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“Stay!” she commanded, clutching his shoulders.
He kissed her. “I need you to want me, Cleo.”
“I do,” she promised.
His laugh was more like a growl. “Not yet, not enough.” He moved down on the bed, pushing her legs apart. “Lovely,” he breathed. “More rose petals to caress—”
He brought his tongue to bear, and Cleo gave a startled cry. She lost her mind, sensation lashing her body. When he brought his hand into play, her toes curled and every muscle in her body knotted, pleasure spilling from his warm tongue down her arms and legs. She screamed aloud, her hands clutching his hair, holding him in place.
“That’s wonderful,” she murmured a moment later.
Jake grunted and came up over her, braced on his forearms. “I did gather that you found it pleasant.”
“It was bottled joy,” Cleo said dreamily. “Through my whole body, like French brandy but so much better.”
His mouth eased into a smile, and she traced his bottom lip with a finger. “I want to kiss you all the time,” she said, hearing the huskiness in her own voice with faint surprise. Not to mention the truths slipping out of her mouth. “When you’re talking about contracts, or kippers, or when we’re waltzing.” A feeling of faint anxiety rolled over her. “Do you suppose that now I’ll be thinking about this all the time?”
He grinned down at her. “I damned well hope so, Cleo. I already do.” He ran a hand down the side of her body, and pleasure thrummed under her skin. She shivered, looping her arms around his neck.
“For tonight, would you like to stop here?” he asked, leaning down to nuzzle her neck.
She laughed. “You don’t understand, Jake.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“I am my mother’s daughter, and for the first time, I don’t mind admitting it. I want more. All of it.” She reached down and ran her fingers over his erection, exploring its velvety hardness, watching the way Jake’s eyes darkened and his muscles tensed.
“I can oblige.” His voice was low and hungry.
Cleo let her fingers curl around him. She wanted to explore him, the way he had her. “I plan to savor you,” she whispered. “The way you did me. All of you.” She dipped her fingers below to caress one of his balls. A groan broke from his throat.
Urgency was building in her blood again. She closed her fingers around his shaft, loving how it throbbed against her palm.
“May I?” Jake had never sounded so American, all his rough masculinity bound in a throaty question.
“We need a condom.”
“I don’t have one here, but I won’t spill inside you,” Jake said in her ear. His voice was strained.
Her mother had told her never to trust a man who made such promises. But Jake . . . She could trust Jake. Plus she had to admit that she wasn’t entirely sure where the box of condoms—
She turned her head and realized that the box was sitting squarely on her bedside table. She smiled ruefully. “It appears that Gussie felt I should be prepared in the event that you visited my bedchamber.”
A moment later, Jake had smoothed one onto his shaft.
Cleo smiled at him and then arched up, rubbing him against her core. “That feels so good!”
He leaned down to kiss her, and then she felt him breach her. Raw feeling coursed through her, not pleasure nor pain.
Jake took a deep breath. “All right?”
Cleo wiggled. “I feel as if I’m a worm on a hook.”
He let out a ragged laugh and bent to rub their noses together. “Who’s the unromantic one now?” He pulled back and then eased forward again. Her hands curled tightly around his forearms.
It was new, and slightly frightening, but his arms felt like a cradle, surrounding her with strength and protection. He withdrew again, making her gasp, then pushed back, slightly farther.
“How is it?” he asked, his voice deep.
