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He snorted a little. Lord, she was everything. “I’ll last.” He’d make sure of it. His body tightened with lust though at the image. Or they’d do it twice. One or the other.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Amalia’s heart pounded as she crept past her father’s—really her grandfather’s—still quiet and empty study, ducking so her hair
didn’t tangle in the sconces sparkling against the gilded floral wallpaper.
How much time did they have left? She’d worked to be quick, but unfortunately, two of Thad’s friends insisted on dancing with her, after which cousin Rachel and Lydia Nathan, her ever-present-companion, cornered and interrogated her about a dozen things, not the least of which was whether she’d be willing to teach Sunday school.
Her poor niece wanted a few sweets that she was too small to reach and Amalia obliged before returning the girl to her father, all the while aware of her bareness under her dress.
To be fair, the lack of bustle coupled with the looser corset would make hitching her skirts much easier. Also, the sleeveless, flouncy ball gown was much lighter than her traveling clothes—all the better for climbing on a bed. Score one for David and his planning.
Hurry, hurry, hurry.
The word echoed the rhythm of her heart as she reached for the doorknob. She needed him. Needed every moment she could have of him. Because, somewhere, deep inside, a voice whispered that a deadline loomed.
Her chest near exploded as she edged the door to her dark bedroom open. He was in there, right?
The rasped oath from the bed was unmistakable, even if it hadn’t been in Yiddish.
The door clicked shut and she clicked the lock, before tiptoeing towards the bed.
“Are you going to let me light a lamp, or a candle at least?” She pursed her lips. “I want to see you.”
Instead of responding, he did the honors and she gasped at his beautiful, nude, and very ready body in the low flickering glow.
“Is this what you wanted?” He threw her his smirk, his eyes shimmering behind his spectacles.
She could only nod.
He rolled on his side and propped himself up on an elbow. “Come here. We’ll get you out of that gown.”
“But I was wearing one last time, or at least a night one and if we are reliving and improving...” she protested but still turned around and swooped her hair over her shoulder.
His fingers skimmed over her back and the fabric parted. He bent forward and pressed a kiss to the top of her spine. “True, but I always imagined it this way.”
With a small moan, Amalia let him help her shake free of the layers of silk and lace so they pooled on the floor around her ankles. She climbed on top of him, straddling his waist, his fingers already gently stroking.
“Better than the ancients could’ve imagined,” he murmured.
“I doubt that. I believe they participated in orgies,” she managed, though already speaking was becoming rather difficult. She twisted a little, already inching backwards. He needed to be inside her already. Now, because if not she’d combust.
“I don’t think I’d enjoy an orgy. I believe I might have a jealous streak.” He pressed his hands firm, holding her in place. “You may be on top but I’m still setting the pace.”
“Is that so?” Fizzles danced through her body.
“Yes. I’m going to lead. Like in the ballroom tonight, I prefer a waltz, a slow one.” He lifted one hand and trailed it down her body, from her neck all the way down just above the area that ached for him.
She glanced down at him. He really did have the most stunning shoulders. At the party, the thin material of Thad’s shirt left nothing to the imagination. How many women had stared at him like that? Something inside Amalia clenched. Jealous streak, ha, he had no idea.
Though at least only she was able to see him like this.
“Mercy, Amalia, there’s never been anyone but you, not since that first stroke under the table.” He removed his spectacles and laid them on a chair.
She placed her hands on his shoulders and bent down, taking his mouth in hers.
Hickory, and mint, and dark hunger grasped her senses as lust danced in her veins. She brushed her chest against his—smooth against rough. She reached up and ran her hands through his thick, wavy hair that he could never, ever cut.
