoken the thought aloud.

“I—you—”

“Let me remove this unbecoming gown, sweetheart. I’m begging you.” Jane’s eyes searched his face. His sincerity must have shown, he guessed, for she finally gave a nod and the world stopped turning.

“Yes,” she sobbed, turning her face away.

He caught her chin, forcing her gaze to his. “Yes?” he repeated. She nodded again. “Yes, Alisander,” he insisted, though he had no idea why he was pushing it.

“Yes, Alisander,” she repeated, and he let go of her wrists, rolling at once off of her. Jane looked for a moment just the tiniest bit disappointed, until he began efficiently stripping her clothes off her. “What about you?” she blurted when all her clothes lay in a heap on the floor. She clutched at the necklaces as if they afforded her some modesty.

They didn’t. Her gloriously naked body took his breath away. “It feels a little strange with just me naked,” she added, and seeing the direction of his gaze, lowered her hands to self-consciously cover the little patch of gold curls at the juncture of her thighs.

Nothing loath, he shed his robe and breeches with an almost indecent haste. He’d never been so keen in his life, he thought wryly, as he turned back to her. Jane’s panicked gaze darted from his burgeoning crotch to his face several times before settling with grim determination on his face. He guessed she probably wished he’d kept his braies on.

“You have nothing to fear from me, Jane,” he told her as he joined her once more on the bed. Settling carefully beside her, he smoothed the curiously unruly hair from her brow and over her neck and shoulders. “I think I like your hair like this,” he murmured, stroking one hand up her smooth back as his eyes wandered greedily over her.

Despite the fact his eager cock was pressed firmly into her soft thighs, his eyes dwelt on her upper body where the jewels lay flush against her heated skin. “Fuck,” he whispered. “You are beauteous, Lady Bardulf.”

She turned even redder at his words, and he loved it. Reaching out, he slowly adjusted the necklace so that it hung just below her breasts, framing them. Jane shivered. “Does it feel cold?” he murmured solicitously, fondling her breasts all the while.

“A little.”

“Look down at the lovely picture you make.”

She shook her head. “I’d rather see myself reflected in your eyes.” And for some reason the admission made his breath catch.

Reaching for the necklace again, he slid it across her breasts until this time it rested directly against her nipples. “How’s that?” he asked.

Jane cleared her throat. “A little cold,” she uttered.

“Not uncomfortable?”

“No.”

He ran his thumbs over her nipples. Again, she made an interesting noise in her throat. “I have a confession,” he said conversationally.

“A confession?” Jane faltered. “Now?”

He nodded. Jane clearly thought speech inappropriate at this time. Naturally, this made him feel all the more talkative. “When I pictured you wearing these topazes … It might have been something like this.”

“Alisander!” Her scandalized whisper made him shiver.

“I know,” he responded gravely.

“Before we were married?”

“Yes,” he agreed, “but I never thought I’d actually get my filthy hands on you, not then.” He lowered his face to hers and kissed her with slow deliberation, tracing her lips with his tongue and lightly biting her bottom lip. “I have an idea,” he said drawing back but keeping his hand on her hip.

Jane’s eyes were on his lips. She blinked a few times to focus on his words. “Idea?”